"Is he dead?" she asked, all the bitterness in her heart surging to her

lips.

"To Barscheit,"--briefly. "Now, what shall I do with this?"--tapping

the bogus certificate.

"Give it to me," said the girl wearily. She ripped it into halves,

into quarters, into infinitesimal squares, and tossed them into the

waste-basket. "I am the unhappiest girl in the world."

"I am sorry," replied the grand duke. "It isn't as if I had forced

Doppelkinn on you without first letting you have your choice. You have

rejected the princes of a dozen wealthy countries. We are not as the

common people; we can not marry where we will. I shall announce that

the marriage will take place next week."

"Do not send my friend away," she pleaded, apparently tamed.

"I will promise to give the matter thought. Good night."

She turned away without a word and left him. When he roared at her she

knew by experience that he was harmless; but this quiet determination

meant the exclusion of any further argument. There was no escape

unless she ran away. She wept on her pillow that night, not so much at

the thought of wedding Doppelkinn as at the fact that Prince Charming

had evidently missed the last train and was never coming to wake her

up, or, if he did come, it would be when it was too late. How many

times had she conjured him up, as she rode in the fresh fairness of the

mornings! How manly he was and how his voice thrilled her! Her horse

was suddenly to run away, he was to rescue her, and then demand her

hand in marriage as a fitting reward. Sometimes he had black hair and

eyes, but more often he was big and tall, with yellow hair and the

bluest eyes in all the world.




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