Tazewell Republican. [volume] (Tazewell, Va.) 1892-1919, 1909-05-06

self. So when shortly afterward her
French maid Elise entered, she held
up her hand to dismiss her.
Il shall not want you tonight,
Elise" she said. The day has been
hot and you are tired. 1 think 1 shall
shall read late"
The girl courtesied and went to the
door.
"And-Elise-" The words were al
most whisper. The princess bro Ike
into a forced laugh and passed her
hand quickly over her forehead. 1T is
very silly of me-" she said, but I
have heard q rather curious story to-
day. 1t concerns some one in nv
household, so l am Interested, per
haps little worried about 1t. A girl
here, one Of the servants of the state
has fallen in love. A very ordinary
thing, eh, Elise? Now those who have
power over her are endeavoring to
force her into a marriage with a man
she does not care for. Her troubles are
known to me, and 1 should like to help
her for the best. 1t is the old ques-
ton Of love and duty, which have been
at loggerheads ever since the world
began"
Madam will doubtless assert her
authority" suggested Elise. Surely
an unhappy marriage is best averted ?"
But if much depended upon the
match; If it were necessary for the girl
to be unhappy for life in the interests
Of others?"
Elise was puzzled.
Il think" she said at length, IF 1
were this unfortunate girl, should go
away and please myself"
The girl withdrew and the princess
sat down to think the matter out. Ct
should go away and please myself"
How easy for Elise, how difficult for
heri Then, of sudden a resolve grew
firmly up in her mind. Abdicationi 1t
was an ugly word, but there was no
other road.
She went to her writing table and
sat down. The scented mauve paper
lay at hand. the array Of gold pens
seemed to invite her to write. Invol-
UNFAIRLY she picked up one, and let it
wander over the paper:
1T is the privilege OF a woman to
change her mind, and have changed
mine. What 1 said to you the other
evening 1 did not mean. l was afraid.
l am not strong enough to bear the
responsibilities of state affairs, and so.
like the coward am. must give way.
and place my future unreservedIy in
your hands"
She dropped the pen, and from the
folds of her bodice produced a gold
locket in which was set the portrait of
man. She knew what the receipt
Z her note would mean to him; almost
She could see the firm lips of the por
raft break into smiles.
Her mood changed. He would be
talked about all over Europe. the count
who had eloped with a princess. How
hey would jibe at him in the cafes.
lll-paid Journalists would play with his
name in type as an adventurer who
had turned the head of a silly girl.
She pushed the letter under the ink
stand with a feeling of disgust at her
own weakness.
The moonlight came flooding into
the little chamber, and 1t fell across
the gold miniature till it cleaned like
Princess Guilda was astir early the
next morning. and as she dressed she
hummed to herself a little love song
the count had taught her, a song he
had composed himself. With the COM
ing of the morning the doubts of
the night before had vanished like a
river mist before the sun. She forgot
the note she had written, conscious
only that her place was with her peo-
ple-the people who worshiped her.
Toward evening she sent for the
prime minister to tell him of her deci-
sion, but her messenger returned to
say that he was absent from his house
| and could not be found. She stamped
her foot in impotent rage If he had
taken her at her word, even now the
enemy might be massing.
She shut herself up In her room and
| sat beside the window overlooking the
rhododendron drive. Gradually it be-
came dark, and on the wind came the
mutiied clamor OF the city below. Then
| as she listened she detected above the
rumble of carriage wheels on cobbles
the notes OF music. 1t was the old VIC
hnist to whom she had accorded the
privilege of playing In the palace
grounds. She welcomed the notes of
his violin; he avoided the classics and
played fragments of the old world love
songs that she loved.
Suddenly, as the music became loud
er, she sat upright and listened. The
musician was playing the counts love
song-the song that he had taught her.
She caught her breath. Then, half
doubtfully, she rose to her feet and
peered out, fearful lest the player
should see her. The violinist, his head
bent low, shambled along slowly step
by step in the shadow of the trees.
One might have said that it was the
figure of an old man as he paused and