where Seraphina’s portrait hung conspicuous, dressed for the chase, red roses in her hair, as Otto, in the first months of marriage, had directed. He pointed to it without a word; she raised her eyebrows in silence; and they passed still forward into a matted corridor where four doors opened. One led to Otto’s bedroom; one was the private door to Seraphina’s. And here, for the first time, Otto left her hand, and stepping forward, shot the bolt.
‘It is long, madam,’ said he, ‘since it was bolted on the other side.’
‘One was effectual,’ returned the Princess. ‘Is this all?’
‘Shall I reconduct you?’ he asking, bowing.
‘I should prefer,’ she asked, in ringing tones, ‘the conduct of the Freiherr von Gondremark.’
Otto summoned the chamberlain. ‘If the Freiherr von Gondremark is in the palace,’ he said, ‘bid him attend the Princess here.’ And when the official had departed, ‘Can I do more to serve you, madam?’ the Prince asked.
‘Thank you, no. I have been much amused,’ she answered.
‘I have now,’ continued Otto, ‘given you your liberty complete. This has been for you a miserable marriage.’
‘Miserable!’ said she.
‘It has been made light to you; it shall be
