"Ah, Cousin Michael! I call him the Duke of Strelsau."
"You call him Michael when you meet him?"
"Yes—by the orders of your father."
"I see. And now by mine?"
"If those are your orders."
"Oh, decidedly! We must all be pleasant to our dear Michael."
"You order me to receive his friends, too, I suppose?"
"The Six?"
"You call them that, too?"
"To be in the fashion I do. But I order you to receive no one unless you like."
"Except yourself?"
"I pray for myself. I could not order."
As I spoke there came a cheer from the street. The princess ran to the window.
"It is he!" she cried. "It is—the Duke of Strelsau!"
I smiled, but said nothing. She returned to her seat. For a few minutes we sat in silence. The noise outside subsided, but I heard the tread of feet
