'Can you dream of such a festivity at Versailles?' she asked, laughing. He told her that his mother clung to the habit. It was an ancient German custom thus to celebrate the Birth of Christ. 'I love the notion, too, that in all my villages the peasants can have the same as I have, for once, poor souls!' he added simply. 'Eberhard, you are ridiculous!--yes, a ridiculous poet-fellow. But I will come to your peasant celebration, if it pleases you.' She was touched by this gentle saying of his. And thus it fell out that on Christmas eve Wilhelmine ordered her coach to convey her to the castle. She drove through the snow in no happy frame of mind. Christmas trees and the favourite!--could anything be more incongruous? and she knew it. Angrily she sneered at the simple homeliness of the old German custom. Peasants could do these absurdities, but the Duchess of Wirtemberg? * * * * * In the long room where the madrigals had been sung on that well-remembered evening when Wilhelmine was installed lady-in-waiting to her Highness, a tall fir-tree was planted in a gilded barrel. A thousand twinkling lights burned on the branches, and little trinkets dangled temptingly. Overhead, on the topmost branch, the waxen Christmas angel with tinsel wings hovered over this family gathering. Symbol of peace and goodwill, this angel would look down pitifully on the men and women round the Christmas tree, whose hearts were full of bitterness, of envy and hatred! Lackeys were fastening candles on to the branches, and Johanna Elizabetha and Madame de Stafforth were hanging up trinkets and playthings for the Erbprinz. The Duchess-mother entered. She glanced round the room. 'Has the enemy not arrived?' she said humorously. Johanna Elizabetha sighed. 'No, she has not come yet. It is hard she should spoil our Christmas Eve; but it is better than meeting her for the first time as Landhofmeisterin with all her friends to stare at me.' 'She will not enjoy her evening, my dear,' returned the Duchess-mother, with a grim smile. At this moment Eberhard Ludwig entered, leading the Erbprinz by the hand. He sometimes endeavoured to be a kind father, but it was no easy matter for him. The Duchess-mother's face softened as she greeted her son, and bent to kiss the little boy, who scarcely responded to the old lady's embrace. His shining, excited eyes were fixed upon the Christmas tree, and snatching his hand from the Duke's grasp, he began to dance round in frantic childish rapture. Johanna Elizabetha forgot her troubles watching her son's joy, and she commenced cutting off the playthings for him. 'It were fitting to await our guest's arrival, Madame, before you strip the tree,' said the Duke coldly. 'Nonsense!' interrupted the Duchess-mother, 'surely Elizabetha can give her child the playthings if she wishes to?' 'Her Excellency the Landhofmeisterin!' announced a page, throwing open the door, and Wilhelmine appeared on the threshold.