La Favorite was ready for its capricious namesake, and the town of Ludwigsburg counted some two hundred new houses. The old posting inn, formerly a dilapidated peasant's habitation, barnlike and unpromising enough to the traveller, had become a fine mansion with many guest chambers. The peasant innkeeper, who regarded every foreigner as an intruder, was replaced by a magnificent gentleman with condescending manners. Enterprising venders of all sorts hurried to the new centre of opulence. Already an obsequious personage from Paris had taken up his abode in a room of one of the new houses, and a painted board hanging from his window informed the passers-by that he was permitted to style himself Coiffeur to her Excellency the Landhofmeisterin, to Serenissimus the Duke, and to the court in general. Along with this gentleman arrived several spruce ladies, one of whom was reported to be his wife, but opinions varied as to which of the eight possessed this honour. These demoiselles were expert dressmakers, and plied many other trades necessary for the beautifying of court ladies. A French corset-maker appeared on the scene, and a famous vender of cosmetics. In fact, there were not wanting all the elements which must ever be at hand for serving the whimsies and necessities of noble dames. The titles of these court purveyors were in the Landhofmeisterin's keeping, and were only procurable by payment of a good round sum. * * * * * The sun was sinking in a glory over the grim mount of Hohenasperg, that sinister, frowning fortress-prison which threatened conveniently near to Ludwigsburg, ready to lodge those unfortunate enough to incur the displeasure of Serenissimus, or, more accurately, of her Excellency the Landhofmeisterin. The departing sun left a flaming radiancy which hung over the 'mansarde' roofs of Ludwigsburg, and was reflected again and again in the waters of the hundred garden fountains. All day a hurrying stream of vehicles had rumbled into the courtyard, setting down the servants and effects of his Highness of Wirtemberg, and of the lady who ruled his destiny. Frisoni was in a mighty pother; he ran round the room excitedly, moving a chair, smoothing out a fold in the curtains, drawing a table to another position. He hopped hither and thither like some gay little monkey. Suddenly a tremendous shout went up from the three thousand Italian workmen who had been permitted to assemble near the gilded gates to witness the arrival of the court.