Now the coach entered the first gate of the palace, and once more the outrider was obliged to proclaim and assure the identity of the carriage's occupant. This time the sentry flatly refused to believe him, and it was necessary to call the Captain of the Guard. Here the Duchess's spirit asserted itself. She summoned the Captain to the door of the coach and haughtily bid him admit her immediately. But the Captain, a youth appointed by the Graevenitz, feared her Excellency's displeasure more than God or man, and though he was gentleman enough to treat the Duchess courteously, he begged her to wait while he repaired to the Landhofmeisterin for instructions. No one was admitted to the palace without permission from her Excellency, he said. The Duchess inquired if Madame de Ruth was in the castle. At least, she hoped that for the sake of old memories the grande Maitresse du Palais, 'Dame de Deshonneur,' as she had once named her, would have sufficient humanity to help her now. Madame de Ruth was in the castle, the Captain replied, but she was very old and infirm, and he feared to disturb her afternoon rest. Very old and infirm? The Duchess sighed. Ah! many years had passed since she had seen the garrulous lady. Alas! she was no longer young herself. God in heaven! why did that sinful, triumphant wanton alone retain her beauty? She had been told that the Landhofmeisterin, like some evil giant tree, seemed to grow more beautiful, more resplendent each year. It was not true; for Time had set his cruel fingermarks upon Wilhelmine, but her wonderful health and her complaisant knowledge of success gave her a seeming youth. True, the pert little French dressmaker could have told the Duchess of violent scenes over gowns made to the measurements of former years, which could not fit her Excellency; but the courtesan pays a homage to Venus, offering up the tribute of powder, paint, and gorgeous clothes, and Venus responds by a gift of seeming youth; while the virtuous woman is punished for her virtue and her neglect of the Goddess of Appearance, by a shorter span of beauty and youth. Yet there is an unerring justice in the world. When Time has worked his inexorable will, and powder, paint, and crafty clothing can no longer hide his ravages, then the virtuous woman triumphs, probably for the first time in her life. They are both old, she and the courtesan, but she is sometimes beautiful--old, grey, and sere, but venerable, charming--and little children love her, and younger women bring their troubles--ay, and their joys, reverently to her, feeling a benediction in the touch of the pure, withered hand. While the courtesan--alas! a ridiculous garish absurdity, a grim ghost of past merriment, a horrid relic of forgotten debauches, a painted harridan at whom the boys jeer when she passes down the street. Here is one of God's great judgments and one of Nature's object-lessons.