"Then I will discharge my duty. The reason I have used so much circumlocution you will perceive without any further explanation. You are aware of the misfortune that has befallen Prince Edward. I telegraphed at once to N----, as my office required, and have just received from the prince the dispatch I now have the honor to deliver to you." Ottilie took the paper, went to the window, and read: "Impossible to defer the marriage. All the preparations are completed. The whole country in readiness to give a brilliant reception. Unadvisable to disappoint the expectations of the nation. If agreeable to the princess, I appoint Count Ottmar proxy on Prince Edward's place. Count Ottmar will inform the court at once, etc." Ottilie could read no more: the remainder concerned only matters of etiquette; the words lost their meaning, the letters swam before her eyes. She stood motionless as if struck by a thunderbolt. Every tinge of color faded from her cheeks, she seemed frozen into a marble statue. She must exchange rings with Ottmar, be wedded to the man for whom she longed, only to belong to another; she must vow to be faithful to her husband, and she loved his proxy. The forms which would have sealed her life-long happiness, had they been true, now only served to sanction the lie at the thought of which her heart bled. And yet ought she, as the betrothed bride of another, to make the humiliating confession to _Heinrich_ that she felt too weak to bear his presence at the altar?--ought she to give way to such weakness herself? _Heinrich_ read these thoughts reflected upon her brow. "I knew this news must affect you unpleasantly, princess, and therefore preferred to give you the information privately, that you might be able to tell me frankly whether it would be agreeable to you to stand before the altar with me or not. I hope you will understand my 'consideration' now; for if the inquiry had been made officially, you would not have been able to offer before the eyes of the world the insult of refusing to accept me as a substitute. But here, alone, you can tell me if it will be painful to you to have me beside you; and I will not take the acknowledgment as a humiliation, but receive it as a sacred confidence, and find means to delay the progress of affairs without mentioning your name."