"From this hour I believe in the legend of the Fairy of the Roses," said the elder of the two gentlemen, who was indeed no other than Baron Pollnitz. "Yes, princess, I believe fully, and I would not be at all astonished if your highness should at this moment flutter from the window in a chariot drawn by doves, and cast another shower of blossoms in the face of my friend." The princess had found time to recover herself, and to remember the haughty part she was determined to play. "I hope, baron," she said, sternly, "you will not allow yourself to suppose it was my purpose to throw those roses either to your companion or yourself? I wished only to get rid of them." She shut the window rudely and noisily, and commanded her attendants to complete her toilet at once. She seated herself sternly before the glass, and ordered her French maid to cover her head with jewels and ribbons. The two gentlemen still stood in the garden, in earnest conversation. "This is assuredly an auspicious omen, my friend," said Pollnitz to the young officer, who was gazing musingly at the roses he held in his hand. He had raised his eyes from the flowers to the window at which the lovely form of the princess had, for a few moments, appeared. "Alas!" said he, sighing, and gazing afar off; "she is so wonderfully beautiful--so lovely; and she is a princess!" Pollnitz laughed heartily. "One might think that you regretted that fact! Listen to me, my young friend; stand no longer here, in a dream. Come, in place of entering the castle immediately, to pay our respects to the queen-mother, we will take a walk through the garden, that you may allay your raptures and recover your reason." He took the arm of the young man, and drew him into a shady, private pathway. "Now, my dear friend, listen to me, and lay to heart all that I say to you. Accident, or, if you prefer it, Fate brought us together. After all, it seems indeed more than an accident. I had just returned to Berlin, and was about to pay my respects to the queen- mother, when I met you, who at the same time seek an audience, in order to commend yourself to her royal protection. You bear a letter of commendation from my old friend, Count Lottum. All this, of course, excites my curiosity. I ask your name, and learn, to my astonishment, that you are young Von Trenck, the son of the woman who was my first love, and who made me most unhappy by not returning my passion. I assure you, it produces a singular sensation to meet so unexpectedly the son of a first love, whose father, alas! you have not the happiness to be. I feel already that I am prepared to love you as foolishly as I once loved your fair mother." "I will not, like my mother, reject your vows," said the young officer, smiling, and extending his hand to Pollnitz. "I hoped as much," said Pollnitz; "you shall find a fond father in me, and even to-day I will commence my parental duties. In the first place, what brings you here?"