We have seen Ferdinand waiting for a Crown to turn up. We have seen him striving vainly for a friendly lead to recognition as a Sovereign Prince by the Powers of Europe. Now this Micawber among Monarchs is revealed as waiting anxiously and servilely for a suitable bride to appear. And in the search for a wife he endured the most poignant humiliations that have overtaken even him in a long life spent in eating dirt. Ambitious Clementine wished him to espouse a princess who would not only furnish an heir to the throne, but would bring influence to his palace, and help materially in the long quest for recognition. But the princesses of Europe, and the advisers who guided their choice of a consort, looked with disdain upon the princely parvenu. Queen Victoria, who was amused at his flattering speech and grand airs, drew the line at an alliance with a prince whose tenure of the throne was so doubtful as that of Ferdinand’s. That he may have expected; but the conduct of the smaller kingdoms filled him with surprise and resentment. He might not aspire anywhere, and the fact was conveyed to him in a fashion so unmistakable that he was at the utmost pains to conceal his deep chagrin. Finally a match was made for him by his mother. The victim was a dear little meek soul, a devout Catholic, and one of the gentlest spirits of her time—Princess Marie Louise of Parma, a niece of the Comte de Chambord. She was remarkably beautiful in a tiny way, with reddish-brown hair, large blue eyes, and a simple dignity that won all hearts. The wedding took place at Lianore, in Lucca, and old Stambuloff paid the Princess the rare compliment of leaving his close watch on the affairs of Bulgaria long enough to attend the wedding. He was charmed with the sweet, pleasant girl of twenty-three, and in a message to her father declared “Bulgaria will honour and watch over her.” As far as he could, he kept the promise he made on that occasion. [Illustration: Princess Marie Louise of Bulgaria] Stambuloff was just as anxious to see Ferdinand wedded as was Clementine. “We want a dynasty,” he urged on Ferdinand, “and our enemies want you to remain a bachelor. As long as you are unmarried you are in danger of assassination, and we are in danger of anarchy. When you are once married and possessed of a son and heir, they will not try to kill you. But even if you are assassinated, it won’t matter to us then.” It was frankness of this kind which endeared his Premier to Ferdinand. The Sultan Abdul had the grace to telegraph congratulations to Ferdinand on the occasion of his marriage. “You have strengthened the Bulgarian Principality,” he declared, with other courteous phrases, all of which Ferdinand read as a reminder of his state of vassalage.