While Irma was playing, the king again passed through the _portière_ and stopped to listen. Irma did not look up; her eyes were fixed upon her zither. When she had finished, the king applauded faintly. She arose and bowed, but did not accompany the king when he went into the adjoining chamber to look at the prince. "Your zither is in perfect tune, dear countess, but you seem to be somewhat out of tune," said the king, as he came back into the room. "I am in tune. Your Majesty," replied Countess Irma. "I've just been playing an air to Walpurga, and it has deeply affected me." The king left very soon afterward, and without offering his hand to the countess. Walpurga's saddest thought was that she dared not even trust Mademoiselle Kramer. "Oh, you poor child!" said she to the prince, one day, when no one was by. "Oh, you poor, dear child! you're expected to grow up among people who don't trust each other. If I could only take you with me, what a fine boy you'd become. You're still innocent--children, until they begin to speak, are the only innocent creatures in this world. But what matters it? I didn't make the world, and needn't change it. The countess is right. I'll nurse you well, care for you tenderly, and leave the rest to God." CHAPTER XV. "Your wish is fulfilled at last," said Countess Irma to Doctor Gunther, just as they were rising from the dinner-table. "What wish?" "I how have a female friend, a companion, and, in the words of the song, 'you'll ne'er find a better.'" "Your treatment of the peasant woman is quite amiable and does you great credit, but she is not a friend. Your friend should be one who is your equal. Your relation toward this peasant woman will always be that of a patron. She never dare find fault with you, and if she were to make the attempt, you could readily silence her. Mere common-sense is defenseless against the armory of culture." Without noticing how Irma started at these words, the doctor calmly continued: "There's just as much difference, mentally, between yourself and such a type of popular simplicity as there is between a grown person and a child. I fear you've neglected to secure yourself a friend who is your equal in birth." "My equal in birth? So you, too, are an aristocrat?" The doctor explained that equality of rights could be conceded without doing away with social distinctions. "Whenever I leave you," said Irma, her face radiant with enthusiasm--"whenever I've been under the influence of your thoughts, all that I do or attempt seems petty and trifling. At such moments, I feel just as I do after listening to glorious music, and long to accomplish something out of the usual way. I wish I were gifted with artistic talent." "Content yourself with being one of nature's loveliest works. That's the best thing to do." The doctor was called away.