She turned, her curious tourist eye roving over the ugly wall of the palace, concealing unimaginable splendors! She even sighed, and let her mouth fall with discontent. Ranata shook the edge of the curtain. Vilma came forward laggingly, her eyes on her book. The guard was inspecting the peculiar antics of another tourist, who had a bulge beneath his coat. When Vilma was directly beneath the window Ranata threw it open and leaned out. “He has not gone,” said Vilma distinctly, “and he wants your answer before he proceeds further.” And Ranata answered as distinctly: “Yes. Yes. Yes.” It was all over in an instant. Vilma had shot through the archway and mingled with the throng in the Michaelerplatz and Ranata had closed her window before the astounded guards realized they had been outwitted. Ranata sat down to await the consequences of her act. Her heart sang, and she did not care in the least what they might be. Indeed, closer imprisonment, probably a change of quarters, was the worst she had to fear; her father was not benighted enough to put her in solitary confinement, nor even on bread and water. She wondered at her doubts, at her facile acceptance of a news item that no doubt had been inserted by order of the Emperor. She knew now that Fessenden had made his plans and that he would not fail. She looked back in amazement at the power and instinct of woman to torment herself, and she also felt a throb of satisfaction that she should not grow old and ugly in the course of a month, as she had fully expected to do. Finally she shed tears of wondering gratitude, and for a few moments felt as humble as a man could wish. * * * * * It was not until two days later that Maria Leopoldina announced herself to the Archduchess at an early hour, and with an air of deep depression imparted the information that they were to leave Vienna on the following morning. “I infer that we are bound for the country,” said Ranata smiling. “It is unfortunate that you should hate it as much as I love it. Cannot some other trustworthy duenna be found?” The Obersthofmeisterin shook her head with gloomy pride. “How many people has his Majesty had reason to trust? I may not be as brilliant at Sarolta, but I shall live and die in the confidence of my sovereign. And as I have borne so many crosses in this life, I may perhaps hope for compensation in the next.” “Where there will be no kings?” “I see no fault in our august relative,” said Maria Leopoldina hurriedly. “I should not tell him if you did. Where are we going?” “That, I deeply regret to say, I am not permitted to tell you until we are in the train. But we are going not only because you have had the misfortune to incur the royal displeasure, but because, as you are not to be married immediately, his Majesty fears for your health if you are confined too long in-doors.”