"Gipsy Baron" was the bill of the play. I knew only a few of its waltzes and I drank in the comedy and the pretty music like one desperately athirst. Kyril's girl, the Dolores, was very chic and looked ravishingly pretty, and brother-in-law Max isn't the dunce I took him for. His Theresa is a droll dog, fair to look upon, dark and fat. It will take a lot of holy water to save her from purgatory. Girardi made me screech with laughter. He is as funny as my father-in-law is mournful--a higher compliment to his art I cannot pay. Of course, actor-like, he appreciated an Imperial Highness' applause and looked up to my box every little while. I wish, though, he hadn't acknowledged my plaudits by bowing to me. It attracted general attention and soon the whole house was staring and smiling. The people seemed to be glad that their Crown Princess was enjoying herself. CHAPTER XX TITLED SERVANTS LOW AND CUNNING George tries to rob me of my confidante--Enter the King's spy, Baroness Tisch in her true character--Punishment of one royal spy. DRESDEN, _August 1, 1894_. Prince George is planning a devilish revenge. He threatens to separate me from my Secretary and confidante, little Baranello, whom I brought with me from Salzburg. She is an Italian, and, unlike most of them, as faithful as a dog. A connection of the Ruffo family, princes and dukes that gave the world more than one pope, the small fry Saxon nobility hate her, and George knows that he can't corrupt Lucretia by his paltry presents and ridiculous condescension. They would send her back to Salzburg, if they dared,--anyhow, Baroness von Tisch is to be both Chief Mistress and confidential secretary. If she died of the first confidence I make her, she wouldn't live five minutes. The King's House Marshal, Baron von Carlowitz, came to announce the change to me, but I knew, of course, that it was George's doings. "Tell Prince George," I said icily, "that I appreciate the fact of being deprived of the services of an honest woman in favor of a spy." I will "show" this Tisch woman, as my American friends say. Some three years ago Emperor Francis Joseph appointed a spy as attendant to my brother Leopold. Schoenstein, Baron or Count, was his name, I think. Schoenstein would rather bear evil tales of his young master to his old master than eat, and nothing would please him better than to meddle with Leopold's correspondence.