"I am here as the King's representative. I represent the chief of the Royal House of Saxony." "A fig for your Royal House of Saxony," said Melita, snapping her fingers in George's face. "Queen Victoria is my chief of family, and, that aside, Ludwig and I are sovereigns in Hesse and have no intention whatever to allow anyone----" "Anyone?" repeated George aghast. "You refer to me as anyone?" "In things matrimonial," said Melita, "only husband and wife count; all others are 'anyone.' You, too." "She calls me 'you,'" cried George, white with rage, looking helplessly at Ernest Ludwig. When the latter kept his tongue and temper, George addressed himself to Melita once more. "I want you to understand that my title is Royal Highness." "And I want you to understand that I am Her Royal Highness the Grand-duchess of Hesse, Royal Princess of Great Britain and Ireland, Duchess of Saxony," cried Melita, stamping her foot. With that she went to the door, opened it and said, "I request Your Royal Highness to leave my house this very second." And George went. * * * * * DRESDEN, _June 1, 1896_. Poor virtuous me, to chide myself, and call myself names for flirting with Count Bielsk--at a distance of twenty feet or more! "I could kick my back," as the Duc de Richelieu--not the Cardinal, but the lover of the Regent's daughters and "every wife's husband"--used to say (only a bit more grossly) when I think what I miss in this dead-alive Dresden. Darmstadt isn't half as big a town, and the Hesse establishment doesn't compare with ours in magnitude, but what fun Melita is having! Of course, it isn't _all_ fun, for her husband is a "sexless" thing, and, like the Grand-duchess Serge of Russia, she would be a virgin, though married for years, if it wasn't for the other. "The other" is none other but Kyril, the lover of our Dolores,--Kyril isn't exactly pining away when separated from Melita. Well, Melita wants him all to herself. She wants a divorce. The complacent husband, who is no husband at all, doesn't suit her. Exit Ernest Ludwig--officially. Enter Kyril--legitimately. She made me reams of confidences, indulged in whole _brochures_ of dissertations on the question of sex. What an ignoramus I am! I didn't understand half she said and was ashamed to ask. Ernest Ludwig is the most accommodating of husbands. Knows all about Kyril and would gladly shut both eyes if they let him. Melita might, if pressed very hard, for adultery has no terrors for her, but Kyril affects the idealist. Sure sign that he really loves her. If he was mine, I would be afraid of this Kyril. No doubt he is jealous as a Turk. Last week the three of them had a conference. Lovely to see husband, wife and paramour "in peaceful meeting assembled" and talk over the situation as if it concerned the Royal stud or something of the sort.