I am sure he expected me; he must have known I was near when I entered the house. To his ears the hundred and one melodies of Gounod's masterpiece were naught compared with the music of my silken skirts. He was so overcome, he forgot his diplomacy. Twice he pressed his right hand to his heart, then bowed his head in a mute salute. Fortunately the house was dark at the time and the audience, unacquainted with my visit, paid strict attention to the stage. No one but him saw my heart leap within me and the blood mount to my cheeks. Presently his diplomatic tact got the upper hand again, and he fixed his eyes on the score. That afforded me the chance to take a pictorial inventory of my lover-at-a-distance. I used my opera-glasses unmercifully. He's a fine looking man--if he were a woman he would be hailed a beauty. His forehead is a dream of loveliness; his mouth a promise of a thousand sweet kisses. If this man wants me, I mean if he wants me badly, our love won't be any painted business, I assure you. * * * * * DRESDEN, _April 25, 1897_. Ball at the Roumanian Embassy. Royal command to attend. As if it needed a command to throw me into the arms of Bielsk. CHAPTER XXXVI COUNT BIELSK MAKES LOVE TO THE CROWN PRINCESS Fearless to indiscretion--He "thou's" me--Puts all his chances on one card--Proposes a rendezvous--Shall I go or shall I not go?--Peril if I go and peril if I don't. DRESDEN, _April 26, 1897, Night_. We went to the ball as His Majesty's representatives, Frederick Augustus and I, and were obliged to say a few nothingnesses to a hundred paltry persons or more. When the Ambassador introduced Count Bielsk, I said in the most careless voice of the world, "I hear you love the theatre, Count." "I don't care a rap for the theatre," he replied. "I go to opera and operetta simply to see you, Imperial Highness." Such audacity! And he spoke quite loud. Frightened, I turned to the next person presented, saying something imbecile, no doubt. Later I withdrew upon the dais to watch the dancing, and at a moment when I was quite alone, he came up to me, making it appear as if I had commanded his attendance. "I have much to say to Your Imperial Highness." I didn't have my wits about me and didn't know how to act. He repeated twice or oftener: "Pray, Your Imperial Highness, I have something to say to you," until, at last, I threw etiquette to the winds and asked: "Why should you wish to talk to me in private, Count?" No royal woman indulging in lovers ever encouraged a rogue more carelessly. "Because my life and happiness depend on what I have to say to you." And, weaker still, I assented by the tone of my voice rather than words: "You make me curious, Count. Whatever you have to say, say it now." He raised his eyes to me, with a soul and reputation-destroying look. "Thanks!" Then wildly, clamorously: "Louise, I love you."