“You are so unhappy already,” she continued, turning to the Queen; “You have lost so much, and you need so much, that I should be sorry to add to your burden of grief! If I thought I could make you glad,--if I thought I could make you see the world through my eyes, with all the patient, loving human hearts about you, waiting for the sympathy you never give; I would come to you often, and try to find the warm pulse of you somewhere under all that splendour which you clothe yourself in, and which is as valueless to me as the dust on the common road! And if I could show _you_” and here she fixed her steadfast glance upon the King,--“where you might win friends instead of losing them,--if I could persuade you to look and see where the fires of Revolution are beginning to smoulder and kindle under your very Throne,--if I could bear messages from you of compassion and tenderness to all the disaffected and disloyal, I would ask you on my knees to let me be your daughter in affection, as I am by marriage; and I would unveil to you the secrets of your own kingdom, which is slowly but steadily rising against you! But you judge me wrongly--you estimate me falsely,--and where I might have given aid, your own misconception of me makes me useless! You consider me low-born and a mere peasant! How can you be sure of that?--for truly I do not know who I am, or where I came from. For aught I can tell, the storm was my father, and the sea my mother,--but my parents may as easily have been Royal! You judge me half-educated,--and wholly unworthy to be your son’s wife. Will the ladies of your Court compete with me in learning? I am ready! What I hear of their attainments has not as yet commanded my respect or admiration,--and you yourself as King, do nothing to show that you care for either art or learning! I wonder, indeed, that you should even pause to consider whether your son’s wife is educated or not!” Absolutely silent, the King kept his eyes upon her. He was experiencing a novel sensation which was altogether delightful to him, and more instructive than any essay or sermon. He, the ostensible ruler of the country, was face to face with a woman who had no fear of him,--no awe for his position,--no respect for his rank, but who simply spoke to him as though he had been any ordinary person. He saw a scarcely perceptible smile on his son’s handsome features,--he saw that Von Glauben’s eyes twinkled, despite his carefully preserved seriousness of demeanour, and he realized the almost absurd powerlessness of his authority in such an embarrassing position. The assumption of a mute contempt, such as was vaguely expressed by the Queen, appeared to him to be the best policy;--he therefore adopted that attitude, without however producing the least visible effect. Gloria’s face, softly flushed with suppressed emotion, looked earnest and impassioned, but neither abashed nor afraid.