“'Madame la Princesse and beloved Niece,--It was with--to me of late years----a rare satisfaction that I read the not the less affectionate that they were polite lines you vouchsafed to inscribe to me, an old and useless but not forgotten servant of an Imperial master. Immediately on perusing the aforesaid so-called note, I despatched my adjutant to the head-quarters of the Franz Carl, to obtain----no service rules to the contrary forbidding, nor any default's punition in any wise preventing----a day's furlough for the Cadet von Dalton--” “What regiment is yours?” said Kate, hastily, to the soldier. “Franz Carl Infanterie, Highness,” said the youth, respectfully, using the title he had heard assumed by the servant. “Do you know many of your comrades,----among the cadets, I mean?” “There are but seven in the battalion, Highness, and I know them all.” “Is Von Dalton an acquaintance of yours?” “I am Von Dalton, Highness,” said the youth, while a flush of surprise and pleasure lighted up his handsome features. “Frank! Frank!” cried she, springing towards him with open arms; and ere he could recognize her, clasping him round the neck. “Is this real? Is this a dream? Are you my own sister Kate?” cried the boy, almost choked with emotion. “And how are you here? and how thus?” and he touched the robe of costly velvet as he spoke. “You shall know all, dear, dear Frank. You shall hear everything when the joy of this meeting will let me speak.” [Illustration: 099] “They call you Highness; and how handsome you've grown!” “Have I, Frank?” said she, pressing him down to a seat beside her, while, with hands interclasped, they sat gazing on each other. “I am only beginning to remember you,” said he, slowly. “You never used to wear your hair in long ringlets thus. Even your figure is changed; you are taller, Kate.” “It is the mere difference of dress, Frank,” said she, blushing with conscious pride. “No, no; you are quite changed. Even as I sit here beside you, I feel I know not what of shame at my daring to be so near----” “So great a lady, you would say, dear Frank,” said she, laughing. “Poor boy, if you knew--” She stopped, and then, throwing her arms around his neck, went on rapidly: “But, my own dear brother, tell me of yourself: are you happy; do you like the service; are they kind to you; is Uncle Stephen as we hoped he should be?” “My story is soon told, Kate,” said he; “I am where I was the day I entered the army. I should have been made a corporal--” “A corporal!” cried Kate, laughing. “A good thing it is, too,” said the youth. “No guards to mount, no fatigue duty, neither night patrol nor watch, and four kreutzers extra pay.” “Poor dear boy!” cried she, kissing his forehead, while she gazed on him with a compassionate affection that spoke a whole world of emotion. “But tell me of yourself, Kate. Why do they call you the Princess?”