"Aye, she loves you enough for the purpose, smith," grinned the King. "Do not be uneasy." "May I ask her if she loves me, sire?" "Why, no, smith. Your King's word must be enough for you." "And your Majesty says that she loves me?" "I do say so, smith." "Then," said Stephen, "I am very sorry for her; for as there's a heaven above us, sire, I do not love her." Prince Rudolf laughed; Osra's smile broadened in greater scorn; the Countess hid her face in her companion's bosom. The old King roared out a gruff burst. "Good, good!" he chuckled. "But it will come with marriage, smith; for with marriage love either comes or goes--eh, son Rudolf?--and since in this case it cannot go, you must not doubt, friend Stephen, that it will come." And he threw himself back in his chair, greatly amused that a smith, when offered the hand of a Countess, should hesitate to take it. He had not thought of so fine a humiliation as this for the presumptuous girl. "That might well be, sire," admitted Stephen, "were it not that I most passionately love another." "Our affections," said the King, "are unruly things, smith, and must be kept in subjection; is it not so, son Rudolf?" "It should be so, sire," answered the merry Prince. But the Princess Osra, whose eyes had been scanning Stephen's figure, here broke suddenly into the conversation. "Are you pledged to her whom you love so passionately?" she asked. "I have not ventured to tell her of my love, madame," answered he, bowing low. "Then there is no harm done," observed Prince Rudolf. "The harm lies in the telling, not in the loving." "Tell us something about her," commanded the Princess; and the King, who loved sport most when it hurt others, chimed in: "Aye, let's hear about her whom you prefer to this lady. In what shop does she work, smith? Or does she sell flowers? Or is she a serving-girl? Come, listen, Countess, and hear about your rival." Prince Henry took one step forward in uncontrolled anger; but he could not meet the savage mirth in the old man's eyes, and, sinking into a chair, spread his hand across his face. But Stephen, regarding the King with placid good-humour, began to speak of her whom he loved so passionately. And his voice was soft as he spoke. "She works in no shop, sire," said he, "nor does she sell flowers, nor is she a serving-girl; though I would not care if she were. But one day, when the clouds hung dark over our street, she came riding down it, and another girl with her. The two stopped before my door, and, seeing them, I came out----" "It is more than you do for me," remarked Prince Rudolf.