Of all his relatives the Archduchess Elizabeth was probably the one whom the Emperor loved the best. She saw but little of her mother, who travelled a great deal, both before her marriage to Count Lonyay and afterwards. Her principal companions were the daughters of the Archduchess Isabella; and her tastes are said to have been simple. She was fond of gardening—selling vegetables, to give the proceeds to the poor; and a pleasant story is told of her devotion to her foxterrier. The place was the Schönnbrunn Park, and the time was winter; her only attendant was a footman:— “The lively little dog jumped on the fresh ice of a fountain, which broke under him. The little animal struggled in the water, and Princess Elizabeth called to the footman to save it. The man found an excuse and did not move a hand. Then the Princess screamed at the top of her voice: ‘You nasty coward! I’m not half so big as you, but I’ll go in, even if I get drowned.’ The man held her fast, although she shrieked and struggled, and, a gardener coming to the rescue, the little dog was saved. But Princess Elizabeth dislikes all footmen and flunkeys since that day.” It seemed as if a destiny of great distinction was in store for her. There was even talk of marrying her to the German Emperor’s son, Prince Eitel Fritz, and raising her to the Austrian throne. Whether that plan would have proved agreeable to public opinion is doubtful; but a circumstance soon occurred which removed it from the sphere of practical matrimonial projects. At her very first ball Elizabeth met young Otto von Windischgraetz, a lieutenant in the lancers. She met him again at tennis-parties at Laxenburg; and presently she announced to one of her aunts that she meant to marry Otto von Windischgraetz, and that, if she were not allowed to marry him, she should spend the rest of her days in a convent. “Tell your grandfather about it,” said her aunt; and she went into the next room and told him. Otto von Windischgraetz was one of _the_ Windischgraetzes, and Francis Joseph owed a great deal to them. To Alfred von Windischgraetz, indeed, as was shown in an earlier chapter, he may almost be said to have owed his throne. But no one expected that fact to count with Francis Joseph—especially as Otto only belonged to a junior branch of the family; and it is quite likely that it did not count with him. What did count was his affection for his granddaughter. As a rule he inspired his relatives with awe rather than affection; but Elizabeth was really fond of him, and he was fond of her, and could not bear to see her cry. So he listened patiently, and promised to see what could be done. For the sequel we may quote Sir Horace Rumbold’s “Austrian Court in the Nineteenth Century”:—