disappointment--it had nerved and strengthened him.

Before his eight days' leave of absence had expired, his door was
again open to his circle of friends and confidants.

His first invited guest was the grand chamberlain, Baron Pollnitz.
The prince welcomed him with a bright and cheerful face.

"Do you know why I wished to see you?" he asked. "You must tell me
the chronique scandaleuse of our most honorable and virtuous city.
Commence immediately. What is the on dit of the day?"

"Ah," sighed Pollnitz, "life is now stupid, dull, and monotonous. As
you say, every one has become most honorable and virtuous. No
scandals or piquant adventures occur; baptisms, marriages, and
burials are the only events. This is really a miserable existence;
for as I do not wish to be baptized or to marry, and as I am not yet
ready for burial, I really do not know why I exist."

"But those that are married and baptized, doubtless know why they
exist," said the prince, smiling. "Tell me something of this happy
class. Whose, for example, is the latest marriage?"

"The latest marriage?" said Pollnitz, hesitating--"before answering,
I must allow myself to ask after the condition of your heart. Does
it still suffer?"

"No," cried the prince, "it does not suffer; it received a heavy
shower of cold water, and was cured instantly."