you. I think it was the Prince that conquered.'

'And, sir, you would be right,' replied Killian seriously. 'In the
eyes of God, I do not question but you would be right; but men, sir,
look at these things differently, and they laugh.'

'They made a song of it,' observed Fritz. 'How does it go? Ta-tum-
ta-ra . . .'

'Well,' interrupted Otto, who had no great anxiety to hear the song,
'the Prince is young; he may yet mend.'

'Not so young, by your leave,' cried Fritz. 'A man of forty.'

'Thirty-six,' corrected Mr. Gottesheim.

'O,' cried Ottilia, in obvious disillusion, 'a man of middle age!
And they said he was so handsome when he was young!'

'And bald, too,' added Fritz.

Otto passed his hand among his locks. At that moment he was far
from happy, and even the tedious evenings at Mittwalden Palace began
to smile upon him by comparison.

'O, six-and-thirty!' he protested. 'A man is not yet old at six-
and-thirty. I am that age myself.'

'I should have taken you for more, sir,' piped the old farmer. 'But
if that be so, you are of an age with Master Ottekin, as people call