But again Baron Malfalconnet appeared as a preserver in the hour of need,
and, with the profound submissiveness bordering upon mockery which he
always showed her, asked why she had so speedily deprived his Majesty of
the pleasure of her society. Barbara gave way to her wrath and, while
vehemently forbidding the unseemly jibe, glanced with a bitter smile
toward the Emperor, who, in conversation with the two dignitaries, seemed
to have forgotten everything around him.

"The destiny of the world," observed the baron, "can not be set to dance
music. The domain of your obedient admirer, Malfalconnet, on the
contrary, obeys solely the heart throbs in this loyal breast; and if you,
fairest of women, will allow yourself to be satisfied with so small a
realm of sovereignty, it is at your disposal, together with these
tolerably agile feet, which still wait in vain for the well-merited
imperial gout."

The sharp refusal which this proposition received amused the baron
instead of offending him, and passing into a more conversational tone, he
proposed to her to leave this abode of ennui, where even the poor satyrs
on the hangings were holding their big hands over their mouths to hide
their yawns, and go with him to the dancing floor.

Barbara laid her hand on his arm and followed him to the pleasure ground
under the lindens, where the pretty daughters of the Ratisbon noble
families had just commenced a dance with the gentlemen belonging to their
circle.

Barbara had gone to school, exchanged kisses, and was a relative or
friend of most of these young girls in light gala dresses, adorned with
coloured flowers, whose names Malfalconnet asked, yet, after an interval