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.
