"Is this all you know about cleaning windows?" exclaimed the King, after an indignant glance at the partially wiped pane of glass.
"If it please your Majesty, I am unused to this form of labor," said the Count, in a haughty tone.
"To what kind are you used, then?" asked the King.
The Count reflected for a moment.
"I can ride, your Majesty, and play bridge," he replied; "and if your Majesty would allow me to supervise the royal tailors I am certain my experience would be useful."
"Your experience of riding or of bridge?" asked the King.
"My taste, I mean," answered the Count.
"But you profess to clean windows," insisted his Majesty, "just as I profess to govern this kingdom. Well, I am governing it, and you have got to clean these windows."
"Will your Majesty direct me how to perform this honorable duty?" said the Count.
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"There is no Pane of Glass between them"
"Certainly," replied his Majesty, with perfect simplicity and candor. "Take off your coat to begin with. You cannot work in a gold-laced coat like that."
And the Count, with, I fear, a rueful air, removed his coat.
"Possibly the Count requires some assistance," suggested the Vice-Chancellor. "Your Majesty might spare a practical housemaid."
"Send one immediately," said his Majesty, with royal generosity. "And now, Count Zonnbiem, you will have no excuse."
Now, it so happened that Gretchen Kopp, the maid who was sent to assist the Count, was not only of an unusually attractive appearance, but possessed a heart so warmly susceptible to the attractions of the opposite sex that on several occasions she had only been able to retain her position in the royal household through the influence of gentlemen at court, whose names I shall not mention, and through her own solemn promises to be good.
The Count speedily found his labors lightened in the most astonishing way, while Gretchen would have scrubbed all day in order to remain in the company of so fine a gentleman. As I do not profess to know what passed between these fellow laborers, I shall now return to my own share in this romantic adventure. Hardly had I entered the palace that morning when I happened to meet the Count Rassel-Dassel, who forthwith gave me a most entertaining and ludicrous account of what had befallen his fellow nobleman; though I could see that he was not a little apprehensive that his own neglect of some hereditary duty might by chance be discovered.
"Remember, my dear Sir Hugo, not a word to his Majesty about the absurd condition of washing the feet of ten beggars a year, on which I hold the lands of Rassel!" he said to me as we parted, and as my discretion would place
