She loathes him, I'm sure--I _know_ she does. And she's _got_ to marry
him! That's what she gets for being a Grand Duke's daughter. Brabetz is
the heir apparent to some duchy or other over there and is supposed to
be the catch of the season. You've heard of him. He was in Paris this
season and cut quite a figure--a prince with real money in his purse,
you know. I wonder why it is that our American girls can't marry the
princes who have money instead of those who have none. Not that I wish
any of our girls such bad luck as Brabetz! I'll stake my head he'll
never forget me!" Chase concluded with a sharp, reflective laugh in
which his hearers joined, for the escapade which inspired it was being
slyly discussed in every embassy in Europe by this time, but no one
seemed especially loth to shake Chase's hand on account of it.

But to return: the advent of the Princess put fresh life into the
slowgoing city and court circles. Charming people, whom Chase had never
seen before, seemed to spring into existence suddenly; the streets took
on a new air; the bands played with a keener zest and the army prinked
itself into a most amazingly presentable shape. Officers with noble
blood in their veins stepped out of the obscurity of months; swords
clanked merrily instead of dragging slovenly at the heels of their
owners; uniforms glistened with a new ambition, and the whole atmosphere
of Thorberg underwent a change so startling that Chase could hardly
believe his senses. He lifted up his chin, threw out his chest, banished
the look of discontent from his face and announced to himself that
Thorberg was not such a bad place after all.

For days he swung blithely through the streets, the hang-dog look gone
from his eyes, always hoping for another glimpse of the fair sorceress
who had worked the great transformation. He even went so far as to read
the court society news in the local papers, and grew to envy the men