From a drawer she took out the drawings of the Czar's Kremlin and her own castle remembrances from George. As she looked at them and mused over them, many thoughts arose in her mind. She remembered the day when, unnoticed by father or mother, she had stolen down to where the Porter's wife lay on her death bed; she had sat by her side, held her hand, and heard her last words, "Blessings - George!" The mother's thoughts had been of her son. But now the words seemed to Emilie to carry a deeper meaning. In truth, George was with her on her birthday.
It so happened that the next day there was another birthday in the house, the General's, for he had been born the day after his daughter - naturally, many years earlier. Again there were presents, and among them a splendid - looking saddle, extremely comfortable and expensive; its only duplicate belonged to one of the princes. Who could have sent it? The General was in ecstasy. If the little card with it had said, "Thanks for yesterday," we could all guess where it came from, but the card said, "From one whom the General does not know."
"Who in the world is there I don't know?" said the General. "I know everybody!" And his thoughts went from one to another of the many people he knew; indeed, he knew everybody. "It is from my wife!" he said at last. "She's playing a trick on me! Charmant!"
But she wasn't playing a trick on him; that time was past.
Once more there was a party, but this one wasn't at the General's. It was a fancy-dress ball given by one of the princes; many of the guests wore masks.
The General went as Rubens, in a Spanish costume with a small ruff and a rapier, and carried himself well indeed. His wife was Madame Rubens, in black velvet with a high bodice that was terribly warm, and her neck in a millstone - that is to say, of course, a large ruff. She looked exactly like a Dutch painting of the General's, in which the hands were especially admired; they were an exact likeness of those of the General's wife. Emilie went as Psyche, in lace and muslin. She was a floating tuft of swan's-down; she had no need of the wings and just wore them to show she was Psyche.
It was a scene of magnificent pomp and splendor, with lights and flowers and many riches, and all in good taste. There was so much to see that one hardly had a chance to take notice of Madame Rubens' beautiful hands.
Then a black Domino, with an acacia flower in his hood, danced by with Psyche.
"Who's that?" asked the General's wife.
"His Royal Highness," said the General. "I'm quite sure of it. I knew him immediately by his handshake."
The Generals' wife was doubtful.
General Rubens wasn't doubtful. He drew the black Domino aside and traced the royal initials in the palm of his hand. They were denied, but a hint was given - the motto of the saddle - "One whom the General does not know!"
"But then I do know you!" said the General. "It was you who sent me the saddle." The Domino waved his hand and disappeared among the dancers.
"Who was that black Domino you were dancing with, Emilie?" asked the General's wife.
"I didn't ask his name," she replied.
"Because you knew it! It's the Professor! Count," she continued, turning to the Count, who stood near by, "your Protégé is here; the black
Domino with the acacia flower."
"It's quite possible, your ladyship," he replied. "But, still, one of the princes is wearing the same costume."
"I know that handshake," said the General. "I received the saddle from the prince! I'm so sure I'm right that I am going to ask him to dinner."
"Do so," said the Count. "It it's the prince, he'll be sure to come."
"And if it's the other he won't come," said the General, making his way to the black Domino, who was standing talking to the King. The General offered a most respectful invitation, together with hopes of a better acquaintance. He smiled confidently, for he knew quite well whom he was inviting, and he spoke loudly and distinctly.
The Domino lifted his mask, and it was George!
"Does the General repeat his invitation?" he asked.
The General drew himself up and inch, took on a stiffer bearing, took two steps backward and one step forward, as if he were dancing a minuet. All the gravity and sternness he could muster - in short, all the General - were in his patrician features.
"I never go back on my word - the Professor is invited!" And he bowed, with a sidelong glance at the King, who must certainly have heard everything.