his whole world, but she did not wish. She was no Lola Montez, no political, scheming courtezan; she was purely an artist, a slave and mistress of the theater, and there is no question that sooner or later, when she had had time to recover from her apathy of grief, she would have spread her sylphide's wings and flown away for ever from Brandenstein and Eitel Gustav. But as it happened her destiny was solved for her, so that it was not necessary even to make this effort.
One night at dinner the Grand Duke informed his aunts that within the next week they would be permitted to witness the coronation in the Cathedral of Lina Varsovina, as Grand Duchess of Brandenstein and Kunitz. In many respects the aunts were madder than their nephew, but the Archduchess Grisele, who was still occasionally sane, and very frequently pious, saw fit to visit the Bishop, with whom she enjoyed a long and deliciously intimate conversation. The result of this tête-a-tête was that the Bishop, who had previously thought it kinder to ignore the Grand Duke's shameful intrigue, at once decided two things: first, that Eitel Gustav must once and for all be tamed; second, that this dancer, this Scarlet Woman, this court harlot, must leave Brandenstein, and the sooner the better.
The Bishop, once roused from ecclesiastical somnolence, became very definitely a man of action; he endeavored so conscientiously to tame the Grand Duke that he undoubtedly precipitated an attack of homicidal mania that might, without his well-meant homily, have remained dormant for many months, even for many years; Eitel Gustav, perhaps unreasonably vexed by this intolerable interference with his personal liberty, at once produced a carving knife, and announced impulsively that he had decided upon a holocaust; the Bishop, of course, should be slain first, then it would be the turn of the aunts, and