MARK TWAIN

oil-painted lake scene which fascinated me, my mind was
so luxuriously busy imagining what was going to happen.
And I had one deep, deep, regret—that Howells was not
there—there to fill the occasion with colossal blunders
and make it too funny for this world! Howells or Rev.
Twichell—or both. However, with three born blunder-
makers together, perhaps that would have been too much.

I imagined the Princess coming home and finding that
a couple of innocent wild Americans, who were meaning
no harm, had been mistaken for somebody who was
really expected, and had gotten themselves into a situa-
tion common to the mendacious stage, but wholly impos-
sible in real life. I knew that the ordinary princess of
books and the stage would have no difficulty in dealing
with this matter—it would be quite civil: order up the
sentinel and clear these foolish intruders out. But this
was not that kind of a princess—she was made of finer
fiber than that. Her first thought would be, how to get
us out of there without humiliating us. She would be
troubled now; and the sorrowful comedy would be ex-
haustively complete and perfect all around. How would
she proceed? I set myself the pleasant entertainment
of ciphering that out. I said to myself, "In the first place,
she

And then she came in! And I got no further with my
plot. But I could have ciphered it out—I know it With
her came her sister the Archduchess—eloquent, deep eyes,
and the face a book where the records of a right heart
are clearly written. She had suffered a bereavement and
if I had had more German at my command, there was a
subject which was close to my heart! Her daughters were
with her, and also the children of her sister—that princess
who assists her husband in his noble work of affording
relief to people whose eyes have suffered from disease.
It was a splendid pleasure to be this close to that prince
and his princess, whom I have so long held in such deep

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