than that which the King of Glottenberg has."
"Then less beautiful?" asked Osra with a petulant smile.
"Nay, I do not say that; not less beautiful," he answered.
"Perhaps he would like this one better, and give me his in exchange; for I never saw his after it was finished. I think I will ask the King to write to him."
Giraldo had turned round suddenly as the Princess made this suggestion; she had spoken half in sport, half in continuing chagrin at the blindness shewn by the Court of Glottenberg. Now he stood staring at her with wide-open alarmed eyes; and he dropped his brushes on to the floor.
"What ails you, signor?" she cried. "I did but suggest exchanging the pictures."
He tried to regain his composure, as he stooped to pick up his brushes.
"The King of Glottenberg's picture is the best for him to have," said he sullenly. "This one, madame, I painted for you yourself, and for you alone."
"I pay the price and can do what I will with the picture," returned the Princess haughtily. "If I desire, I will give it to the King of Glottenberg.
