Dolf presented himself at the castle on the day following. His mother had made him fine with an old red necktie, and had combed his tangle of black curls, and scrubbed his face till it shone.
But Dolf was aware of many drawbacks,—his ragged sleeve—his bare feet, and when a big man-servant ushered him into the present of the Duchess herself, he could hardly lift his eyes from the floor.
The lady soon sent him away, pitying his confusion.
Outside the room, alone with Conrad, Dolt found his voice again.
"Is she your mother?" he asked.
"The Duchess? Yes, of course."
"She is beautiful as an angel from heaven. You must love her much."
"Of course," said Conrad again, rather stiffly. Then, with a change of tone,—"Come and see the horses! I will show them to you."
Dolf was ready. Once in the stable,
