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MacGrath, Harold, 1871-1932

"The Puppet Crown"

"
"He is on his deathbed. And his daughter, God knows what is in
store for her. Prince Frederick is dallying with his peasant
girl. The day for the wedding has come and gone, unless he
turned up to-day, which is not likely."
"Which is not likely indeed," repeated the Colonel sadly. He
pulled out his pipe, and smoked for a time. "But let us not
judge harshly, says the Book. There may be circumstances over
which Prince Frederick has no control. I suppose your sympathies
are on the other side of the path. Youth is always quick and
generous; it never stops to weigh causes or to reason why. And
strange, its judgment is almost always unerring. I am going to
share my dinner with you to-night. I'll try to brighten you up a
bit."
"Thanks."
"Then after dinner we'll play poker until they come to take you
to Brunnstadt."
"What sort of a city is it?"
"You will not see much of it; so I will not take the trouble to
tell you that it is slightly inferior to Bleiberg."
Sure enough, when the dark of evening fell, two servants entered
with trays and baskets, and proceeded to lay the table. They put
new candles in the bayonets.


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