The king of Jugendheit was to marry her serene highness! It was a bad business, a bad business; no good would come of it.

The great duke was a weak man, after all.
The menials in and about the embassy felt the new importance of their positions.

So then, imagine the indignation of the majordomo, when, summoned at dusk one evening to the carriage gates, three or four days after the portentous news had issued from the palace, he found only a ragged and grimy carter who demanded peremptorily to be admitted and taken to his excellency at once.
"Be off with you, ragamuffin!" growled the majordomo.
"Be quick; open the gates!" replied the carter, swinging his whip threateningly.
"Go away!" The majordomo spun on his heels contemptuously.
"I will skin you alive," vowed the carter, striking the iron with the butt of his whip, "if you do not open these gates immediately.

Open!" There was real menace this time.

Could the fellow be crazy?
The majordomo concluded to temporize.
"My good man," he said conciliatorily, "you have brains.