'Nay; what should I do with it?
Grunewald is but a petty state; my ambition swells above it.

I shall ask--I find I want nothing,' she concluded.

'I will give you something instead.

I will give you leave to kiss me--once.' Otto drew near, and she put up her face; they were both smiling, both on the brink of laughter, all was so innocent and playful; and the Prince, when their lips encountered, was dumbfoundered by the sudden convulsion of his being.

Both drew instantly apart, and for an appreciable time sat tongue-tied.