That nothing might mar the harmony of this fete, the
prince and his wife had placed themselves on an equal footing with
their guests; the princess had declined any conspicuous role, and
was to appear in the simple but charming costume of a wood-nymph,
while the prince had selected an ideal and fanciful hunter's
costume. Even in the selection of huts the Princess Wilhelmina had
refused to make any choice, and had drawn her number as the others
did, even refusing a glimpse of it to her husband.
This day seemed given up to joy and pleasure. Every countenance was
bright and smiling, and the wood resounded with merry laughter, with
the tones of the hunter's horn, the baying of the hounds, which were
in Diana's train, and the singing of sweet songs. And still on how
many faces the smile was assumed, how many sighs arose, with how
many cares and sorrows were many of these apparently happy creatures
weighed down? Even the noble brow of the goddess Diana was not so
unruffled as Homer describes it, her countenance expressed care and
unrest, and in her great black eyes there glowed such fire as had
never shone in the orbs of the coy goddess.
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