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Updated: May 8, 2025
'An old friend of my wife's her family had known him intimately when they lived in Germany took the most extraordinary fancy to it: the Grand Duke of Silberstadt-Schreckenstein, don't you know? He was perfectly enchanted but we miss the picture. 'It is very good of you, Lyon said. 'If it's in a great collection a work of my incompetent youth I am infinitely honoured.
On seeing Gertrude's companion he slowly stopped, looking at him. "Is this a cousin?" asked Felix. Then Gertrude saw that she must introduce him; but her ears, and, by sympathy, her lips, were full of all that he had been telling her. "This is the Prince," she said, "the Prince of Silberstadt-Schreckenstein!" Felix burst out laughing, and Mr.
The Wentworth household seemed to her very perfect in its kind wonderfully peaceful and unspotted; pervaded by a sort of dove-colored freshness that had all the quietude and benevolence of what she deemed to be Quakerism, and yet seemed to be founded upon a degree of material abundance for which, in certain matters of detail, one might have looked in vain at the frugal little court of Silberstadt-Schreckenstein.
My husband had expectations which have partly come into effect, so that now we do well enough. But meanwhile the picture went. 'Fortunately the original remained. But do you mean that two hundred was the value of the vase? Lyon asked. 'Of the vase? 'The beautiful old Indian vase the Grand Duke's offering. 'The Grand Duke? 'What's his name? Silberstadt-Schreckenstein.
Felix had finished his cake and wine; he got up, fixing upon the young girl his bright, expressive eyes. "She is married to a German prince Prince Adolf, of Silberstadt-Schreckenstein. He is not the reigning prince; he is a younger brother." Gertrude gazed at her informant; her lips were slightly parted. "Is she a a Princess?" she asked at last.
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