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ceremonious in his manner to her and repel every attempt
to revive the old idyllic relation between them.
Frederik the Third, who was by no means lacking in
power of shrewd observation, soon noticed that Ulrik
Frederik was not pleased with his marriage, and he divined the
reason. Thinking to raise Marie Grubbe in Ulrik Frederik’s
eyes, he distinguished her whenever he could and
showered upon her every mark of royal grace, but it was of
no avail. It merely raised an army of suspicious and jealous
enemies around the favorite.
The Royal Family spent the summer, as often before, at
Frederiksborg. Ulrik Frederik and Marie moved out there
to help plan the junketings and pageants that were to be
held in September and October, when the Elector of
Saxony was coming to celebrate his betrothal with the
Princess Anne Sofie. The court was small as yet, but the circle
was to be enlarged in the latter part of August, when the
rehearsals of ballets and other diversions were to begin. It
was very quiet, and they had to pass the time as best they
could. Ulrik Frederik took long hunting and fishing trips
almost every day. The King was busy at his turning-lathe
or in the laboratory which he had fitted up in one of the
small towers. The Queen and the princesses were embroidering
for the coming festivities.
In the shady lane that led from the woods up to the
wicket of the little park, Marie Grubbe was wont to take
her morning walk. She was there to-day. Up in the lane,
her dress of madder-red shone against the black earth of
the walk and the green leaves. Slowly she came nearer. A
jaunty black felt hat trimmed only with a narrow pearl
braid rested lightly on her hair, which was piled up in
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