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Supervised
Learning with
Python
Concepts and Practical
Implementation Using Python
—
Vaibhav Verdhan
Foreword by Dr. Eli Yechezkiel Kling (PhD)
Supervised Learning
with Python
Concepts and Practical
Implementation Using Python
Vaibhav Verdhan
Foreword by Dr. Eli Yechezkiel Kling (PhD)
Supervised Learning with Python: Concepts and Practical
Implementation Using Python
Vaibhav Verdhan
Limerick, Ireland
v
Table of Contents
ML’s Popularity����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������39
Use Cases of ML�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������41
Summary������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������44
vi
Table of Contents
vii
Table of Contents
viii
Table of Contents
Index�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������367
ix
About the Author
Vaibhav Verdhan has 12+ years of experience
in data science, machine learning, and
artificial intelligence. An MBA with
engineering background, he is a hands-on
technical expert with acumen to assimilate
and analyze data. He has led multiple
engagements in ML and AI across geographies
and across retail, telecom, manufacturing,
energy, and utilities domains. Currently
he resides in Ireland with his family and is
working as a Principal Data Scientist.
xi
About the Technical Reviewer
Irfan Elahi is a full stack customer-focused
cloud analytics specialist bearing the unique
and proven combination of diverse consulting
and technical competencies (cloud, big
data, and machine learning) with a growing
portfolio of successful projects delivering
substantial impact and value in multiple
capacities across telecom, retail, energy,
and health-care sectors. Additionally, he is
an analytics evangelist as is evident from
the published book, Udemy courses, blogposts, trainings, lectures, and
presentations with global reach.
xiii
Foreword
How safe is home birthing? That is a good question. Pause a moment and
let yourself contemplate it.
I am sure you can see how the answer to this question can affect
personal decisions and policy choices. The answer could be given as a
probability, a level classification, or an alternative cost. Another natural
reaction is “it depends.” There are many factors that could affect the safety
of home birthing.
I took you through this thought exercise to show you that you naturally
think like a data scientist. You understood the importance of stipulating
clearly the focus of the analysis and what could explain different outcomes.
The reason you are embarking on a journey through this book is that you
are not sure how to express these instinctive notions mathematically and
instruct a computer to “find” the relationship between the “Features” and
the “Target.”
When I started my career 30-odd years ago, this was the domain
of statisticians who crafted a mathematical language to describe
relationships and noise. The purpose of predictive modeling was in its
essence to be a tool for separating a signal or a pattern out of seemingly
chaotic information and reporting how well the partition was done.
Today, machine learning algorithms harnessing computing brute force
add a new paradigm. This has created a new profession: the data scientist.
The data scientist is a practitioner who can think in terms of statistical
methodology, instruct a computer to carry out the required processing,
and interpret the results and reports.
xv
Foreword
Becoming a good data scientist is a journey that starts with learning the
basics and mechanics. Once you are done exploring this book you might
also be able to better see where you will want to deepen your theoretical
knowledge. I would like to suggest you might find it interesting to look into
the theory of statistical modeling in general and the Bayesian paradigm
specifically. Machine learning is computational statistics after all.
Dr. Eli. Y. Kling (BSc. Eng. MSc. PHD) London, UK. June 2020.
xvi
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank Apress publications, Celestin John, Shrikant
Vishwarkarma, and Irfan Elahi for the confidence shown and the support
extended. Many thanks to Dr. Eli Kling for the fantastic forward to the
book. Special words for my family—Yashi, Pakhi, and Rudra—without their
support it would have been impossible to complete this work.
xvii
Introduction
“It is tough to make predictions, especially about the future.”
—Yogi Berra
xix
Introduction
xx
CHAPTER 1
Introduction to
Supervised Learning
“The future belongs to those who prepare for it today.”
— Malcom X
What Is ML?
When we post a picture on Facebook or shop at Amazon, tweet or watch
videos on YouTube, each of these platforms is collecting data for us. At
each of these interactions, we are leaving behind our digital footprints.
These data points generated are collected and analyzed, and ML allows
these giants to make logical recommendations to us. Based on the genre
of videos we like, Netflix/YouTube can update our playlist, what links we
can click, and status we can react to; Facebook can recommend posts to us,
observing what type of product we frequently purchase; and Amazon can
suggest our next purchase as per our pocket size! Amazing, right?
The short definition for ML is as follows: “In Machine Learning, we
study statistical/mathematical algorithms to learn the patterns from the
data which are then used to make predictions for the future.”
And ML is not limited to the online mediums alone. Its power has been
extended to multiple domains, geographies, and use cases. We will be
describing those use cases in detail in the last section of this chapter.
2
Chapter 1 Introduction to Supervised Learning
So, in ML, we analyze vast amounts of data and uncover the patterns in it.
These patterns are then applied on real-world data to make predictions
for the future. This real-world data is unseen, and the predictions will help
businesses shape their respective strategies. We do not need to explicitly
program computers to do these tasks; rather, the algorithms take the
decisions based on historical data and statistical models.
But how does ML fit into the larger data analysis landscape? Often,
we encounter terms like data analysis, data mining, ML, and artificial
intelligence (AI). Data science is also a loosely used phrase with no
exact definition available. It will be a good idea if these terms are
explored now.
3
Chapter 1 Introduction to Supervised Learning
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Figure 1-1. Relationship between AI, ML, deep learning, and data
science shows how these fields are interrelated with each other and
empower each other
Deep learning is one of the hottest trends now. Neural networks are
the heart and soul of deep learning. Deep learning is a subset of AI and ML
and involves developing complex mathematical models to solve business
problems. Mostly we use neural networks to classify images and analyze
text audio and video data.
Data science lies at the juxtaposition of these various domains. It
involves not only ML but also statistics understanding, coding expertise
and business acumen to solve business problems. A data scientist’s job
is to solve business problems and generate actionable insights for the
business. Refer to Table 1-1 to understand the capabilities of data science
and its limitations.
4
Chapter 1 Introduction to Supervised Learning
Table 1-1. Data Science: How Can It Help Us, Its Usages, and
Limitations
How data science can help Limitations of data science
Assist in making decisions by analyzing multi
dimensional data which is quite difficult for a Data is not an alternative to experience
human being
Use statistical tools & techniques to uncover Data science cannot replace the subject matter
patterns knowledge
Data science depends on data availability and
The algorithms further help in measuring the
data quality. Depending on the input,we will get
accuracy of the patterns & the claims
the output
Data science will not increase the revenue or
The results are reproducible and can be improved sales or output by 50% overnight. Similarly, it will
not decrease the cost by 1/3 immediately
The machine learns, which is a big difference A data science project takes time to be
-from the traditional software engineering implemented
With the preceding discussion, the role of ML and its relationship with
other data-related fields should be clear to you. You would have realized by
now that “data” plays a pivotal role in ML. Let’s explore more about data,
its types and attributes.
5
Chapter 1 Introduction to Supervised Learning
6
Chapter 1 Introduction to Supervised Learning
A vital aspect often ignored and less discussed is data quality. Data
quality determines the quality of the analysis and insights generated.
Remember, garbage in, garbage out.
The attributes of a good dataset are represented in Figure 1-3.
While you are approaching a problem, it is imperative that you spend
a considerable amount of time ascertaining that your data is of the
highest quality.
7
Chapter 1 Introduction to Supervised Learning
8
Chapter 1 Introduction to Supervised Learning
9
Chapter 1 Introduction to Supervised Learning
10
Chapter 1 Introduction to Supervised Learning
Consider this: you want to automate the opening of a cola can. Using
software, you would code the exact steps with precise coordinates and
instructions. For that, you should know those precise details. However,
using ML, you would “show” the process of opening a can to the system
many times. The system will learn the process by looking at various steps
or “train” itself. Next time, the system can open the can itself. Now let’s
look at a real-life example.
Imagine you are working for a bank which offers credit cards. You
are in the fraud detection unit and it is your job to classify a transaction
as fraudulent or genuine. Of course, there are acceptance criteria like
transaction amount, time of transaction, mode of transaction, city of
transaction, and so on.
Let us implement a hypothetical solution using software; you might
implement conditions like those depicted in Figure 1-4. Like a decision
tree, a final decision can be made. Step 1: if the transaction amount is
below the threshold X, then move to step 2 or else accept it. In step 2,
the transaction time might be checked and the process will continue
from there.
11
Chapter 1 Introduction to Supervised Learning
However using ML, you will collect the historical data comprising past
transactions. It will contain both fraudulent and genuine transactions.
You will then expose these transactions to the statistical algorithm and
train it. The statistical algorithm will uncover the relationship between
attributes of the transaction with its genuine/fraud nature and will keep
that knowledge safe for further usage.
Next time, when a new transaction is shown to the system, it will
classify it fraudulent or genuine based on the historical knowledge it
has generated from the past transactions and the attributes of this new
unseen transaction. Hence, the set of rules generated by ML algorithms are
dependent on the trends and patterns and offer a higher level of flexibility.
Development of an ML solution is often more iterative than software
engineering. Moreover, it is not exactly accurate like software is. But ML is
a good generalized solution for sure. It is a fantastic solution for complex
business problems and often the only solution for really complicated
problems which we humans are unable to comprehend. Here ML plays a
pivotal role. Its beauty lies in the fact that if the training data changes, one
need not start the development process from scratch. The model can be
retrained and you are good to go!
So ML is undoubtedly quite useful, right! It is time for you to
understand the steps in an ML project. This will prepare you for a deeper
journey into ML.
M
L Projects
An ML project is like any other project. It has a business objective to be
achieved, some input information, tools and teams, desired accuracy
levels, and a deadline!
However, execution of an ML project is quite different. The very first
step in the ML process is the same, which is defining a business objective
and a measurable parameter for measuring the success criteria. Figure 1-5
shows subsequent steps in an ML project.
12
Chapter 1 Introduction to Supervised Learning
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Another Random Scribd Document
with Unrelated Content
"There's a dash about that fellow that's fine!" remarked Trafford to Von
Hügelweiler, who was standing near him, wrapped during inaction in a big
military ulster.
The Captain of the Guides had already in his own mind ruled
Schmolder out of the competition, exaggerating his faults to himself with
egotistical over-keenness. Einstein, however, was skating so brilliantly that
Von Hügelweiler was beginning to experience the deepest anxiety lest he
should prove the ultimate winner of the coveted trophy. The anxiety indeed
was so deep that he refused to admit it even to himself.
Ever and again there was an almost imperceptible flick of the ankle, a
slight shifting of the angle of the shoulders, and some difficult turn had
been performed, and he was travelling away in a slightly different direction
at a slightly increased rate of speed. The crowd watched intently, but with
little applause. They felt that it was wonderful, but they did not particularly
admire.
"He wants a bigger rink than the Rundsee!" exclaimed Schmolder. "A
man like that should have the Arctic Ocean swept for him."
"If you can learn anything from Meyer's face," said Captain Einstein
drily, "you should give up the army and go in for diplomacy."
But Trafford had just then momentarily retired from the rink. He was
changing his skates for the pair he had bought at Frau Krabb's the previous
evening.
"The King's Prize: the winner is Herr George Trafford; second, Captain
Ulrich Salvator von Hügelweiler."
Trafford looked round and beheld the competitor who had been placed
second. The tone of the felicitation was one of undisguised bitterness, the
face of the speaker was the ashen face of a cruelly disappointed man. And
Von Hügelweiler, honestly believing himself cheated of his due,—and not
bearing to see another receive the prize which he felt should have been his,
—slunk from the scene with hate and misery and all uncharitableness in his
tortured soul. Then, as he took off his skates, the cheering broke out again,
and told that the American was receiving the trophy from the King's hand.
An ejaculation of bitterness and wrath burst from his lips.
Hardly had he breathed his angry word into the frosty air when a small
hand plucked at his fur-lined coat, and looking round he perceived a
charming little face gazing into his own.
"Hush! you tactless man," said the Princess Gloria, for it was no other.
"Do you want to have me arrested? For the sake of old times," she went on,
putting her arm in his, "I claim your protection."
But Hügelweiler had not thought of delivering the exiled Princess to the
authorities! For one thing, his mind was too occupied with self-pity to have
room for State interests; secondly, he was still in love with the fascinating
creature who looked up at him so appealingly, that he would sooner have
killed himself than betrayed the appeal of those wondrous eyes.
They were strolling away from the Rundsee in the direction of the town,
and a straggling multitude of the spectators was streaming behind them in
the snowy Thiergarten.
"I can accept open defeat, Princess, like a man, though I had set my
heart on the prize. But I was not fairly beaten. The American skated his
figures as ungracefully as they could be skated."
"The King's service frequently involves dirty work," she said, looking at
him out of the corner of her eyes.
"So it appears!"
"Why not embrace a service that calls for deeds of valour, and leads to
high honour?"
Von Hügelweiler looked at the bright young face that now was gazing
into his so hopefully. A thousand memories of a youthful ardour, born
amidst the suns and snows of Weissheim, rushed into his kindling heart. He
had lost the King's Cup; might he not wipe out the bitter memory of defeat
by winning something of incomparably greater value? There was a price, of
course; there always was, it seemed. Last night it was the honour of a clean
man; to-day it was loyalty to his King. But how much greater the present
bribe than that offered by the Commander-in-Chief! The intoxication of
desire tempted him, tempted him all the more shrewdly because of his
recent depression. What had he to do with a career that was tainted with
such a head as the scheming Jew, Meyer? What loyalty did he owe to a man
served by such officers and such method as was Karl? The Princess's eyes
repeated their question, and their silent pleading shook him as no words
could have done.
"Honour."
"And—love?"
There was silence momentary, but long enough for the forging of a lie.
A great light shone in the Captain's eyes, and the sombre beauty of his
face was illumined by a mighty joy.
CHAPTER SIXTH
"Felicitations," she said, taking the trophy in both hands, "I drink to St.
Liedwi, the patron saint of skaters, coupled with the name of George
Trafford, winner of the King's Cup."
"I drink a health unto their Majesties, King Edward of England and
King Karl of Grimland, and to the President of the United States," he said;
and then bowing to his host, "Also to another good sportsman, one Nervy
Trafford. God bless 'em all!"
Trafford received the cup from Saunders, his lips muttered something
inaudible, and tossing back his head he drank deep.
"What was your toast, Mr. Trafford?" demanded Mrs. Saunders quietly.
"A secret! But I insist upon knowing," returned the lady. "Tell me, what
was your toast?"
"Wine, woman, and song!" repeated Mrs. Saunders. "A mere abstract
toast, which you would have confessed to at once. Please particularise?"
"The 'wine,'" said Trafford, "is the wine of champagne, which we drink
to-night, '89 Cliquot. 'Woman,' is Eve in all her aspects and in all countries
—Venus victrix, sea-born Aphrodite, Astarte of the Assyrians, Kali of the
Hindoos. God bless her! God bless all whom she loves and all who love
her!"
"The song is the one I have heard one hundred and fifty times since I
have been here," replied Trafford. "Its title is unknown to me, but the
waiters hum it in the passages, the cabmen chant it from their box seats, the
street-boys whistle it with variations in the Bahnhofstrasse."
"Of course you would," said Saunders. "You have the true Grimlander's
love of anarchy. But if you wish, we will subsequently adjourn to the Eden
Theatre of Varieties in the Karlstrasse. I am told that the Rothlied is being
sung there by a beautiful damsel of the aristocratic name of Schmitt."
"I have seen her posters," said Trafford, "and I should like, I confess, to
see the original. But what of Mrs. Saunders? Is the 'Eden' a respectable
place of entertainment?"
"It is an Eden of more Adams than Eves," said Mrs. Saunders. "No, I do
not propose to follow you into its smoky, beer-laden atmosphere. I am
going to accompany Frau generalin von Bilderbaum to the opera to hear 'La
Bohême.' But before I leave I want further enlightenment on the subject of
your toast. 'Wein' is all right, and 'Gesang' is all right, but what about
'Weib'? I thought you had sworn off the sex."
"You are offering your heart and hand and soul to the first eligible
maiden who crosses your path?" asked Mrs. Saunders, with upraised brows.
* * * * *
The auditorium of the Eden Theatre was a long oblong chamber, with a
crude scheme of decoration, and no scheme of ventilation worth speaking
about. It possessed, however, a good orchestra, an excellent brew of lager
beer, and usually presented a tolerably attractive show to the public of
Weidenbruck. For the sum of four kronen per head Saunders and Trafford
obtained the best seats in the building. For the expenditure of a further
trivial sum they obtained long tumblers of the world-famed tigerbräu.
"No. Midgets."
"Oh, it isn't the midgets yet, after all," said Saunders, consulting his
programme. "It's the Schöne Fräulein Schmitt—the beautiful Miss Smith. I
wonder if she's as lovely as her posters."
Her black skirt was short, her black bodice low, and her black picture
hat exceedingly large, but her limbs were shapely, her eyes marvellously
bright though small, and there was a vivacity and grace in her movements
that put her predecessor to shame. When she sang, her voice proved to be a
singularly pure soprano, and,—what was more remarkable,—gave evidence
of considerable taste and sound training. The song was a dainty one, all
about a young lady called Nanette, who conquered all hearts till she met
someone who conquered hers. And then, of course, Nanette lost her art, as
well as her heart, and could make no impression on the only man who had
really touched the deeps of her poor little soul. The last verse, naturally, was
a tragedy,—the usual tragedy of the smiling face and the aching bosom. The
idea was not exactly a novel one, but the air was pretty, and the singer's
personality won a big success from the commonplace theme. Anyway, the
audience rose to her, and there was much clapping of hands, clinking of
beer glasses, and guttural exclamations of enthusiasm.
"Perhaps it is the young lady," suggested Trafford. "I noticed she fixed
her beady black eyes on you during the last verse."
"I think not," said Saunders drily. "The young lady I was referring to
was a somewhat more exalted personage than Fräulein Schmitt."
The fascinating songstress re-appeared for her encore, and this time the
orchestra struck up a martial air with a good deal of rolling drums in it.
Again the Fräulein sang, and now the burthen of her song was of
battlefields and war's alarms. The tune was vastly inspiriting, and the
audience knew it well, taking up the chorus with infectious enthusiasm.
And of a truth the air was an intoxicating one. There was gunpowder in
it, musketry and cold steel, reckless charges and stern movements of
advance. One caught the thunder of hoofs and the blare of bugles. Its
infection became imperious, maddening even,—for the audience forgot
their pipes and their tigerbräu, and beat time to the insistent rhythm, till the
chorus gave them a chance of imparting their enthusiasm to the roaring
refrain. The girl herself seemed the embodiment of martial ardour. She trod
the stage like a little war-horse, her eye sought the gallery and struck fire
from the beer-loving bourgeoisie. For a second her gaze seemed to fall upon
Saunders mockingly, and with an air of challenge. Then she glanced round
the crowded house, held it spellbound, lifted it up, carried it to high regions
of carnage, self-sacrifice, and glory. The audience roared, clapped,
screamed with exuberant acclaim. Their state was frénétique—no other
word, French, English, or German, well describes it.
The encore verse was more pointed, more sinister, less general in its
application. It spoke of wrongs to be righted, tyranny to be overcome,
freedom to be gained. It hinted of an uplifting of the proletariat, of armed
citizens and frenzied women, of tumult in square and street; it breathed of
barricades and civic strife, the vast upheaval of a discontented people
determined to assert their rights. Men looked at each other and stirred
uneasily in their seats, and then glanced round in apprehension,—as if
expecting the entrance of the police. The song was a veritable
"Marseillaise," a trumpet call to revolution, a match in a barrel of
gunpowder; and with the final chorus and the stirring swing of the refrain,
all remnants of prudence and restraint were cast to the winds. The house
rose en masse; men mounted their seats and waved sticks and umbrellas
aloft; a party of young officers drew their swords and brandished them with
wild insurgent cries. Forbidden names were spoken, cheers were raised for
popular outlaws and suspects, groans for unpopular bureaucrats and the
King's favourites. It was an intoxicating moment,—whatever one's
sympathies might be,—and it was obvious enough that the temper of the
people was frankly revolutionary, and that the authorities would be quite
justified,—from their point of view,—in arresting the audience and the
management en bloc.
"Not if you want to keep your thick skull weather-proof," was the
sensible retort. "There's always discontent in Grimland, but there's a big sea
running just now, and it isn't wise to fight the elements. Sit tight, my friend,
and you'll live to see more exciting things than a noisy night at the Eden
Music-Hall."
The curtain was down again now, but the audience still roared for the re-
appearance of their favourite, still clamoured for another verse of the
intoxicating song.
"Hullo! what's this?" cried Trafford. An attendant had edged her way up
to Saunders, and was offering him a folded note on a tray. "If you have any
pleasant memories of the winter of 1904, come round to the stage door and
ask for Fräulein Schmitt." That was the purport of the note, and after
reading it, Saunders handed it to Trafford.
"Then it must be your lady friend, after all," maintained the latter,
smiling at his friend.
"It must indeed," acquiesced Saunders with a frown. "Come round with
me now."
Under the guidance of a pale youth in a shabby pony coat, they entered
a gloomy passage, ascended a steep flight of stone steps, and halted before a
door, which had once been painted green.
The pale one knocked, and a clear musical voice gave the necessary
permission to enter.
A naturally bare and ugly room had been rendered attractive by a big
stove, several comfortable chairs, and an abundance of photographs,
unframed sketches and artistic knick-knacks. It had been rendered still more
attractive by the presence of a charming young lady, who was engaged—
with the assistance of her dresser—in removing all traces of "make-up"
from her comely lips and cheeks.
"So you have come, Herr Saunders! You have not, then, altogether
forgotten the winter of 1904?"
Saunders took the small hand which had been extended to him and
bowed low over it.
"Ah, but you forget that I lost a dear father and a loved brother in the
struggle for that toy castle!" There was almost a life-time of sorrow in the
young girl's voice.
"Pardon me, Princess," he said, "I did not forget that, nor the fact that
you nearly lost your life, and I mine. But my memory loves rather to linger
on the bob-sleighing excursions, the tea-fights at Frau Mengler's, the
frivolous disputations and serious frivolities—all with such a delicious
substratum of intrigue."
"You have a convenient memory, mein Herr," she said quietly. "You
remember the bright things, you half remember the grey, the black you
entirely forget."
Saunders' smile faded, for there was still a touch of sadness in the girl's
words. Under the circumstances it was not unnatural, but he thought it more
considerate to keep the interview from developing on serious lines.
"The art of living is to choose one's memories," he said lightly. "He who
has conquered his thoughts, has conquered a more wonderful country than
Grimland."
"I must again crave pardon—I had quite forgotten him," apologised
Saunders. "Your Highness, may I present my very good friend, Mr. George
Trafford of New York—the winner of the King's Cup."
The American bowed low before this exquisite creature; then uplifting
his head and shoulders and twirling his moustache—a habit he had when
his emotions were at all stirred—he asked with true American directness:
"Then I congratulate the high-born princess less on her high birth than
on her inimitable gift of song," said the American gallantly.
"Thank you, Herr Trafford," she said simply. "It is better to be a music-
hall star in the ascendant than a princess in exile—it is far more profitable,
isn't it?" No answer was expected, and in a trice her mood changed again.
"When I fled the country three years ago, Herr Trafford," she continued, "I
was penniless—my father dead, and his estates confiscated. True, an
allowance—a mere pittance—might have been mine had I returned and
bowed the knee to Karl." She stopped, her feelings seemingly too much for
her; in a moment, however, she had mastered them. "But I was a
Schattenberg!" she cried, with a little toss of her head. "And the
Schattenbergs—as Herr Saunders will testify—are a stiff-necked race.
There was nothing to be done," she went on, "but develop the gifts God had
given me. Under an humble nom de guerre I have achieved notoriety and a
large salary. Germany, France, Belgium, I have toured them all—and my
incognito has never been pierced. So when I got hold of a splendid song I
lost no time in hastening to Weidenbruck, for I knew it would go like
wildfire here."
"A most dangerous step." The comment came from the American, but
there was a light of frank admiration in his eye.
"Oh, no!" she protested, a faint touch of colour in her cheek, denoting
that his approving glance had not escaped her. "It is years since I was in this
place." And smiling at the Englishman, now, she added naïvely: "My
features are little likely to be recognised."
"I hope they will do more than that," confessed the Princess, growing
excited.
"You want——?"
"I want Grimland," interrupted the Princess; and added loftily: "nothing
more and nothing less. You will have me arrested?"
"Not yet!" declared Saunders with his brightest smile. "The night is cold
—your dressing-room is cosy. No, my fascinating, and revolutionary young
lady, the truce between us has been so long unbroken that I cannot rush into
hostilities in this way. Besides, we are not now in 1904, and——"
"Oh, for 1904!" cried the Princess, her eyes ablaze with the light of
enthusiasm. "Oh, for the sweets of popularity, the ecstasy of rousing brave
men and turning their blood to wine and their brains to fire! I want to live,
to rule, to be obeyed and loved as a queen!"
"No, but the police might take a hand," intimated Saunders grimly.
"There is a castle at Weidenbruck called the Strafeburg. As its name
implies, it is intended otherwise than as a pleasure residence. It is a
picturesque old pile, but, curiously enough, the architect seems to have
neglected the important requirements of light and air. You would get very
tired of the Strafeburg, my Princess!"
"The people of Paris got very tired of the Bastille," retorted the Princess
hotly and flashing a defiant look at the Englishman. Trafford's hand
clinched in sympathy for her. Never was maid so splendidly daring and
reckless and fascinating! "They got very tired of Louis XVI.," the voice was
still going on, "and the people of Weidenbruck are very tired of the
Strafeburg."
"They got tired of a good many people in Paris," the Englishman said
slowly. "Ultimately, even of Mére Guillotine. But supposing this country
rose, pulled down the Strafeburg and other interesting relics, and
decapitated my excellent friend, the King; supposing after much cutting of
throats, burning of buildings, and shootings against the wall, a certain
young lady became Gloria the First of Grimland, do you imagine she would
be happy? No—in twelve months she would be bored to death with court
etiquette, with conflicting advice, and the servile flattery of interested
intriguers. Believe me, she is far happier enchanting the audiences of
Belgium and Germany than she would be in velvet and ermine and a gold
crown that fell off every time she indulged in one of her irresponsible fits of
merriment."
"I might forget to laugh," said the Princess sadly. "But no, I cannot, will
not, take your advice! Do you not suppose that nature intended me to fill a
loftier position than even the high firmament of the Café Chantant? No, a
thousand times no, Herr Saunders—I am a Schattenberg and I mean to
fight!"
A swift frown clouded Saunders' brow. It was plain to see that the
Englishman was much annoyed at the American's outspoken approval of the
Princess's purpose; but she broke into the laughter of a mischief-loving
child.
"And you—are not you a friend of King Karl?" she inquired of Trafford,
while a new light shone in her eyes.
The Princess had not taken her eyes off of the American since he had
last spoken.
"He has energy," she mused, looking into space now, "also the capacity
for inspiring enthusiasm, and I am not at all sure that he has not the instinct
of a born tactician."
"Herr Saunders," she said, "I will ask you to see me home."
"Good loyal man!" exclaimed the Princess. "Plus royalist que le roi!"
And then turning to the American: "And Herr Trafford? He will not refuse
to perform a small act of courtesy?"
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