gst us all who did not commit a
single mistake during the war!"

Seven years had passed since Prince Henry had seen his young wife,
Princess Wilhelmina. He could at last return to her--to his beloved
Rheinsberg, and find rest after his many years of wandering. He had
written to the princess, and requested her not to meet him in Berlin,
but to find some pretext for remaining at Rheinsberg. His proud soul
could not endure the thought that the woman he loved, who appeared to
him fit to grace the first throne of the world, would occupy an inferior
position at court--would have to stand behind the queen. He had never
envied the king his crown or his position, but his heart now craved the
crown of the queen, for the brow of his own beautiful wife, who
seemed much better fitted to wear it than the gentle, timid Elizabeth
Christine. Princess Wilhelmina had therefore remained at Rheinsberg,
feigning sickness.

It was night! The castle of Rheinsberg glittered with the light of the
torches by which the gates were adorned, to welcome the prince to his
home. The saloons and halls were brilliantly lighted, and in them a gay,
merry crowd was assembled. All the prince's friends and acquaintances
had been invited by Princess Wilhelmina to greet his return.

Every thing in the castle bore the appearance of happiness--all seemed
gay and cheerful. But still, there was one whose heart was beating
anxiously at the thought of the approaching hour--it was the Princess
Wilhelmina. She was gorgeously dressed; diamonds glittered on her brow
and throat, bright roses gleamed upon her breast, and a smile was on her
full, red lips. No one knew the agony this smile cost her! No one knew
that the red which burned upon her cheek was caused, not by joy, but
terror!

Yes, terror! She was afraid of this meeting, in which she was to
receive the prince as her loved husband, while, during the long years of
absence, he had become a perfect stranger to her. Not even bound to him
by the daily occurrences of life, she had no sympathies with the husband
who had been forced upon her, and who had once contemptuously put aside
the timid heart that was then prepared to love him. This stranger she
was now to meet with every sign of love, because he had one day waked up
to the conviction that the heart he had once spurned was worthy of
him. It was her duty now to return this love--to consecrate the rich
treasures of her heart to him who had once scorned them. Her so