tered. Then he crossed over to the opposite end of the
apartment himself and opened the door of the inner room.

XI.--MEETING AND PARTING.

"Be kind enough to come in, dear sister," said the Elector, standing in
the doorway and smilingly greeting the Princess, who now entered the
apartment.

"I have come at your bidding, Frederick," said the Princess, accepting her
brother's proffered hand, and looking up at him with a sweet, affectionate
smile.

In the window niche stood John Adolphus Schwarzenberg, and the fires of
passion and resentment burned in the glance which he fixed upon the
Princess, whom he now saw for the first time after a lapse of three years.
How much pain and mortification had he not suffered during these three
years on her account? The only change wrought in the Princess by the
flight of time was a more perfect development of beauty and of grace of
carriage. The count heaved a deep, painful sigh, and the rage of despair
took possession of his soul at the sight of that noble, tranquil
countenance.

"She has not suffered," he said to himself. "She never loved me, and will
now despise me!"

"Forgive me, sister, for troubling you to come to me," said Frederick
William, nodding affectionately to the Princess. "I ought indeed to have
come to you, but I wished to speak with you on a matter strictly
confidential, which I did not wish our mother and sister to know anything
about."

"Is it really a secret, then?" asked Charlotte Louise--"no bad secret, I
hope, Frederick?"

"It at least touches very grave matters," replied the Elector. "Look
yonder at that window niche."

The Princess turned quickly, and looked in the direction indicated. A low
scream escaped her lips, and she sank trembling upon a seat.

"Adolphus!" murmured her quivering lips.

This single utterance spoke more eloquently to both men than the most
elaborate arrangement of sentences could have done. It told them that
years of separation had not estranged the Princess from Count
Schwarzenberg; that her heart still called him by the familiar name
accorded him by love; that with the count, Charlotte Louise was not the
proud Princess, but only the humble, loving maiden. The Elector understood
this, and a cloud overshadowed his brow.

The count understood it, too, and his dark countenance brightened. With
uplifted head he rushed from the window niche to the Princess, and,
kneeling before her, seized her hand to press it to his l