"Who are you, dear lady?" asked Katharine, holding out her hand in welcome.
The stranger answered wearily: "My husband sits upon a throne, and wears an Elector's crown; but I have not where to lay my head."
Katharine started: "Merciful God! You are the unhappy wife of the Elector of Brandenburg!"
"Does my presence alarm you?" she asked, with the suspicious sensitiveness peculiar to the unfortunate. "Then I will go,—although it is with a heavy heart I relinquish the hope of finding peace under the great reformer's roof. For the Gospel's sake my lord's anger pursues me; and because I venerate Dr. Martin's doctrine as being the Word of God, the Elector has threatened to immure me."
Katharine's heart beat high, and she would have folded the unfortunate woman in her arms, but the inborn reverence for the wife of a crowned head restrained her. She grasped the hand of the princess, saying warmly: "This house is open to all who are weary and heavy laden, but especially to those who suffer for the Gospel's sake."
A gleam of joy brightened the unhappy woman's face, and with difficulty restraining her tears, she answered: "May He bless you for those words, who said: 'Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.'"
Katharine, after taking a hasty leave of Master Rhegius, led her guest to a quiet room, overlooking the garden. The noble lady's gracious bearing soon overcame Katharine's timidity, and they conversed together as old friends.
Katharine then learned the truth of the story which rumor had spread abroad, and mingled with many falsehoods. The Electress had incurred the anger of her papist husband by her adherence to the evangelical faith, and especially by a secret celebration of the Lord's Supper in both kinds, which was betrayed to him, and roused in him a fury of passion. He swore in his anger, that neither sun nor moon should again shine upon the heretic. To save her husband from committing a crime, she fled to Torgau, seeking refuge with the Elector of Saxony. He assigned to her the castle of Lichtenburg on the Elbe, and she accepted his kindness with gratitude. But in time the isolation and the lack of all spiritual nourishment caused her inner life to wither and pine. She had therefore come secretly to Wittenberg, to be near the fountain of living water, where her soul might find strength and repose.
Katharine expressed her regret at her husband's absence, and begged the Electress to content herself in her company, until the Doctor's return.
Deeply moved, the princess fell upon Katharine's neck, and this silent embrace was the beginning of a warm and lasting friendship. Two hearts were brought near to each other, which, however different their outward circumstances, yet were one in their aspirations after the one thing needful. Katharine soon discovered that fame had not exaggerated the gentleness, nobility and piety of the Electress of Brandenburg; while the latter found herself irresistibly attracted by the strong, upright, loving nature, by the childlike simplicity and tender heart of Mistress Luther. With unconcealed pleasure she watched Katharine, as with energetic discipline, with a clear eye and a firm hand she guided and ruled her extensive establishment. She was fond of helping here and there, and especially glad to occupy herself with the children. Good Aunt Lena stepped into the background without a murmur, and felt no pang of jealousy, when the thankless Hans in his admiration of the new "Aunt Elizabeth" could at times forget all the love and care that had been lavished upon him.