The king offered the sheet to the queen and said: "What will you write?"
"I can't write when any one is present," replied the queen. "I can't write a word now; I shall send her a separate letter."
An almost imperceptible expression of displeasure passed over the king's countenance, but he subdued it.
"As you please," said he courteously, although, at heart, angry at this everlasting sentimentalism.
The courtiers and ladies all wrote, each adding a few lines of a light, jesting character.
Countess Brinkenstein, however, had slipped away.
Amid jests and laughter, the whole sheet was at last filled, and then the king said:
"The chief one is still missing. Walpurga must also write to the countess, for the voice of the people has most influence with her. Send Walpurga here."
Baum was at once sent to bring Walpurga. On the way, he explained to her what was going on. Walpurga was not shy, in the midst of the assembled court.
"Would you rather be alone in your room while you write?" asked the king, betraying his vexation, in spite of himself.