One morning they were to go to see a chapel the King had expressed an interest in.
"I will stay with George," said the Queen, who complained of not feeling well, and so they left her with her brother.
When her father returned he found on his writing desk a note written in French, by his daughter, the Queen.
"My dear father," he read, "I am very happy to-day as your daughter and as the wife of the best of husbands.
"Louisa.
"New Strelitz, July 28, 1810."
At once he showed it, to the King, and the two men were silent with happiness. But little did they think that never again was the woman who so loved them to touch paper or pen.
She had not been well, but nothing had been thought of it. And now, in the early summer morning, the King was hastening to her.
"Faster!" he called. "Faster!"
She had told him good-bye with a smile and the hope of soon seeing him, and he had returned to Berlin.
There had come despatch after despatch.
"The Queen is ill. She grows worse. Come! Come!"