"Yes," murmured Sophia Dorothea to herself, "I am queen-mother, but I will never be queen-regent. Ah, my children," cried she, passionately, "the king, your brother, was right. Princes are not born to be happy. He is not so, and you will never be!"
CHAPTER V.
THE QUEEN'S TAILOR.
A dreary silence had reigned for some time in the usually gay and happy family circle of the worthy court tailor. No one dared to speak or laugh aloud. M. Pricker, the crown and head of the house, was sad and anxious, and the storm-cloud upon his brow threw a dark reflection upon the faces of his wife and two children, the beautiful Anna, and the active, merry Wilhelm, Even the assistants in the work-room were affected by the general gloom; the gay songs of the apprentices were silenced, and the pretty house-maids looked discontented and dull.
A tempest lowered over the house, and all appeared to tremble at its approach. When Wilhelm, the son and heir of the house, returned from his work, he hastened to his mother's room, and casting a curious glance upon the old woman, who was seated on a sofa, grim-looking, and supporting her head upon her hand, he said, mysteriously—
"Not yet!"
Mother Pricker shook her head, sighed deeply, and replied:
"Not yet!"
The beautiful Anna was generally in her elegant room, painting or singing, and did not allow herself to be disturbed; but now when the bell rang, or a strange step was heard, she hastened to her mother, and said: