The queen closed the door. She wished to hear nothing that passed between Elizabeth and Laura; she needed rest, in order to receive the king with composure.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE MISUNDERSTANDING.
The young queen, the reigning queen, as she was called, was now alone with Laura von Pannewitz. She was for a moment speechless; strange, tempestuous feelings burned in the bosom of this gentle woman; she felt all the torments of rage and jealousy, and the humiliation of unrequited love.
Leaning against the wall, she looked frowningly at Laura, who was kneeling before her, wringing her hands and weeping piteously. How could a woman weep who could call that happiness her own—to possess which Elizabeth would cheerfully give years of her life? She had at last found the rival for whom she was despised; the destroyer of her happiness; the envied woman loved by Frederick!
As she saw this woman bathed in tears at her feet, an exulting joy for one moment filled her heart. But this violent emotion soon disappeared. Elizabeth was too true and noble a woman to give herself up long to such resentment. She felt, indeed, a melancholy pleasure in knowing that it was not coldness of heart, but love for another, which estranged the king from her; in the midst of her wild grief she was still just; and she acknowledged that this woman, whom the king loved, was more charming and more beautiful than herself.
The love Elizabeth bore her husband was so unselfish, so resigned, so magnanimous, that she felt grateful to the woman who could impart a happiness to the king it had never been in her power to bestow.
With a truly noble expression she approached the maid of honor, who, unconscious of the queen's presence, was still lying on the floor and weeping bitterly.
"Arise, Laura," said Elizabeth, gently. "How can a woman loved by the king be sad, or shed tears?"