“As for ourselves, however, dearest, we will remember the words of your great uncle,” said the queen, “and when they overwhelm us on all sides with their vain and ridiculous demands, we will remain firm and true to ourselves.”
“Yes, Louisa,” said the king, gravely, “and whatever our new life may have in store for us, we will remain the same as before.”
Another rap at the door was heard, and a royal footman entered.
“Lieutenant-Colonel von Kockeritz, your majesty, requests an audience.”
“Ah, yes, it is time,” said the king, looking at the clock on the mantel-piece. “I sent him word to call on me at this hour. Farewell, Louisa, I must not let him wait.”
He bowed to his wife, whose hand he tenderly pressed to his lips, and turned to the door.
The footman who had meantime stood at the door as straight as an arrow, waiting for the king’s reply, now hastened to open both folding-doors.
“What!” asked the king, with a deprecating smile, “have I suddenly grown so much stouter that I can no longer pass out through one door?” [Footnote: Ibid., p. 19]
The queen’s eyes followed her husband’s tall and commanding figure with a proud smile, and then raising her beautiful, radiant eyes with an indescribable expression to heaven, she whispered: “Oh, what a man I my husband!” [Footnote: “O, welch em Mann! mem Mann!”—Eylert, vol. ii., p. 107]