"Many thanks!" cried the Electoral Prince, laughing. "But I am no friend of warm milk, and understand nothing whatever of farming."
"Well, why should you?" said the Princess gravely. "You are a man, and men have something else to do; they must go to war and govern countries. But women must understand management and know how to keep house."
"So? Must they that?" laughed the Prince. "Common women, indeed, but you,
Louisa, you are a Princess."
"But a Princess of Holland, cousin, and my mother has told me that the Princesses of Holland must seek their greatest renown in becoming wise and prudent housewives, and understanding farming thoroughly, in order that all the rest of the women of Holland may learn from them. My mother says that a Prince of Holland should be the first servant of the Sovereign States, but a Princess of Holland should be the first housekeeper of the Dutch people, and the more skillful she is the more will the people love her. And therefore I shall try to be right skillful, for I shall be so glad if our good people would love me a little."
"Would you, indeed?" asked the Electoral Prince, quite moved by the lovely countenance and the heartfelt tone of the little girl. "Would you be glad if the people loved you a little? Well, I promise you, Cousin Louisa Henrietta, they will love you, and whoever shall look into your good, truthful eyes will feel himself fortunate and glad, just as I do now. Keep your beautiful eyes, Louisa, and your innocence and harmlessness, and be a good housewife, then your people will love you very much. But tell me, cousin, for whom is that wreath which is hanging on your arm?"
"For my beautiful cow; but if you will have it I will give it to you, and—no," she broke off, abashed and reddening, "no, forgive me, dear Cousin Frederick William; I shall not give you a wreath which I destined only for an animal. I shall fix it so," she cried, with a lovely smile, "I shall take this wreath to my Hulda, and to you, cousin, I shall give my own wreath."
She hastily tore the wreath from her own locks, and raising herself on tiptoe tried with uplifted arm to place it on the Prince's head, but he stayed her hand.
"No, cousin," he said; "that must be done properly. You are a lady, a Princess, and if you crown a knight, then let him bow the knee before you."
And he bent his knee before her, and looked up at her smilingly and joyously. "Crown me, Cousin Louisa Henrietta," he said, with ceremonial pathos—"crown me and give me a device."
The little maiden held the crown thoughtfully in her hand, her large blue eyes fixed upon the smiling countenance before her with an earnest, meditative expression.