"Albert does not know it positively, your Highness, but he is almost sure of it; for ever since the count came back from N---- he has written to her very often, and seems entirely different from what he used to be,--much more cheerful and happy."
Ottilie compressed her lips, and involuntarily laid her hand upon her heart, as if she felt a sudden pang.
"Does anything hurt you, your Highness? Does the pin I put in there prick you?" asked Röschen, anxiously.
"Yes, take it out; it hurts me," said Ottilie, and thought, "Ah, if you only could!"
"Your Highness, your heart is beating violently! Your Highness is certainly suffering from that pain in the breast again! If you would only tell the doctor about it!"
"My good girl, he can do me no good." A short cough interrupted her, and she glanced smilingly at Röschen's troubled face. "Be calm, my child, people do not die of such things; and if I should, I shall leave you a legacy which will support you all your life."
"Your Highness!" exclaimed Röschen, with a deep blush, while the tears rushed into her eyes. "If your Highness thinks it is only for that,"--she could say no more.
"My dear Röschen, have I hurt your feelings? Indeed, I did not intend to do so. Then there is one heart that loves me for myself. God will reward you for it far better than I. Do not cry: give me my dress."
Röschen smiled through her tears, threw the dress over Ottilie's shoulders, knelt down, and pulled the folds straight. Then she gazed with childish admiration at her mistress's tall, stately figure. "Ah, how beautiful your Highness looks now! I cannot imagine that any one can be handsomer or more noble. Your Highness is so--what shall I call it?--such a holy apparition."
Ottilie smiled involuntarily. "Oh, how delighted your Highness's proud husband will be when he sees he has obtained such a beautiful wife!"