s regal form, and his constant and earnest love
transported her with gratitude. As she looked toward the king, who was
leaving the room with the duke, in order to look at the old palace
church,--"Oh, George," she said to the hereditary prince, who had
remained with his sister in the duke's sitting-room, "now I am
altogether happy! I would like to repeat it to all of you!" And, as if
these words were not sufficient, as if she ought to write them down--the
queen hastened to her father's desk. She took a scrap of paper and a
pen, and wrote in a hasty hand: "My dear father! I am very happy to-day
as your daughter, and as the wife of the best of husbands. Louisa."[56]
"So," she exclaimed, "I have written it down. My father will not find it
to-day, for we shall immediately set out for Hohenzieritz; but when he
returns the day after to-morrow, and steps to his desk, he will find
this greeting from his Louisa, and it will gladden him, and--"

[Footnote 56: These were the last words the queen ever wrote. The king
preserved the scrap as a sacred relic, and carried it constantly in his
memorandum-book.]

"Why do you start so suddenly, my sister? Your lips are quivering, and
you look so pale! What ails you, dear sister?"

"It is nothing, brother--it is nothing! An insignificant passing pain in
my heart; it was sudden, but it is nothing, it is over now. And if you
love me, George, you will forget it. You will not mention it to any one,
and, least of all, to my husband. They are already returning, our dear
ones! Let us meet them!"

They went from Neustrelitz to Hohenzieritz, the charming country-seat of
the duke on the shore of Lake Tollen. The carriages halted in front of
the palace-gate; Louisa, leaning on the king's arm, entered; suddenly a
shudder shook her frame; a mortal pallor covered her cheeks, and she
clung convulsively to her husband.

"What ails you, Louisa? Why do you look so ill, and tremble so
violently? What is the matter?"

"I am quite well, my beloved friend, but I am cold, and the air here
seems close and oppressive to me; and it is as silent and lonely as if
death were dwelling here. Come, let us go into the garden. Come!" She
hastened into the life and sunshine of the garden. The color came to her
cheeks again, and her eyes assumed their serenity. She walked with her
husband through the long, delightful avenues, and accompanied him to the
lake. It lay before them, beautiful Lake Tollen, shining like silver,