self, and then looked up from his desk and asked,
"But what will you do with this letter of pardon?"

"Let your gracious Highness leave that to me. Just you write--and
blessed be the pen and the ink and your hand--"

I implored her to remain quiet, so that the Prince could write, and she
grasped my hand with one of hers, and with her other pointed towards
the Prince's pen and moved her finger as if following its every stroke.

When the Prince bad finished writing, he lit a lamp, and Martella
exclaimed: "Oh, if Ernst were only here, that he might thank you! But
mother, who is above, knows of this already, and joins me in thanking
you."

Her vigor and beauty, her touching voice, the powerful and dazzling
brilliancy of her eyes, all seemed as if increased by an irresistible
charm.

The Prince attached the seal to the document and handed it to her with
the words, "I wish you success;" and, turning to me, added, "I am glad,
at all events, that I have been able to be of some service to you."

Martella was about to kneel to him again, but he begged her to
withdraw.

We went through the antechamber and down the steps, and, when we
reached the foot of the staircase, Martella suddenly stopped and said:
"I have something in which I can keep the letter of pardon. I still
have the embroidered satchel, but now I will put in it something better
and sweeter than the cake it once held."

When we left, the guard was just marching up to the palace, and the
band was playing "Die Wacht am Rhein." A crowd extending farther than
the eye could reach joined in the song, and Martella exclaimed, "The
whole world is singing while--" and then her clear voice helped to
swell the chorus.

No one was happier at Martella's good fortune than Annette, who, to
give vent to her joy, overwhelmed Martella with presents.

Richard rushed into the room, exclaiming, "The Crown-Prince of Prussia
has been appointed commander of the South German forces!" His face
beamed with emotion, and he triumphantly declared that this would seal
the union of North and South Germany.

Although the younger members of my family were full of ardent courage,
Richard had more determination and elasticity of spirit than any of
them. We had at one time mockingly called him "Old Negligence." But he
was no longer the man who procrastinated in all things, and who, while
conscientious withal, was nevertheless so swayed by a thousand
imaginary obstacles that it was difficult f