to her lover, she stretched out her hands to
him, saying:

"I wish there was a cottage, and that you worked for bread, while I
made ready for you at the cottage, and then ran far, far, far, down
the road to watch and wait for your coming."

"Since a cottage was not too small, a palace will not be too large,"
said he, catching her in his arms.

Thus the heart of Princess Osra found its haven and its rest; for a
month later she was married to the Grand Duke of Mittenheim in the
cathedral of Strelsau, having utterly refused to take any other place
for her wedding. And again she and he rode forth together through the
western gate; and the king rode with them on their way till they came
to the woods. Here he paused, and all the crowd that accompanied him
stopped also; and they all waited till the sombre depths of the glades
hid Osra and her lover from their sight. Then, leaving them thus
riding together to their happiness, the people returned home, sad for
the loss of their darling princess. But, for consolation, and that
their minds might less feel her loss, they had her name often on their
lips; and the poets and story-tellers composed many stories about
her, not always grounded on fact, but the fabric of idle imaginings,
wrought to please the fancy of lovers or to wake the memories of older
folk. So that, if a stranger goes now to Strelsau, he may be pardoned
if it seem to him that all mankind was in love with Princess Osra.
Nay, and those stories so pass all fair bounds that, if you listened
to them, you would come near to believing that the princess also had
found some love for all the men who had given her their love. Thus to
many she is less a woman that once lived and breathed than some sweet
image under whose name they fondly group all the virtues and the
charms of her whom they love best, each man fashioning for himself
from his own chosen model her whom he calls his princess. Yet it
may be that for some of them who so truly loved her, her heart had a
moment's tenderness. Who shall tell all the short-lived dreams that
come and go, the promptings and stirrings of a vagrant inclination?
And who would pry too closely into these secret matters? May we not
more properly give thanks to heaven that the thing is as it is? For
surely it makes greatly for the increase of joy and entertainment
in the world, and of courtesy and true tenderness, that the heart of
Princess Osra--or of what lady you may choose, sir, to call by