"It must require," said I, "the most perfect tact to observe
those nice differences."

"My dear boy, the more I see of the princess, the more I
congratulate myself on my first impression. Since she has been
here the number of charitable acts she has done is incredible,
and that with a reflection and a judgment that in a person of
her age quite surprises me. Judge yourself. At her request the
grand duke has founded at Gerolstein an establishment for
orphans of five or six years, and for young girls (who are
either orphans or abandoned by their parents) of the age of
sixteen, that age so fatal to those who are not protected
against the temptations of vice or the pressure of want.

"The good sisters of my convent teach and direct the children of
this asylum. During my visits there I have had ample
opportunities of judging of the adoration that these poor,
unfortunate creatures have for the princess. Every day she
spends several hours at this place, which is placed under her
protection, and I repeat that it is not merely gratitude and
respect that the children and nuns feel towards the princess, it
almost amounts to fanaticism."

"The princess must be an angel," said I to my aunt.

"An angel, indeed!" replied she, "for you cannot conceive with
what touching kindness she treats her young protegees. I have
never seen the susceptibility of misfortune meet with more
delicate sympathy. You would think some irresistible attraction
drew the princess towards this class of unfortunates. Will you
believe it? she, the daughter of a sovereign, only addresses
these poor children as 'my sisters!'"

At these last words of my aunt I confess I felt my eyes fill
with tears. Do you not also admire the admirable and pious
conduct of this young princess?

"Since the princess," said I, "is so marvellously gifted, I
shall be greatly embarrassed when I am presented to her
to-morrow. You know how timid I am; you know, also, that
elevation of character imposes upon me more than high birth, so
that I am certain to appear both stupid and embarrassed
to-morrow; so I make up my mind to that beforehand."

"Come, come!" said my aunt, smiling, "she will take pity upon
you, the more readily as you are not quite a stranger to her."

"I am not a stranger to her, aunt?"

"Certainly no