“Cousin Frederick William,” she asked merrily, “where do you come from, and why do you scream so fearfully?”

“Have I frightened you, Cousin Louisa Henrietta?” he asked, extending both hands to her in greeting.

“Not me, cousin, but Hulda,” she returned, holding out her little hands.  “You must know, cousin, Hulda is very scary, and it comes from her being sad.”

“Who is Hulda?  The smart dairymaid there?”

“Hey, God forbid, cousin!  How can you think that dairymaid could be scared?  No, Hulda is my pretty white cow, and she is sad because she has lost her little calf.  I am not to blame for it, and I told my poor Hulda that, too, and as she lowed so piteously I wept with her heartily and comforted her.”

“But why did you let them take away her little calf?  Why did you suffer it?  Is it not your own cow?”

“Understand, it is my own cow,” replied the little girl, seriously.  “My good aunt, the Electress, has made me a present of it, that I may have some pleasure when I come here to Doornward, and it makes me feel as if I were at home.  For you must know, cousin, that I have a regular dairy at The Hague.”

“No, cousin, I did not know it,” said the Electoral Prince, while he looked kindly into the lovely, rosy countenance of the little Princess Louisa Henrietta of Orange.

“You do not know that?” she cried, clapping her little hands together in astonishment.  “Yes, I have a dairy—­three cows, who belong to myself alone, and for which papa has had built a stable of their own, which is very grand and splendid.  And next to the stable is a room for the milk and butter.  O cousin!  I tell you, it is splendid!  The next time you come to us at The Hague, send for me, and I will show you my cows in their stable, and if you are right good, you shall have a glass of milk from my favorite cow.”

“Many thanks!” cried the Electoral Prince, laughing.  “But I am no friend of warm milk, and understand nothing whatever of farming.”

“Well, why should you?” said the Princess gravely.  “You are a man, and men have something else to do; they must go to war and govern countries.  But women must understand management and know how to keep house.”

“So?  Must they that?” laughed the Prince.  “Common women, indeed, but you, Louisa, you are a Princess.”

“But a Princess of Holland, cousin, and my mother has told me that the Princesses of Holland must seek their greatest renown in becoming wise and prudent housewives, and understanding farming thoroughly, in order that all the rest of the women of Holland may learn from them.  My mother says that a Prince of Holland should be the first servant of the Sovereign States, but a Princess of Holland should be the first housekeeper of the Dutch people, and the more skillful she is the more will the people love her.  And therefore I shall try to be right skillful, for I shall be so glad if our good people would love me a little.”