I was about six years of age and as delighted as only one can be at six years of age.  I had already indulged in many quiet fancies about the shadows which I had seen evenings through the lighted windows, and had heard many good things at home of the beneficence of the Prince and Princess; how gracious they were; how much help and consolation they brought to the poor and sick; and that they had been chosen by the grace of God to protect the good and punish the bad.  I had long pictured to myself what transpired in the castle, so that the Prince and Princess were already old acquaintances whom I knew as well as my nut-crackers and leaden soldiers.

My heart beat quickly as I ascended the high stairs with my father, and just as he was telling me I must call the Princess “Highness,” and the Prince “Serene Highness,” the folding-door opened and I saw before me a tall figure with brilliantly piercing eyes.  She seemed to advance and stretch out her hand to me.  There was an expression on her countenance which I had long known, and a heavenly smile played about her cheeks.  I could restrain myself no longer, and while my father stood at the door bowing very low—­I knew not why—­my heart sprang into my throat.  I ran to the beautiful lady, threw my arms round her neck and kissed her as I would my mother.  The beautiful, majestic lady willingly submitted, stroked my hair and smiled; but my father took my hand, led me away, and said I was very rude, and that he should never take me there again.  I grew utterly bewildered.  The blood mounted to my cheeks, for I felt that my father had been unjust to me.  I looked at the Princess as if she ought to shield me, but upon her face was only an expression of mild earnestness.  Then I looked round upon the ladies and gentlemen assembled in the room, believing that they would come to my defense.  But as I looked, I saw that they were laughing.  Then the tears sprang into my eyes, and out of the door, down the stairs, and past the lindens in the castle yard, I rushed home, where I threw myself into my mother’s arms and sobbed and wept.

“What has happened to you?” said she.

“Oh! mother!” I cried; “I was at the Princess’, and she was such a good and beautiful woman, just like you, dear mother, that I had to throw my arms round her neck and kiss her.”

“Ah!” said my mother; “you should not have done that, for they are strangers and high dignitaries.”

“And what then are strangers?” said I.

“May I not love all people who look upon me with affectionate and friendly eyes?”

“You can love them, my son,” replied my mother, “but you should not show it.”

“Is it then something wrong for me to love people?” said I.  “Why cannot I show it?”

“Well, perhaps you are right,” said she, “but you must do as your father says, and when you are older you will understand why you cannot embrace every woman who regards you with affectionate and friendly eyes.”