“I read it in your face, Ernestine, but I entreat you do not make it known in words unless my knowledge of the facts would diminish my danger.”

Ernestine shook her head sadly.  “No,” said she, “your royal highness has no power over the misfortune that threatens you.  You are a princess, and must be obedient to the will of the king.”

“Good!” said Amelia, “we will see if my brother has power to subdue my will.  Now, Ernestine, leave me; I am expecting the king.”

Scarcely had her maid withdrawn, when the door of the anteroom was opened, and the king was announced.  The princess advanced to meet him smilingly, but, as the king embraced her and pressed a kiss upon her brow, she shuddered and looked up at him searchingly.  She read nothing in his face but the most heart-felt kindliness and love.

“If he makes me miserable, it is at least not his intention to do so,” thought she.—­“Now, my brother, we are alone,” said the princess, taking a place near the king upon the divan.  “And now allow me to make known my request at once—­remember you have promised to grant it.”

The king looked with a piercing glance at the sweet face now trembling with excitement and impatience.  “Amelia,” said he, “have you no tender word of greeting, of warm home-love to say to me?  Do you not know that five years have passed since we have seen each other alone, and enjoyed that loving and confidential intercourse which becomes brothers and sisters?”

“I know,” said Amelia sadly, “these five years are written on my countenance, and if they have not left wrinkles on my brow, they have pierced my heart with many sorrows, and left their shadows there!  Look at me, my brother—­am I the same sister Amelia?”

“No,” said the king, “no!  You are pallid—­your cheeks are hollow.  But it is strange—­I see this now for the first time.  You have been an image of youth, beauty, and grace up to this hour.  The fatigue of yesterday has exhausted you—­that is all.”

“No, my brother, you find me pallid and hollow-eyed today, because you see me without rouge.  I have to-day for the first time laid aside the mask of rosy youth, and the smiling indifference of manner with which I conceal my face and my heart from the world.  You shall see me to-day as I really am; you shall know what I have suffered.  Perhaps then you will be more willing to fulfil my request?  Listen, my brother, I—­”

The king laid his hand softly upon her shoulder.  “Stop, Amelia; since I look upon you, I fear you will ask me something not in my power to grant.”

“You have given me your promise, sire.”

“I will not withdraw it; but I ask you to hear my prayer before you speak.  Perhaps it may exert an influence—­may modify your request.  I allow myself, therefore, in consideration of your own interest, solely to beg that I may speak first.”

“You are king, sire, and have only to command,” said Amelia, coldly.