“That being the case, your royal highness should now think a little of your own happiness.  You should seek to be reconciled to your fate—­to yield to that which is unalterable.  The king, the royal family, yes, the whole land will rejoice if this marriage with the King of Denmark takes place.  Oh, princess, be wise! do willingly, peacefully, What you will otherwise be forced to do!  Consent to be Queen of Denmark.”

“You have never loved, Ernestine, and you do not know that it is a crime to break a holy oath sworn unto God.  But let us be silent.  I know what is before me—­I am prepared!”

With calm indifference, Amelia completed her toilet; then stepped to the large Psyche, which stood in her boudoir, and examined herself with a searching eye.

“I think there is nothing in my appearance to enrage the king.  I have laid rouge heavily upon my cheeks, and, thanks to Meckel’s prescription, my eyes are as brilliant as if they had shed no tears.  If I meet my brother with this friendly, happy smile, he will not remark that my cheeks are sunken.  He will be content with me, and perhaps listen to my prayers.”

Ernestine regarded her with a sad and troubled glance.  “You look pale, princess, in spite of your rouge, and your laugh lacerates the heart.  There is a tone, a ring in it, like a broken harp-string.”

“Still,” said Amelia, “still, Ernestine! my hour has come!  I go to the king.  Look, the hand of the clock points to twelve, and I ask an audience of the king at this hour.  Farewell, Ernestine!  Ernestine, pray for me.”

She wrapped herself in her mantle, and stepped slowly and proudly through the corridors to the wing of the castle occupied by the king.  Frederick received her in his library.  He advanced to the door to meet her, and with a kindly smile extended both his hands.

“Welcome, Amelia, a thousand times welcome!  Your coming proves to me that your heart has found the strength which I expected; that my sweet sister has recovered herself, her maidenly pride, fully.

“The proud daughter of the Hohenzollerns is here to say to the king--’The King of Denmark demands my hand.  I will bestow it upon him.  My father’s daughter dare not wed beneath her.  She must look onward and upward.  There is no myrtle-wreath for me, but a crown is glittering, and I accept it.  God has made both heart and brain strong enough to bear its weight.  I shall be no happy shepherdess, but I shall be a great and good queen; I will make others happy.’”

“You have come, Amelia, to say this to the king; but you have also come to say to your brother—­’I am ready to fulfil your wishes.  I know that no selfish views, no ambitious plans influence you.  I know that you think only of my prosperity and my happiness; that you would save me from misfortune, humiliation, and shame; that you would guard me from the mistakes and weaknesses of my own heart, I accede to your wish, my brother—­I will be queen of Denmark?’ Now, Amelia,” said Frederick, with an agitated voice, “have I not rightly divined?  Have you not sought me for this purpose?”