“Ah! your highness is pleased to think better of my fatherland,” said Tessin, bowing low to Ulrica.  “It is true, Sweden is rich in beauty, and nowhere is nature more romantic or more lovely.  The Swedes love their country passionately, and, like the Swiss, they die of homesickness when banished from her borders.  They languish and pine away if one is cruel enough to think lightly of their birth-place.”

“Well, sir, I commit this cruelty,” cried Amelia, “and yet I scarcely think you will languish and pine away on that account.”

“Dear sister, I think you are out of temper to-day,” said Ulrica, softly.

“And you are wise to remind me of it in this courtly style,” said Amelia; “have you taken the role of governess for my benefit to-day?”

Ulrica shrugged her shoulders and turned again to the count, who was watching the young Amelia with a mixture of astonishment and anger.  She had been represented at the Swedish court as a model of gentleness, amiability, and grace; he found her rude and contradictory, fitful and childish.  The Princess Ulrica soon led the thoughts of the count in another direction, and managed to retain him at her side by her piquant and intellectual conversation; she brought every power of her mind into action; she was gracious in the extreme; she overcame her proud nature, and assumed a winning gentleness; in short, she flattered the ambassador with such delicate refinement, that he swallowed the magical food offered to his vanity, without suspecting that he was victimized.

Neither the princess nor the count seemed any longer to remember Amelia, who still stood near them with a lowering visage.  Pollnitz made use of this opportunity to draw near with his young protege, Frederick von Trenck, and present him to the princess, who immediately assumed a gay and laughing expression; she wished to give the ambassador a new proof of her stormy and fitful nature:  she would humble him by proving that she was not harsh and rude to all the world.  She received the two gentlemen, therefore, with great cordiality, and laughed heartily over the adventure of the morning; she recounted to them, merrily and wittily, how and why she had thrown the sweet roses away.  Amelia was now so lovely and so spirited to look upon, so radiant with youth, animation, and innocence, that the eyes of the poor young officer were dazzled and sought the floor; completely intoxicated and bewildered, he could not join in the conversation, uttering here and there only a trembling monosyllable.

This did not escape the cunning eye of the master of ceremonies.  “I must withdraw,” thought he; “I will grant them a first tete-a-tete.  I will observe them from a distance, and be able to decide if my plan will succeed.”  Excusing himself upon the plea of duty, Pollnitz withdrew; he glided into a window and concealed himself behind the curtains, in order to watch the countenances of his two victims.  Pollnitz had rightly judged.  The necessity of taking part in the conversation with the princess restored to the young officer his intellect and his courage, and, in the effort to overcome his timidity, he became too earnest, too impassioned.