“I have not, then, been deceived.” she cried; “it is not a fairy tale to which I have listened.  You come from the chapel?”

“I come from the chapel? yes,” said Ulrica, meeting the angry glance of her sister with a firm and steady look.  Resolved to breast the coming storm with proud composure, she folded her arms across her bosom, as if she would protect herself from Amelia’s flashing eyes.  “I come from the chapel—­what further?”

“What further?” cried Amelia, stamping fiercely on the floor.  “Ah, you will play the harmless and the innocent!  What took you to the chapel?”

Ulrica looked up steadily and smilingly; then said, in a quiet and indifferent tone:  “I have taken the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, according to the Lutheran form of worship.”

Amelia shuddered as if she felt the sting of a poisonous serpent.  “That signifies that you are an apostate; that signifies that you have shamefully outwitted and betrayed me; that means—­”

“That signifies,” said Ulrica, interrupting her, “that I am a less pious Christian than you are; that you, my noble young sister, are a more innocent and unselfish maiden than the Princess Ulrica.”

“Words, words! base, hypocritical words!” cried Amelia.  “You first inspired me with the thought which led to my childish and contradictory behavior, and which for some days made me the jest of the court.  You are a false friend, a faithless sister!  I stood in your path, and you put me aside.  I understand now your perfidious counsels, your smooth, deceitful encouragement to my opposition against the proposition of the Swedish ambassador.  I, forsooth, must be childish, coarse, and rude, in order that your gentle and girlish grace, your amiable courtesy, might shine with added lustre.  I was your foil, which made the jewel of your beauty resplendent.  Oh! it is shameful to be so misused, so outwitted by my sister!”

With streaming eyes, Amelia sank upon a chair, and hid her face with her trembling little hands.

“Foolish child!” said Ulrica, “you accuse me fiercely, but you know that you came to me and implored me to find a means whereby you would be relieved from this hateful marriage with the Prince Royal of Sweden.”

“You should have reasoned with me, you should have encouraged me to give up my foolish opposition.  You should have reminded me that I was a princess, and therefore condemned to have no heart.”

“You said nothing to me of your heart; you spoke only of your religion.  Had you told me that your heart rebelled against this marriage with the Crown Prince of Sweden, then, upon my knees, with all the strength of a sister’s love, I would have implored you to accept his hand, to shroud your heart in your robe of purple, and take refuge on your throne from the danger which threatens a young princess if she allows her heart to speak.”

Amelia let her hands fall from her face, and looked up at her sister, whose great earnest eyes were fixed upon her with an expression of triumph and derision.