She rose and saw that a bar of light was bordering the horizon. Her glance fell upon the mirror and showed her a face so pale, so tear-stained, that she was almost startled at the sight of her own image. She gasped for breath, and, utterly exhausted, at last threw herself upon her bed and fell asleep. When she awoke the sun was already high in the heavens. The deep slumber had strengthened her, and she rose with a feeling of new life. With the light of day more calmness and clearness of judgment had returned. She collected the last remnant of her strength, and felt ashamed of her weakness. "Be a princess, be proud, Ottilie! Worthily fill the place for which God has appointed you. Pay the debt you owe him for the gifts he has bestowed, and which you have held at so cheap a rate because they were valueless to one. Perceive that it is the call of God that rouses you from this selfish melancholy. Obey it, fulfill your destiny like all other created beings; and if your strength fails, what can befall you worse than the death for which you are always longing? Life will never be so dear to you that you cannot hail it as a last blessing. My Lord and God, I lay my broken heart, my hopes, my wishes at thy feet, and make but one prayer,--grant that, in return for all my sacrifices, I may not be denied the joy of fulfilling my task and making others truly happy." She stood erect, as if surrounded by a halo of self-abnegation, when Röschen suddenly begged permission to enter. "I most humbly pray your Highness's pardon for having come without being summoned," said the young girl, "but the chamberlain has just brought your Highness the news that Prince Edward was thrown from his horse this morning and so dangerously injured that he cannot appear at the wedding as proxy." "What? Oh, God! is it possible?" exclaimed Ottilie. "Will your Highness deign to receive the chamberlain's news in person?" "No, no! But ask him whether the marriage will be deferred, or if some one else will take the place of the prince." Röschen withdrew, and came back with the reply that the wedding would, in all probability, be deferred. Count Ottmar had already sent a telegram to N----, and they were now awaiting an answer. Ottilie seemed to be animated with new life. A delay,--a respite,--although only a short one, enabled her to breathe more freely. "Dress me, Röschen, and then send for Countess Carlstein. I will drive for an hour; I need the sun and air. Ah, Röschen," she continued, as the young girl was arranging her toilet, "how will you feel in a foreign country?" "Oh, I shall be contented anywhere, if I am with your Highness; especially as you have graciously given my father a place in your train. We shall still be able to see each other when I have any spare time." "Good, contented little one," smiled Ottilie. "Tell me frankly, Röschen, has your heart no need of love? Do you not regret that you have rejected Albert, and must go through life alone?"