"No, your Highness," exclaimed Röschen, cheerily; and two charming little dimples appeared in her plump, rosy cheeks. "Life in your service is so pleasant, and I love you and my father so dearly, that I haven't the slightest wish for the constant restlessness and feverish excitement of a betrothal." Ottilie stood thoughtfully before her. "Tell me, my child, how did you succeed in forgetting Herr von Ottmar so easily, since you love no one else?" "Oh, your Highness, I did not forget him easily," said Röschen, raising her large, childlike, blue eyes frankly to Ottilie's face. "I cried a great deal at first, and thought I should die; but by degrees I saw that it is a sin to covet anything we know the dear God does not intend for us; besides, my confessor, Herr Lorenz, represented how hard it would be for my old father if he was compelled to see his daughter waste away thus. Then I felt ashamed of myself, went busily to work again, and broke myself of my useless longing and sighing. Ah, work is good for everything: it leaves one no time to weep, and at night one is so tired that sleep conquers all grief. So I soon began to take pleasure in living again, and thanked God that he had punished my sin so mildly. Anxiety about poor Albert was the only thing that troubled me, and now I am relieved even from this. He is a happy man." The princess felt the reproof contained in the young girl's artlessly prattled philosophy. Her glance fell upon the mirror, and, as if reflecting the reproach in Röschen's words, it showed cheeks paled by her long-nourished sorrow, in the sharpest contrast to the bright, blooming face of the waiting-maid. "Yes, yes, you are right," she murmured, at last, gazing at Röschen's image in the mirror. After a long pause she began, in an almost expressionless tone, "Have you learned no particulars from Albert as to whether an acknowledged love exists between the count and the young girl called the Prison Fairy?" "Albert does not know it positively, your Highness, but he is almost sure of it; for ever since the count came back from N---- he has written to her very often, and seems entirely different from what he used to be,--much more cheerful and happy." Ottilie compressed her lips, and involuntarily laid her hand upon her heart, as if she felt a sudden pang. "Does anything hurt you, your Highness? Does the pin I put in there prick you?" asked Röschen, anxiously. "Yes, take it out; it hurts me," said Ottilie, and thought, "Ah, if you only could!" "Your Highness, your heart is beating violently! Your Highness is certainly suffering from that pain in the breast again! If you would only tell the doctor about it!" "My good girl, he can do me no good." A short cough interrupted her, and she glanced smilingly at Röschen's troubled face. "Be calm, my child, people do not die of such things; and if I should, I shall leave you a legacy which will support you all your life."