A long pause followed. Both looked at each other in breathless suspense. Ottilie was paler than ever; Cornelia deeply flushed. At last Ottilie gently took her hand and murmured almost inaudibly, with a sort of sorrowful satisfaction, "Yes; so my fancy pictured you! So you must be." "Your Highness bestows upon me so great a favor that I seek in vain for words to express my joyful surprise and gratitude." "There can be no question of gratitude here; but no doubt you were surprised that I should request you to visit me." Ottilie seated herself, and drew Cornelia down upon the sofa beside her. "I have a great and important matter to intrust to you, Fräulein, and believe I can read in your eyes, an your lofty brow, the certainty that I have applied to the right person." Cornelia looked at Ottilie in eager expectation. After a short pause, the latter continued: "Accident, Fräulein, or rather destiny, made me acquainted with your labors among the prisoners. I perceived with admiration how you had aimed at results which the wisest provisions of the law could not attain; how you were the first to strew over the lifeless forms of punishment the living germs from which sprang new life, remorse, and amendment. You will believe me when I say that no mere idle curiosity, but heartfelt sympathy, impelled me to make the acquaintance of so remarkable a character. I will even confess that I trembled lest I should find your person did not harmonize with the ideal I had formed." She paused, and once more gazed long and earnestly into Cornelia's eyes; then bent towards her and pressed a kiss upon her brow. "Thank God that I now dare love you in reality, as I have already done in fancy!" "Your Highness," began Cornelia, deeply moved as she sought for words, while her bosom rose and fell more rapidly, "I know I do not deserve what you say; and yet a blissful content, for which I can find no expression, overflows my whole nature. You see me in the light that streams from yourself; but its rays fall upon my soul also, and wake their concealed powers of good, which fill me with pride,--not for what I have done, but for what I shall accomplish. God knows I performed these works of mercy without any desire or hope of recognition. I have long supposed I labored wholly unobserved; but there is so great a recompense in this moment that it would crown the toil of a whole life; and I will struggle all my life to deserve it." "You are enthusiastic, my child; but this very enthusiasm makes you what you are; so I will accept the flattery contained in your words as the tribute every noble soul offers to the ideal towards which we all strive."