Better than they, the Lord supplied her loss. When the lilies of the valley bloomed on little Elizabeth's grave, the happy mother's thanksgiving rose heavenward: "The Lord hath taken away, the Lord hath given. Blessed be the name of the Lord." In his study Luther sat and wrote in great haste: "Grace and Peace in Christ, my dear Amsdorf! The gracious God has regarded our sorrow, and has sent us in place of our little dead maiden, a living one. I pray you, therefore, make haste, that it may not longer remain a heathen, but speedily, by means of the blessed Sacrament, be enrolled in Heaven as an heir of eternal life." When the sacred act had been performed, Luther took his daughter upon his arm and said: "My dear little Lena, thou art doubly welcome,--for thine own sake, and for the sake of thy departed sister, who lives again in thee; for when I look at thee, methinks I again behold my little Elizabeth." Then, turning to his wife, he bent down over the pale face, and said: "You dearest wife, how can I thank you for this precious gift! What were Dr. Martin, without his Kate! Since I have you, I am no longer poor, but a rich man indeed! If Thou lovest me, O Lord my God, do Thou preserve and bless this dear life." CHAPTER XV. ALONE. Katharine sat alone in her husband's study,--that famous spot, whence Luther directed his attacks upon the Papacy. For five long months the Doctor had been absent at the Castle of Coburg. There, by the Elector's desire, he remained during the continuance of the Diet of Augsburg, where he was unable to be present, by reason of the Imperial interdict. Yet he was near enough to aid the Protestants with his counsel, and infuse into their hearts some of his own spiritual strength. Although the reformer was often called from home by his many duties, Katharine could never accustom herself to his absence. Her life seemed bereft of its dignity and its chief delight, when she could neither see her husband's face, nor hear his voice. She lived for him only, nay more,--all that gave purpose to her existence, and made her life worth living, came from him. As she rested under the shadow of this great man, life unfolded to her its fullness. She had no desire to glory before the world, as the wife of the greatest and the most renowned man of his time. To be overshadowed by his greatness, to receive from the abundance of his spiritual riches, seemed to her a great and an enviable privilege. To forget herself, to serve him in humble love, was her most cherished duty.