Those of the princess are in an elegant, somewhat flowing hand, and, with rare exception, correct in expression. They are on fine, gilt-edged paper. Königsmark’s letters are, we are told, on coarse, thick paper, which hardly agreed with his fine gentlemanly style in everything. They are legibly written, but the spelling is that of an ignorant school-boy. In some portions, cyphers, numbers, or disguised names were used, the interpretation of which was easily got at, as would be the case if the letters were forged and were intended to be easily understood a century after the events had happened to which they referred. Very few of the letters--none of importance--have any address on them. They have strayed from their envelopes, says Palmblad; but envelopes were not then in use. Letters were folded and the address written on the blank outside folding. Some few, according to Palmblad, have external directions and are sealed with Königsmark’s private seal--a heart within the motto, ‘Cosi fosse il vostro dentre il mio’ (so may be yours within mine!). The post-mark is on some. One of them is directed, ‘Pour la personne connue.’ Palmblad suggests that it was originally enclosed within one ‘to the Confidant.’ Several are addressed to ‘Mademoiselle La Frole de Knesebeck.’ The latter name is occasionally spelt ‘Qnesbegk.’ A nearly complete (and very convenient) absence of dates defies all attempts to place this correspondence in anything like chronological order. Conjecturally, the experts suggest that the dates extend from 1688 to 1693, inclusive--six years. When it is remembered that the princess and Königsmark were closely watched, in order, if possible, to make a case out against them, and that the two friends knew they were surrounded by spies, the idea of their sending letters through the post, and of such letters being preserved instead of destroyed, seems folly too absurd for serious belief. ‘The contents of these letters,’ Palmblad informs us, ‘consist, for the most part, of mutual assurances of love and everlasting fidelity; of complaints over separation and of the constraint put on them by the secret relations existing between them; of plans for privately meeting, or expressed hopes of a coming uninterrupted life together; of accounts of their occupations, pleasures, and their conversational intercourse with others; mixed up with jealous reproaches, and subsequent apologies for making them. When both pass an evening at court festivals, where the princess is unable to bestow a tender glance or a stolen word on her beloved, or has spoken or walked with another cavalier, then Königsmark addresses to her an epistle full of complaints at her coquetry, and her ‘airs connus.’ With the same mistrust does the princess notice every step of her (supposed) adorer. Nevertheless, no two persons so tenderly loved one another as Königsmark his Leonisse--the fond pseudonym of the princess.’