Ludovica was very different from her husband. She disliked meeting people, cared nothing for social life or gayety, and had an abhorrence for noise or confusion of any kind. Max was a great admirer of the fair sex and made no concealment of the fact. He had the true artist nature, sanguine, impulsive, and susceptible, and must have caused the Duchess many unhappy hours, innocent as most of the love affairs attributed to him seem to have been. Whatever her feelings were, however, she carefully concealed them from the eyes of the world. To all appearances the relations between her and her husband were most harmonious. In many ways, too, their opposite temperaments were of mutual advantage. His cheerfulness and careless gayety often banished the fits of melancholy to which she was subject, while her firmness and good sense proved a balance to his volatile nature, and they were united in their love of nature and country life. The first three years of their marriage were childless, but in 1831 the Duchess presented her husband with an heir, who was named Ludwig, for the King. As time went on the family circle increased. The oldest daughter, Hélène, was born in 1834. On Christmas Eve of 1837, Elizabeth came into the world, followed, in the Summer of 1839, by a second son, Karl Theodore. On the fourth of October, 1841, at Possenhofen, the Duchess gave birth to her third daughter, Maria Sophia Amalia, the future Queen of Naples. Two years later, Mathilde Ludovica was born. On the twenty-second of February, 1847, the youngest daughter of the ducal pair, Sophie Charlotte Augusta, made her appearance at Munich, and on the seventh of December, 1849, their youngest son, Maximilian Emanuel was born, also in Munich. Nearly all these children were destined to bring sorrow or anxiety to their parents. The Duke’s mercurial nature helped him to bear and rise above these troubles, but they sank deep into Ludovica’s heart. But she was sustained by her religion and a firm faith in Providence, whose decrees she bore with dignity and patience. Little as she spoke of it, devotion to her children was the ruling passion of her life. She never was diverted, by any consideration, from what she felt to be her duty toward them; and while her methods of training did not bear equal fruit with all, they loved her devotedly in return and always regarded her with the deepest respect and confidence. Chapter II Life at Munich and Possenhofen