I could not restrain my tears, and could neither speak nor eat; my mother looked at me with the most tender compassion. Every moment here brings me some new sorrow, and the bonmots of our little Matthias have lost all power to divert me. My father makes signs to him with his eyes that he may invent something witty, but it is all lost upon me. Music to a suffering body is but an importunate noise; and sallies of wit to a despairing soul have lost their savor. Our little Matthias is inconceivably acute; he divines all. He knows my position, I am quite sure. He took advantage yesterday of a moment when I was quite alone to come into my room, and with an air half sad, half jesting, he knelt down before me and drew from his pocket a little bouquet of dried flowers tied with a white ribbon and fastened by a gold pin.... I could not at first tell what he meant, but soon the bouquet I had worn at Barbara's wedding flashed across my memory. He gave me the flowers, saying: 'I am sometimes a prophet,' and, still on his knees, went toward the door. I ran after him; I remembered all, and with the remembrance came a crowd of feelings, at once sweet and bitter. This bouquet was the same I had given Matthias on Barbara's wedding day.... I took a rich diamond pin from my dress, and fastened it at the buttonhole of Matthias's coat. Neither he nor I spoke a single word, but I am sure that while each wondered inwardly at the strange fulfilment of the prophecy, each was still more surprised that it had realized none of our hopes. Just as I was writing these lines, my mother entered my room. Her kindness is incomparable; she brought me such a quantity of stuffs, of jewels and blondes, that she could scarcely carry them. She laid them on my bed, and said: 'I give you a portion of the trousseau destined to my daughters; I should have added many other articles, but I was afraid they were not handsome enough, and yet I have given you the best I had. I have spoken to my husband, and he has determined to sell two villages to make a trousseau worthy of so illustrious a union. That will come when the secret is unveiled.' I burst into tears, and would have thrown myself at her feet, but she prevented me, and asked me a thousand pardons for presenting me with things of so little value. Oh, yes! I must certainly leave here day after to-morrow. I suffer beyond expression. My younger sisters, madame, the courtiers, and even the old servants exclaim over the change which has come upon me, and ask one another why I am not yet married, and why no one seems to think of having me married.