The winter months were usually passed in Neuwied, and the summers at Monrepos. Here it had been for many years the most ardent wish of Princess Elizabeth to go to school with the village children. One morning she rushed excitedly into the room of her much-occupied mother and asked if she might accompany the children of the bailiff to school. The Princess of Wied did not hear the question, and nodded pleasantly to the child. She took this sign for an acquiescence, and rushed to the next farm, called the Hahnhof. Here she hears that the little girls of Frau Schanz are already gone to school. She darts after them, manages to catch them up, and enters the schoolroom with them whilst a singing lesson was going on. The schoolmaster felt much flattered when he saw the little Princess take her place before him on the bench and join in the singing with all her might. But the little daughter of the bailiff, already rather impressed with Court etiquette, did not think it proper that a daughter of a Prince should sing so loud with the village children. As soon as her voice sounded above those of the others her little neighbour laid her hand over her mouth, endeavouring thus to impress the Princess with the impropriety of her behaviour. At the Castle, meanwhile, the disappearance of Princess Elizabeth caused a great commotion. Footmen were sent out in all directions. They searched the neighbouring birch forests and outlying villages in vain. At last they found the little Princess at the summit of happiness in the village school of Rodenbach. The lost madcap was brought back to the Castle and shut up in her room as a punishment for the rest of the day. A sad ending to a day begun with such rapture. “It was the only stroke of genius of my childhood!” she remarked later when Queen. “I was thoroughly ashamed of myself, and never ventured to speak of it.” Princess Elizabeth had to be brought up with great perseverance and earnestness. The danger was great that the extraordinary and powerful disposition of the talented child might influence her in the wrong direction. She took up everything passionately and impetuously, and when at play with children of her own age was always overexcited. Children that were strange to her, whether they were villagers or of good family, felt her authority immediately and obeyed her without a murmur. These little people were led by her into the wildest romps. But Princess Elizabeth did not merely play for fun. She was quite overpowered by the world of her imagination, and carried out the vivid thoughts of her fancy--a strong impulse to command and a craving for activity belonged to her natural disposition.