When Princess Elizabeth was leaving her old home they had called after her--“May your entrance into Roumania also be an entrance into the hearts of your people.” This prophetic hope has been amply fulfilled. By her simplicity and her amiable manners, as well as by her winning voice and charming appearance, Princess Elizabeth took all hearts by storm on her arrival in Roumania. The expectant people felt at once that this was a Princess who could understand and relieve their distress. And they were not mistaken in their judgment, for Princess Elizabeth has become a mother to her country in the fullest sense of the word. [Illustration] VIII. Maternal Joy and Sorrow. The Princess had begun her new life in her new home with illness. Only her wonderful energy had enabled her to bear the fatigues of her public reception whilst labouring under great physical discomfort. On the third day after her public entrance the Princess was attacked by the measles, though fortunately only slightly, and the illness was not of long duration. After the great excitement of the last weeks the enforced quiet could only be desirable. How happy the Princess felt in her new surroundings a little poem shows which she inscribed in her Journal on the 12th of December 1869:-- “From a gladsome month a jubilee song Soars up to the skies above, Like the lark’s song saying, so clear and strong, ‘What a beautiful world to love!’” After her recovery the first expedition the Princess made was to Cotroceni, which is situated on a height at ten minutes’ distance from Bucharest. It is an old monastery, surrounded by a thickly wooded park, which the Prince had arranged as a country house for the summer. Not far off, beyond the green trees, the shining domes of the Asyle Hélène, an educational establishment for young orphan girls, are seen. From this height the view of Bucharest is also very fine. This is nearer to the town than the station, and the coming and going in the wood-paved streets can be distinctly perceived. Women in their dazzlingly white linen and embroidered garments are seen busily painting their cottages white and their windows red and blue. These cottages are roofed with wooden tiles, and lie scattered between the gorgeous palaces of the Boyards. Under the willows and alders on the banks of the Dimbovitza lie magnificent buffaloes, idly resting, and half lost to view in the deep mud and the green foliage. Only their expressive faces with their immense horns are still visible. Carriages drawn by eight and sometimes twelve little horses rush by at full gallop. A boy guides them with one hand. His fiery glances and his fur cap placed on one side of his head lead one to gather that he is not of a sort to stop at any danger. Carmen Sylva has drawn a lively picture of these characteristics of the Roumanian coachman in her poem called “The Post.” Here artistic ideas meet one at every turn, for amidst such surroundings everything groups