For many months hundreds of people made pilgrimages to this spot, for the whole country mourned with the afflicted parents. During her short life the little Princess Marie had become the idol of the people, and the Roumanians had looked up to her with pride as being their own possession! All who were allowed to approach the bereaved parents during this time of bitter sorrow were much impressed by their unselfish resignation to the mysterious will of God. When the Princess was given to understand this, she answered--“Dites à leur tous, que je tâche de suivre l’example de ma mère. Je l’ai vue souffrir! Elle était plus forte que moi!” On the 12th of April 1874, after the death of her child, Princess Elizabeth wrote to her mother:--“God has drawn my child to Himself in His love! May He eternally be praised for the great happiness which was mine! I would rather become a weeping rock like Niobe than never have been a mother! Yes, it is too much joy for one little human heart! My child is so happy, my love is stronger than the grave, and I can rejoice in its joy! There is so much to say about the little one, because she already had such marked characteristics, and was so independent, original, and charming. Still she is mine for all eternity! I have not lost the high dignity of a mother because my child is separated from me. The great happiness which I enjoy is not too dearly bought with this great sorrow! The pain is a thousand times outweighed by the joy, for it was joy without a pang, and now it is joyful pain! “The chill frost came in the night, the night, And my flower all withered lies. His icy touch was so light, so light, But it closed her fair blue eyes. Ah me! is it thus that my joys depart, While stricken and mute I stand. O frost, let the fire that burns at my heart Be quenched by thy cold, wet hand. _May 1, 1874._ “Yes, God has given me much, very much. Such a father, such a mother, such a brother, such a husband, and such a child. Too much indeed! and though He removes them from my sight He does not take away His heavenly gifts, for they dwell for ever in my memory. I feel that after such great blessings I have no right to complain, and even to-day the joy is so great in retrospection that the sorrow cannot crush me. I often say that a mother’s love is deeper than the grave, and I rejoice in the bliss of my child. But that the world cannot be otherwise than dark and gloomy to me is not to be altered, and must be borne. “Wherefore give to poor weak women-- To Earth-Mothers--babes from Heaven, God, O God? Fairy boons, seen but to vanish Like a light-ray, like an air-waft! Must then that which was one’s Soul’s soul, Be so reft away, and leave us, Leave us, struck in Life’s mid fulness Deathly-sorrowful, and faltering?