_The Princess to Königsmarck._ “CELLE, _July_ 28/_August_ 7. “I, too, ask your pardon for all my unjust suspicions; I would not for worlds have been in the right. I am at a loss for words to express my joy at finding you still so tender; but, indeed, there is a little laziness in you, and it is very good of me to forgive you so easily for the three posts you let pass without writing. Tell me what hindered you; I should like to know. Find me a good excuse, for, really, your neglect rankles in my heart. I am greatly vexed that two of my letters are lost, for if they reflect at all what I am thinking, it will not be difficult to guess that they are written by me. You do not understand what I meant to say about the portrait. I did not mean to speak of mine, for I am sure you will have greater care for all that concerns me than I have myself. It was about yours I was uneasy. You say you are going to have a copy made of it; for whom do you intend that copy? I thank you for giving me leave to go to Wiesbaden; you can do so without any risk, for I so belong to you that you have nothing to fear. All the same, without your consent I would have died rather than have gone, for my only desire is to please you. The Duke and Duchess [of Hanover] have written to me the kindest, most affectionate, and politest of letters concerning the journey. I do not know if I shall be able to receive your letters as quickly as if I were remaining here; I hope so, for they are my only joy and comfort—the least delay grieves me greatly. “It was so thoughtful of you not to go to Brussels. However, do not restrain yourself; I have no wish to be _exigeante_ so long as you cherish me in your memory. I am too happy, too pleased; but keep your heart whole for me, and do not allow any one to divide it. I am delighted that you are, for once in your life, satisfied with me; were you reasonable you would always be so, for all I do goes to prove my love and devotion. I do not know what you are doing, perhaps very often thinking of me. I dream of you often, and with infinite pleasure, thinking I am with you; then I awake and am inconsolable to find it was only a dream. I cannot delude myself into thinking the vision may soon become a reality, for the Prince writes to me that they are going to raise the siege of Namur. What terrors that news has for me! _Grand Dieu!_ I think of you exposed to danger. How can I keep calm when all that I love, all the delight of my life, is in deadly peril? I offer endless prayers for you, keeping a good heart while saying them, trying to believe they will be granted. Farewell.” CHAPTER XVI. THE BATTLE OF STEINKIRK.