“I was sure that you would be dissatisfied with me because I did not keep my appointment. I don’t know if you think my reason a good one, but it was a very real one....[211] But, I say, why did you let me wait the day before yesterday two hours in the street? and why do you not excuse yourself? Do you think I am not hurt by such treatment. Read my first letter, you will see the reasons why I thought you ought to have let me know. I did not cry out about it, but that did not prevent me being very much piqued. Your letter of yesterday charmed me: I will make a play of it, for, besides the wit, it is filled with natural and convincing tenderness. I can see it is my charming princess, my Sophie, who wrote it—adorable angel! I shed tears in reading your letter. Your lovely eyes have been bathed in tears, and I am the cause! Königsmarck, thou dost not deserve to possess Sophie’s loving heart.” ----- Footnote 211: He was ill, but there is no need to quote his detailed description of his illness. ----- “[HANOVER,] _Tuesday_. “My anxiety will not let me sleep. I go over everything in my mind, even my childhood; but I cannot find the letter I had from you last night nor remember where I put it. I burned one yesterday,—it might have been yours by mistake. Unfortunately the missing letter is the one in which you notified when and where I might see you. It was the last I had from you. I remember it well; I had it from La Confidente on Sunday morning, for yesterday morning she had one from me; but she did not write back, and that worries me. I did not find anything in my hat last night. You remember that you asked me what I was looking for. I answered: ‘My hat; some one has stolen my gloves’. You replied: ‘No doubt, for Count Horne, or Oxensterne, I don’t remember which one it was, had a fringed pair of gloves stolen’. You see, I remember trifles. Do not imagine, then, I could have forgotten such a thing as an appointment with you. Would to Heaven I _had_ forgotten, for I fear our carelessness will be our ruin. I swear to you that I looked in my hat, and, as to my gloves, I put them on, but there was nothing in them. I was angry with La Confidente, for she had given me the signal and yet I found nothing [in my hat]. I thought she had not had an opportunity. But I was much surprised on leaving the room to find nothing, for La Confidente had given me the signal a second time. I wanted to speak to her about it, but Prince Ernest followed me so closely, and Stutenfrich was next to me on the other side, that I could not do so. You will see from my letter of last night that I made no mistake; it was written as soon as I got home. If I had one from you I should not have forgotten it in three hours’ time, despite my poor memory. _Dieu ait pitié de nous, car sans son secours je ne sais