After the Electoress had dismissed the woman, she reflected for some time upon the course she should pursue. At last she decided to remonstrate with her mother-in-law so that such dangerous proceedings should not be repeated. She went at once to her apartments, sent in her name by a maid in waiting, and was admitted. Though both were under the same roof, the two ladies had not seen one another for several weeks. The manner of their meeting showed their alienation. The Electoress bowed low; her face was pale, and its expression that of one who was very ill. The Princess Anna stood erect and motionless some seconds and regarded her with piercing glances from her black eyes. Her gray locks shadowed a flushed face, the features of which revealed a crafty nature. Politely acknowledging her deference, she motioned the Electoress to be seated and then asked in a cutting tone: “What is it that has brought you to your mother-in-law? Surely something very extraordinary must have happened.” The reply came in a clear, firm voice. “Yes, something very extraordinary has happened. I, the Princess of the country, have been insulted under my own roof, by a priest—I and my husband and the government. And who has brought this shame upon us? My own mother-in-law, the mother of my dear husband! She protected this priest, she summoned him here, she invited citizens here to listen to insults of myself and assaults upon my religion, and to expose me to their hatred and derision. O my God! when ever before has a Princess been so treated?” She burst into tears. With the utmost coolness the other replied: “Nathan also went to the house of the King, and his words were a two-edged sword. He came to save David from destruction, and, lo, he succeeded; for David repented. The pious Balthazar came to this house and denounced the apostasy of those who are floundering about in the morasses of the heretical Reformed religion. Oh, that his words were a trumpet blast to rouse you from your sinful slumber and that you, like David, might repent and acknowledge your error.” The Electoress in the meantime had regained composure. “I have not come here,” said she, “to engage in useless dispute with you about the doctrines of the Lutheran and Reformed faiths, but I may remind you that if you assail us so shamefully you cannot blame the Catholics for assailing you. You call us apostates and you condemn the Catholics for their persecution of you, and yet in your heart you deny us in like manner the freedom of conscience!” “Well! when we see hearts in the power of Satan, should we not cry aloud?” “How can you be so bitterly unjust?” replied the Electoress. “Should you not hesitate before you insult a religion in which not only I but my husband, your son, believe—a religion indeed in which a man believed who for a long time was the nearest one to you on earth?”