Her early productions gained much praise, and it was not long before she obtained such exceeding skill as to become the rival of her teacher. Admiring connoisseurs carried her fame abroad, and she became celebrated at foreign courts. Her works were eagerly sought by the first princes of the time, after Louis XIV. of France had placed one of them in his magnificent collection. The Emperor Leopold and the empress sent for specimens of her powers, for which she received the portraits of their imperial majesties, set in diamonds, in token of their esteem. Her pieces commanded enormous prices. William III. of England paid her nine hundred florins for a picture, and the sovereigns of Europe seemed to vie with one another in heaping honors and fame on this gifted woman. The King of Poland purchased three of her pictures for two thousand four hundred florins. These sums were paid her with every mark of respect, as presents from her friends rather than professional remuneration. In the midst of all these honors Maria led a quiet and peaceful life, undisturbed by excitement or change. She was surrounded by a pleasant circle of friends; she worked indefatigably, and was always found in her cabinet. To obtain more time to herself, she went to pay a visit to her grandfather at Delft. One day she received a visit from a young man, who announced himself as William van Aelst, and appeared anxious to see some of her works. His admiration of them, was blended with an ardent love for the artist. He at last summoned courage to declare his passion, but Maria replied that she was firmly resolved against matrimony. Her lively suitor, she thought, too, was unsuited to her grave and quiet nature. Unwilling, however, to crush his hopes too suddenly and treat him with unkindness, she annexed a condition to her acceptance of her wooer, which she imagined would effectually deter him from prosecuting his suit, or at least wear out his constancy. She required that he should work ten hours of every day for a year. The young man promised readily; but, as she supposed, he had not perseverance enough to keep his word. His studio was opposite Maria’s; she watched him from her window, and failed not to mark on the sash the days he was absent from his labors. At the end of the year William came to claim her promise. “You have yourself absolved me from it,” was her reply; and, going to the window, she pointed out to him the record of his idle days. The lover was confounded, and retired disappointed. Maria painted flowers with an admirable finish and accuracy, and displayed exquisite taste and art in their selection and grouping; she had also wonderful skill in copying their fresh tints, and in the harmonious adjustment of different colors. She took a long while and bestowed much labor in finishing her works, and they are consequently rare. She died at the age of sixty-three, at the house of her nephew, Jacques von Assendelft, a preacher at Eutdam in Holland.