a diadem upon your brow. Say only that you will try to love me, and
I will thank you for happiness and fame."

Prince Henry was so filled with his passion and enthusiasm, that he
did not remark the deadly pallor of Wilhelmina's face--that he did
not see the look of anguish and horror with which her eyes rested
for one moment upon him, then shrank blushingly and ashamed upon the
floor. He seized her cold, nerveless hands, and pressed them to his
heart; she submitted quietly. She seemed turned to stone.

"Be merciful, Wilhelmina; say that you forgive me--that you will try
to love me."

The princess shuddered, and glanced up at him. "I must say that,"
murmured she, "and you have not once said that you love me."

The prince shouted with rapture, and, falling upon his knees, he
exclaimed, "I love you! I adore you! I want nothing, will accept
nothing, but you alone; you are my love, my hope, my future.
Wilhelmina, if you do not intend me to die at your feet, say that
you do not spurn me--open your arms and clasp me to your heart."

The princess stood immovable for a moment, trembling and swaying
from side to side; her lips opened as if to utter a wild, mad cry--
pain was written on every feature. The prince saw nothing of this--
his lips were pressed upon her hand, and he did not look up--he did
not see his wife press her pale lips tightly together to force back
her cries of despair--he did not see that her eyes were raised in
unspeakable agony to heaven.