"First," said Marianne with an air of great importance, "I will tell you about the family of our Queen."

All the children looked up with eagerness.

"Her name," continued Marianne, "is Louisa Augusta Wilhelmina Amelia. Her father is the Duke Carl of Mecklenburg-Strelitz. Her mother, who died when she was six years old, was a Princess of Hesse-Darmstadt."

Here Marianne paused.

"It is important, children, that you should know these things of our Queen," she informed them, looking very wise and grown up. "Her name, the mother's, I mean, was Frederika Caroline Louisa. Now our Queen—I learned this to tell you—was born in the old castle of Hanover, March 10, 1776. Her father was the governor there for his brother-in-law, who is king of—where, Ilse?"

Both twins shook their heads.

"Carl?"

"Go on, Mariechen," said he, "don't be a teacher."

But Marianne had her plans.

"Bettina?"

"Oh, England," said the little girl, who had learned this from something she had heard Mr. Jackson say.

"Go on, Mariechen," urged Carl.

Marianne nodded.

"When our Queen was six," she said, "her father married her aunt, but she died, too, and our Queen lived with her grandmother, who took her to Holland, and Strasburg, and everywhere she travelled. One day she took her to the Rhine and she met the Crown Prince, who now is our King. Now, listen to what our dear Aunt Erna has written."

Marianne opened the red book.

On the first page was her aunt's name.

"Erna Hedwig Anna Marie von Bergman, her journal."

On the next was the date, "Dec. 22, 1793."

"To-day," read Marianne, "we went to see the entrance of our Crown Princess into Berlin. While we walked to Unter den Linden, where my Ludwig—I am betrothed now to Ludwig—had obtained for us very fine seats, he entertained us with stories of this lovely princess, who came to-day to our prince. He said everybody loved her, and he told me so much of her beauty that I was all eagerness to see her enter.

"Ludwig said that even when she was a child she gained love everywhere. Once, at Darmstadt, the great poet, Schiller, was reading aloud from his 'Don Carlos,' and he felt a pair of eyes on him. He looked up, and saw the loveliest little girl, who seemed to understand every word of his poetry. It was the little Princess Louisa, and Schiller smiled on her. To be smiled upon by a genius seems to me to be better than to be Crown Princess."

Marianne's face glowed as she read this.

"She would have understood me, my Aunt Erma," she thought.

"Go on, please, go on," said Carl.

"I said this to Ludwig," read Marianne, "but he told me that to be a good house-wife was better than either."

"Exactly like him," she muttered, and then went straight on with the journal.

"Our Princess, who came to-day, met our Prince at Frankfort-on-Main. Our King invited her with her grandmother and sister, Frederika, and the very instant that our Crown Prince saw Princess Louisa he said: 'She or never another.' A great love was at once in his heart.

"Every day they were together. Every evening in the theatre, and now, to-morrow, they marry. Our Prince Louis marries Princess Louisa's sister, Frederika. I find that lovely.

"They were betrothed at Darmstadt. Our King, who is such a jolly, joking man, gave them their rings. 'God bless you, children,' he said, and all the people said: 'Amen.'

"We thought there would be no marriage for a long time, for the King would not have it because of the war with France. But something changed his mind, and so to-day Berlin was decorated for the entry of the Princess.

"It was so fine I can hardly write about it. The whole of Berlin was decorated with flags. There were flags of Prussia, of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, and of the Holy Roman Empire. They were everywhere, on the Rathaus, across buildings, in windows. There were evergreens, too, and in all my life I have never seen such a Christmas Markt. The open place was all full of booths with fir trees in the centre. We started early enough for me to buy a few things for our Christmas tree.

"It was hard to choose. I wanted laces and I wanted Swiss carvings, and I wanted French bonbons, but at last at one booth I bought honey cakes, at another, the dearest gingerbread images of the Prince and Princess, at another, a chocolate group of the four royalties, and some lace and toys for the tree.

"The streets were so full we could hardly push our way through the throng of hunters in green, Berliners and peasants all in their Sunday costumes and gold ornaments.

"People were in all the windows, hanging over balconies and pushing and pressing in the streets. We reached our places just as the 'Berliner Citizens' Brigade' formed in lines up Leipzigerstrasse to the corner of Wilhelmstrasse.

"We were quite near the big arch where the Princesses were to be welcomed.

"It was splendid. There were three divisions in the arch, all decorated with flowers and statues and pictures and words of welcome.

"One figure was Hymen, who is the god of marriage, and there were two bridal wreaths, because of the double wedding.

"'Look, Erma,' said mother, and there, among the little French boys in green suits sitting on the arch, was FranÇois de Ballore, and among the lovely little German girls in white with pink sashes and wreaths of roses, I saw Hedwig RÜckert, Elise Stege, and Annchen Romeike.

"'One of them,' explained Ludwig, 'is to recite a poem of welcome.'

"It was dreadfully tiresome standing in that great crowd, but at last came the procession.

"There was a sound of horns, and six splendid horses walking with the greatest stateliness entered Unter den Linden. On them were the Royal Post Secretaries. Then came postilions in splendid uniforms, and after them the carriers in blue. The postilions, there were forty of them, Ludwig said, were all blowing horns, and I felt sorry, indeed, for the carriers. I liked the next thing very much. It was the Hunters' Guild, and they wore green costumes with peach-blossom facings. But the next after the hunters was splendid. It was dozens of young Berliners dressed as knights of the Middle Ages.

"The people cried out: 'Enchanting!' 'Wonderful!' and I said to Ludwig that I wished men dressed that way now and not in ugly every-day knee breeches and ruffled coats.

"But Ludwig only told me that armour would be inconvenient, and made fun. But I think so, just the same. What is there romantic about a queue, or slipper buckles, and knee breeches? Nothing at all.

"It was fun to see how important the Brewers and Distillers looked in blue. The merchants and their sons wore red, and after them came Frederick the Great's fine Royal Guard, and they all arranged themselves in two lines for the carriages to enter.

"The Berliners refused to have Royal Chamberlains about the carriages.

"'We want to see the Princesses, not Chamberlains,' they said.

"Ludwig named the people to me.

"The handsome, white-haired lady with bright, sparkling eyes, was the Countess von Voss, the Mistress of Court Ceremonies, who had gone to Potsdam to meet the Princess. There was the Duke, and the grandmother, and the brother of the Princesses, and the Maids of Honour, the two Ladies Vieregg, and Master of Court Ceremonies von Schulden.

"We could hardly see them for the crowd, and there was a woman near me who talked so much I could hardly hear Ludwig. She said that her husband was a member of the Guild of Butchers and he had marched to Potsdam, which was splendidly decorated, in a brown suit with gold shoulder-bands and a gold-figured vest and splendid red galoon hat with lace trimming. They gave the first welcome to the Princesses and, goodness knows, the butcher's wife was proud of it.

"But at last she was still, for in a splendid gold coach drawn by eight horses came the two brides.

"They are so beautiful I cannot describe them.

"They are both slender and very graceful, and they both have blue eyes and golden hair, but if you once see Princess Louisa, you can never look again at Princess Frederika.

"The people were enchanted.

"'Never have we seen such eyes, never,' was all we heard, for the Princess turned as she stepped on the platform and smiled right at us.

"They were blue and true, and oh, they are so different from other people's that I do not know how to tell it. They seem to say: 'I love you, I love you.'

"The sweetest thing happened.

"The prettiest little baby girl in white and pink, with a wreath of roses on her curls, came out on the platform to welcome the Princess. She was like a round-cheeked cherub, and she carried a bouquet of roses almost as big as herself. It was a poem she said of great big grown-up words, and her mouth was so tiny that it made everybody smile just to see her.

"'When thou appearest,' she began, and kept ducking her little head and then smiling at the Princess and looking out of the corners of her eyes.

"I have never seen anything half so pretty.

"And when she was through, what did she do but just stand and look at the Princess and smile, as much as to say: 'And how, dear Princess, do you like it?'

"And then what did our new Princess do but spring forward, catch the little round-cheeked thing in her arms and hug and kiss her as if not a soul was looking.

"'You darling!' she said.

"The people were just wild.

"'She will not only be our Queen,' said the woman who talked so much, 'she will be a mother to her people.'

"But the Mistress of Court Ceremonies was shocked.

"We could hear what she said, quite distinctly.

"'My heavens!' she cried, and her voice was so full of horror that even Ludwig laughed, 'what has Your Highness done? That is against all etiquette.'

"Then our Princess turned just like a girl.

"'What!' she cried, and I never heard a voice so sweet and like a silver bell, 'may I not do such things any more?'

"'She is adorable," said Monsieur de Paillot, who was standing quite near mother.

"'She is an angel,' said the woman who talked so much."

"Why, Mariechen," interrupted Elsa, "that's what everybody now calls her."

Marianne nodded.

"Go on," commanded Carl, whose blue eyes were quite eager with listening.

"After that," went on the journal, "the Princesses went to the palace, where the Princes were waiting. We had to wait for the crowd to thin, and Monsieur de Paillot and Ludwig fell to talking. He is a French refugee, I think. Berlin is full of them.

"'Monsieur,' he said to Ludwig, 'this parade to-day recalls another that I saw when a Princess came, also, to my kingdom.'

"We all listened politely.

"'She came, my friends,' he said, 'from Vienna, that Princess. Her bridegroom was the Dauphin of France. She, also, was beautiful.'

"He looked so solemn he took all the pleasure from our procession.

"A queer wrinkle came in his forehead and he looked almost like a revolutionist.

"'Many things have come to pass,' he said, 'since I first saw that Queen of France.'

"It was Marie Antoinette, I knew it, then. Poor lady, the wicked French have beheaded her.

"Monsieur de Paillot looked at me sternly.

"'These are troubled times,' he said. 'Old things are passing, new things are being born. Ours is a day of revolutions, of changes. There has been a struggle for liberty in America. I had the honour, as you know, of fighting with the noble Lafayette in the Colonies. I have seen Washington. I have talked with Thomas Jefferson, with the learned Franklin. You, here in Prussia, still have serfs, no constitution, and no patriotism. In America, the women went in homespun, the men starved at Valley Forge, and all for the rights of man. But here, pardon me, Madame, but is it not true that you borrow your language, your customs, everything from France? I fear that lovely young Princess may suffer.'

"Mother was furious. So was I. But Ludwig nodded.

"'You are right, Monsieur, quite right,' he said, and I think that horrid in him, even if he will be my husband.

"'Monsieur,' I said, 'was the Queen of France as beautiful as our Princess?'

"Then he made me a grand bow that made me think he was not quite so horrid.

"'Mademoiselle,' he said, 'I have never seen so lovely a woman as this Princess of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, never.'"

When Marianne read this the children stopped her.

"Was that our Queen?" asked Carl.

"Of course," said Ilsa, "first she was Crown Princess, then our Queen."

At that moment the maid brought in the supper.

"To-morrow night," said Marianne, "I will read you the next things that happened. Come, now, Bettina, you may pass the bread, and Ilse, you and Elsa sit here one on each side of me, and Carl, you may be father."

"It is nice, Mariechen," said Ilse, "to have you take care of us."

"Yes," said Elsa.

"I love you, Mariechen," and Carl hugged her until she was nearly strangled.

Marianne, her eyes dancing, was glad that she was trying to be better. It made her happier, she found, than even "The Sorrows of Werther."