“Would you, indeed?” asked the Electoral Prince, quite moved by the lovely countenance and the heartfelt tone of the little girl.  “Would you be glad if the people loved you a little?  Well, I promise you, Cousin Louisa Henrietta, they will love you, and whoever shall look into your good, truthful eyes will feel himself fortunate and glad, just as I do now.  Keep your beautiful eyes, Louisa, and your innocence and harmlessness, and be a good housewife, then your people will love you very much.  But tell me, cousin, for whom is that wreath which is hanging on your arm?”

“For my beautiful cow; but if you will have it I will give it to you, and—­no,” she broke off, abashed and reddening, “no, forgive me, dear Cousin Frederick William; I shall not give you a wreath which I destined only for an animal.  I shall fix it so,” she cried, with a lovely smile, “I shall take this wreath to my Hulda, and to you, cousin, I shall give my own wreath.”

She hastily tore the wreath from her own locks, and raising herself on tiptoe tried with uplifted arm to place it on the Prince’s head, but he stayed her hand.

“No, cousin,” he said; “that must be done properly.  You are a lady, a Princess, and if you crown a knight, then let him bow the knee before you.”

And he bent his knee before her, and looked up at her smilingly and joyously.  “Crown me, Cousin Louisa Henrietta,” he said, with ceremonial pathos—­“crown me and give me a device.”

The little maiden held the crown thoughtfully in her hand, her large blue eyes fixed upon the smiling countenance before her with an earnest, meditative expression.

“Well,” he said, “why do you not give me the wreath?  And what are you thinking of?”

“Of a motto, cousin,” she replied seriously; “for you told me I must give you a device.  But I am only a silly little girl, and you must bear with me.  Mother said yesterday to me that the best motto she could give for everyday use is this, ‘Be a good woman.’  Now I think, if it were rightly changed and turned, it would suit you.”

And with charming determination she pressed the wreath upon the Prince’s dark locks, and then laid both her hands upon his head.

“Be a good man,” she said, “yes, Electoral Prince Frederick William, be a good man.”

The smile had suddenly vanished from the Prince’s countenance, and given place to a deep earnestness.  “Yes,” he said solemnly, “I promise you I shall be a good man.”  And just as he said this the cow bellowed aloud, and Princess Louisa turned her looks upon her and nodded pleasantly.