"Now who," said Charlotte almost testily, 'would want to marry a poor little princess like me! Be realistic, Ida, for once. My mouth is too large and my person too small, I have neither attractions nor fortune. No man whom my brother and my mother would consider worthy would consider me worthy, so there's an end of the matter.”
Just as she finished speaking the sound of the postman's horn was heard in the distance.
"Letters from afar," said Christina, lifting her head.
Ida's eyes sparkled. "Perhaps this is a sweetheart come to claim you, Princess," she whispered to Charlotte.
Charlotte laughed at her; and they were all silent. Again the postman's horn was heard this time nearer. They listened to it until it was right at the door of the schloss.
A page was coming across the gardens, straight to the table where the girls sat at their sewing.
Christina was watching eagerly. Poor Christina. She was always believing that she would be summoned to her brother's presence and there told that she had his consent to her marriage.
"His Highness commands the presence of the Princess Charlotte without delay.”
Charlotte's knees were trembling as she rose. This was how she had imagined it a hundred times.
The letters arriving from Prussia. The King's fury; his angry letters to the Duke who allowed his sister to be so disrespectful to the King of whom every little German duke must stand in awe.
Christina and Ida looked alarmed; even Madame de Grabow was ill at ease. The letters had just arrived. It seemed strange that Charlotte should have been summoned so soon. This could not have happened unless it was a matter of the utmost importance.
She followed the page into the castle. It was so hot out of doors, so cool behind those thick walls; but it was not the change of temperature which made her shiver; it was apprehension. She was saying to herself: I don't care. It was right to do it. I know it was right.
The door was flung open. There they stood; her brother and her mother, side by side. Oh, this was a very important occasion.
"Charlotte”. It was her mother who spoke. She approached, still rehearsing her excuses.
"Charlotte, my dear child." Her mother embraced her.
"I have wonderful news for you. This is one of the happiest days of my life.”
Charlotte looked from her mother to her brother. He, too, was smiling.
The Duke said almost teasingly: "So you thought fit to write a letter to the King of Prussia?”
"Yes," answered Charlotte, trying to be bold but hearing her voice end on a squeak which betrayed her fear.
"Telling His Majesty how to conduct his armies.”
"No, that was not so. I merely told him of what the war had done to us here. I begged him to stop his soldiers pillaging the land which was doing no good to any of us.”
"It was an impertinent letter," said the Duke.
"But," added the Dowager Duchess with a smile, 'it amused His Majesty.”
"It... it was not meant to amuse.”
"It touched him too. He has given orders that his armies shall not plunder the villages through which they pass.”
Charlotte clasped her hands and smiled. She did not care now. She had achieved her purpose.
They could punish her if they wished. She would sew a hundred of the coarsest shirts to be distributed among the poor; she would not care; she would rejoice as she pricked her fingers as one always did with that coarse stuff. And she would think all the time of the King of Prussia, reading her letter and deciding that she was right.
"The King thought it a remarkable letter for a sixteen-year-old girl to write. Though you are seventeen now, Charlotte.”
"Yes, Mamma.”
"That is good too. It is a pleasant age. Now for my news. The King of Prussia had copies of your letter made and showed them to his friends. He even sent one to the Dowager Princess of England the mother of the King.”
"To England! So far!”
"It was the biggest stroke of good fortune that has come to our House for a long time," said the Duke.
"Your Highness means my letter ...”
"Your letter," said her mother. She smiled at her son.
"The Princess Dowager thought it a remarkable letter; so did her son.”
"The King! The King of England?”
"He read it, they tell me, and tears filled his eyes. He said: "What a remarkable girl the Princess Charlotte must be." And so he sent Colonel Graeme to see you and to report to him what he thought of you. It seems that Colonel Graeme thought very highly of you.”
"Mamma ... what are you telling me?”
"That you are fortunate beyond our wildest hopes and dreams. The King of England is asking for your hand in marriage.”
"What did I say?" demanded Ida.
"Did I not say it was a sweetheart? I never thought it would be the King of England, though.”
"But Ida... he has not seen me!”
"Colonel Graeme has seen you. And he evidently liked what he saw.”
"What a strange way in which to choose a bride”
"All royal brides are chosen in that way.”
"Colonel Graeme must have flattered me. I hope it won't be a shock for the King when he sees me.”
"Perhaps he's not as handsome as he's been made out to be," comforted Ida.
Christina came in. She said: "So you'll be the first to be married after all.”
There was talk of nothing else but Charlotte's coming marriage. There was to be no delay. The English were sending Lord Harcourt to Strelitz immediately and as soon as he arrived the proxy ceremony was to take place, and immediately it was over she was to sail for England.
"It seems there is an undue haste," whispered Charlotte to Ida.
"Do you think they are afraid the King will hear the truth and not want me after all?”
"What truth? He's heard the truth.”
"I think they've told him I'm a beauty.”
"Not they. He read your letter and he knows you're a wiseacre. He's more interested in that than a pretty face.”
At least Ida was honest. Charlotte studied her face in her mirror and her misgivings were great.
Homely is the kindest way to describe me, she thought; plain would be more truthful. She hoped that the King did not like pretty women. Why should the King of England select her ... a humble princess of a tiny state without beauty and riches? Ida had the answer.
"Because you're German and Protestant. There are other princesses in Europe, but don't forget they're all Catholics ... and they're not German. English Kings ever since George the First always marry Germans.”
"And I can't speak his language.”
"Never mind, he'll speak yours. Remember, he's German too.”
"That's a comfort. But I expect I shall have to learn to speak English. Oh, Ida, it's a terrible thought. I shall leave home. I shall live in a strange country for the rest of my life.”
She looked at Ida. She would doubtless leave her too, for it was hardly likely that she would be allowed to take Ida with her.
"It's better than living here, Princess... doing the same thing every day. Why, you've never dined publicly yet. You haven't been living royally at all.”
"I know, but now I feel I want to go on as I have been for a little longer at least. I wonder if Christina will come to England with me." Her face lightened. "Of course she will. She will marry and we'll go together ... perhaps we'll be married together. That will be a comfort. I shan't be alone after all." She was serious suddenly. "I can't help thinking though, Ida, that there is something extraordinary about all this. I am so humble and he is the King of England... and it is all so sudden.”
And although Ida did her best to comfort her, Charlotte could not rid herself of the idea that there was something strange about this good fortune which had been thrust upon her so unexpectedly and the speedy manner in which affairs were being hurried to their climax.