He had kept his word; he had had her instructed during three years, and then sent her to Paris, in order to give her the last polish, the tournure of the world, however much it had cost him to separate from her, or might embarrass him, with his scanty means, to afford the increase of expense.

A year elapsed and Wilhelmine returned a pleasing lady, familiar with the tone of the great world, and at home in its manners and customs.
The prince had kept his word--that which he had promised her as he took her from her sister's house, to make her a fine, accomplished lady.

And when he repeated to her now "Come," could she refuse him--him to whom she owed every thing, whom she loved as her benefactor, her teacher, her friend, and lover?
She followed him, and concealed herself for him in the modest little dwelling at Potsdam.

For him she lived in solitude, anxiously avoiding to show herself publicly, that the king should never know of her existence, and in his just anger sever the unlawful tie which bound her to the Prince of Prussia.

[Footnote: "Memoirs of the Countess Lichtenau," p.