Then the world ran away in pursuit of other adventures, and forgot all about her serene highness.
And was she happy with all this grandeur, with all these lackeys and attentions and environs?
Who can say?
Sometimes she longed for the freedom and lack-care of her Dresden garret, her musician friends, the studios, the crash and glitter of the opera.

To be suddenly deprived of the fruits of ambition, to reach such a pinnacle without striving, to be no longer independent, somehow it was all tasteless with the going of the novelty.
She looked like a princess, she moved and acted like one, but after the manner of kindly fairy princesses in story-books.

All fell in love with her, from the groom who saddled her horse, to the chancellor, who up to this time was known never to have loved anything but the state.
She was lovely enough to inspire fervor and homage and love in all masculine minds.

She was witty and talented.

Carmichael said she was one of the most beautiful women in Europe.