‘This,’ said Ida, ‘is an end to the dull existence. Now they will find husbands for us, you see.’

She was right. So much time had been lost, mused the Duchess Eleanor. The girls were no longer very young. She consulted with her ministers. They must make up for lost time. They must find husbands for them without delay.

The Duke of Weimar was young, handsome and not ineligible. He was Governor of Ghent and from this post derived the greater part of his income. They would invite him to the castle and there he could meet Adelaide and perhaps if he were agreeable the marriage could be arranged.

If it were not the most brilliant of matches it would be a comforting one, at least, mused the Duchess, for Weimar was not so far distant from Saxe-Meiningen that there could not be frequent visits and Adelaide was a girl who loved her home and family dearly. Eleanor would not wish her to be too far away.

There was excitement throughout the castle. The seamstresses were busy. There were beautiful gowns for the Princesses and particularly for Adelaide.

She felt nervous and shy.

He will be very disappointed when he sees me, she thought; but she did not mention it even to Ida.

Those rooms in the castle where soldiers had been billeted were repainted and refurnished. The Duke of Weimar’s suite must be adequately housed.

‘What an important visit this is!’ cried Ida with a chuckle. She was excited because she knew that her turn would come.

The Duchess seemed happier than she had since the death of her husband; she was sure they had left the dark days behind. Bernhard was now sixteen – in two years’ time he would be of age; then there would be no need for a Regency and Saxe-Meiningen would have its reigning Duke. And the girls would be married – Adelaide first and then Ida – both into neighbouring dukedoms, so that they need not be distantly separated.

The girls were watching from the turret windows; soon the cavalcade must come into sight and at the head of it would ride the Duke of Weimar. ‘Do you remember how we used to look from this window and see the soldiers coming?’ said Ida.

Adelaide nodded.

‘This is rather different, eh, sister?’ Ida was chuckling with excitement. ‘Suitors are more fun than soldiers. Ugh! That awful war. Those bandages! I shall never forget them. I wonder what he will be like.’

‘Who?’

‘The Duke of Weimar, of course. His name is Bernhard the same as our brother’s. I long to see him. Do you think he will be handsome?’

‘I hope not … too handsome.’

‘Why ever not? People should be as handsome as it is possible to be. The more handsome the better.’

Not when they have a plain bride waiting for them, thought Adelaide.

She could scarcely bear to look, yet she was as eager to see as Ida was. Let him be kind, she prayed. Let him not ask too much.

‘Do you know,’ said Ida, ‘I fancy I can see something in the distance. Is it? Yes … I’m sure. Look, sister.’

They strained their eyes to see. It was indeed the outriders of the cavalcade in the livery of the House of Weimar – brilliantly colourful among the trees.

Ida gripped her sister’s hand in excitement.

‘Adelaide,’ she cried. ‘They’re here. They’re here.’

Her eyes were brilliant; there was a faint colour in her cheeks; she was beautiful.

One of their women was coming up to the turret.

‘You know what this is,’ said Ida. ‘Mamma has sent for us to go down. We must be ready to greet the Duke when he arrives. Am I presentable?’

‘Very. Am I?’

‘You always are. Always neat. Always tidy. Dear Adelaide, you are such a pattern of virtue. What shall I do when you are gone? I shall deteriorate … rapidly, I fear. There will be no good example for me to follow.’

The woman had entered.

‘I know! I know!’ cried Ida. ‘We are to come down and be ready to greet the Duke when he arrives.’

He had leaped from his horse, a commanding figure, six feet four inches tall. He came forward to greet the Duchess Eleanor who gave him her hand to kiss.

‘You must allow me to present my son to you.’

The Dukes of Weimar and Saxe-Meiningen bowed.

‘And my daughters,’ went on the Duchess.

They stood on either side of her – Adelaide the plain and Ida the beautiful.

The Duke of Weimar looked from one to the other.

‘The elder, the Princess Adelaide,’ said the Duchess.

Again that bow.

‘And the Princess Ida.’

Once more he bowed and his eyes rested on Ida and lingered there.

The Duchess took his hand and led him into the castle, and it was as Adelaide had known it would be. He could not take his eyes from Ida, nor she from him.

The Duchess Eleanor called her ministers to the castle.

‘The Duke of Weimar is asking for the hand of the Princess Ida,’ she told them.

‘Would it not be more agreeable if the Princess Adelaide married first?’

‘It would have pleased me better, but the Duke of Weimar asked for Ida. It is a good match and we cannot with wisdom refuse it.’

It would be the utmost folly to, since if the Duke of Weimar could not have Ida he would certainly not take Adelaide.

‘It is an excellent match for a younger daughter,’ said the Duchess; ‘and what pleases me is that neither the Princess Ida nor the Duke would have to be persuaded to it. They are more eager than we could hope. In fact they declare they are in love.’

In the circumstances it seemed that there was only one thing lacking to make the young couple completely happy and that was the consent of the Duchess and her ministers.

That consent was readily given, although every one of them believed it would have been more fitting for the elder princess to marry first.

‘Adelaide!’ cried Ida, throwing herself at her sister.

‘What is it? You’re crying.’

‘Such odd tears. I’m so happy … and yet I’m so sad.’

‘How can that be?’

‘Oh, Adelaide, dearest Adelaide, I don’t know what to say to you. They … they have given their consent. Bernhard and I are to be married.’

‘Well, what is that to cry about?’

‘Oh, sister, my dearest Adelaide, you really don’t mind?’

‘Mind … but I am delighted to see you so happy.’

‘I … I shall marry before you.’

‘And so you should because you are so pretty.’

‘But he was to have been for you.’

‘Being very sensible he fell in love with you instead. I can’t say I blame him. As a matter of fact if he had not done so I should have thought there was something lacking in him.’

‘Oh really… Adelaide … you are not … furious!’

Adelaide laughed. ‘Did you really think I should be?’

‘No,’ admitted Ida. ‘Even if you had loved him, which I trust you don’t.’

‘No, my dear Ida. I do not think I should fall in love so easily. I should need to know someone for years and years.’

‘Yes, I believe you would. You are so calm and wise and good. And I am wildly happy, Adelaide, if you are not unhappy about this I am the happiest woman in the world.’

‘Then you are indeed the happiest woman in the world.’

Ida had pressed her face against her sister’s. She was always so impulsive.

‘Now, I shall ask your advice … about my wedding dress, my jewels … everything. Because you always tell the truth. So if you were really unhappy you would have to say so. But then you might not because you are also unselfish and you might think you would spoil my happiness. Oh, Adelaide, do you really mean this?’

‘I mean it. I don’t want to marry. I hope I never do. I hope I stay here with Mamma and Bernhard – my Bernhard not yours – for the rest of my life. I begin to think that is what I really want. I am sure no man would really want to marry me any more than your Bernhard did.’

‘It’s nonsense. He would have fallen in love with you if I had not been here. I’m sure of it, because someone will love you one day – very much. I am the sort of person they fall in love with – you are the sort they grow to love. One day someone will love you as I do and Mamma does and our Bernhard does. That’s because we know you.’

‘Ida, you are growing hysterical.’

‘Dear Adelaide, you are always so calm, so good.’

The wedding was to take place immediately for there was no point in delay, said the Duchess. Ida was intoxicated with happiness; the seamstresses were working at full speed in that room at the castle which had been set aside for them and the whole of Saxe-Meiningen was talking about the wedding.

The great day came; the bells rang out; the bride was a vision of beauty in her shimmering gown and jewels and even Adelaide looked handsome on that day with the jewels in her hair and the gown which had been made for her to wear at her sister’s wedding.

‘Your turn next,’ said her brother Bernhard; and she laughingly shook her head.

The Duchess told herself that they must busy themselves with finding a husband for Adelaide; it was not right that the younger sister should marry before the elder.

The wedding celebrations continued for two days with festivities in the town, fireworks and illuminations; it was as exciting as the victory celebrations. When Ida and her husband left for Weimar Adelaide ran to the turret to watch them until they were out of sight.

How she missed Ida! She could not remember ever being separated from her before. The castle seemed quieter; she would often think: I must go and tell that to Ida, and then remember that Ida was not there.

The Duchess watched her daughter anxiously. Adelaide was twenty-four. It was not really very young and she looked her age. That cursed Napoleon! thought the Duchess. Precious years had been wasted because of his selfish desires for conquest.