"Oh, permit us to sun ourselves in your rays, ma toute belle," said the Countess Moltke. "One could well fancy themselves in a fairy palace, so enchanting is everything here.""And the baroness's appearance confirms this impression," remarked the gallant Frenchman. "Fancy could not well paint a more lovely fairy in one's happiest dreams.""Yes, truly I wander around as if in an enchanted scene. I feel as if I must seize myself by the head and be well shaken, to convince myself that I am really awake and not dreaming a chapter from Aladdin. I made the effort, but felt the wreath of roses in my hair, and--""And that convinced you of your wakefulness," said the baroness, a little haughtily. Turning to the ambassador, she added: "Do you observe, monsieur le marquis, what a delicate attention this lady shows me in wearing a wreath of flowers which I manufactured?""Comment! The baroness is truly a fairy! She causes flowers to grow at her pleasure, and vies with Nature. It seems impossible. I can scarcely believe it.""And yet it is true," said Frau von Morien. "The baroness, indeed, fabricated these roses three years since, when she had the kindness to work for me. You will acknowledge that I have kept them well?""It was no kindness of mine, but a necessity," said the baroness, "and I must confess that I would not have undertaken so troublesome a piece of work from pure goodness or pleasure. You will remember that I was very poor before my marriage, and as Frau von Morien was one of my customers, it is very natural that she possesses my flowers. She gave me many orders, and paid me a very small price, for she is very practical and prudent, and understands bargaining and cheapening, and when one is poor they are obliged to yield to the shameless parsimony of the rich. I thank you, my dear benefactress, for the honor you have shown me in wearing my flowers, for it has been a pleasant occasion to explain ourselves and recognize each other. Have the kindness to recall other remembrances of the past.""I do not remember possessing any other souvenirs," replied the countess, confused.
Have you forgotten that I gave French lessons to your niece, the present Frau von Hohenthal? She came to me three times weekly, because the lessons were a few groschen cheaper at the house."At this instant the usher announced in a loud voice, "Professor Philip Moritz."A gentleman of slight proportions, in an elegant fashionable dress, appeared and remained standing in the doorway, his large black eyes wandering searchingly through the drawing-room. Herr von Ebenstreit approached, extending him his hand, uttering a few unintelligible words, which his guest appeared not to notice, but, slightly inclining, asked if he would present him to the lady of the house.
"Have the kindness to follow me," said Ebenstreit, leading Moritz through the circle of jesting, slandering ladies and gentlemen, to the centre of the room, where Marie was still standing with the French ambassador and the two ladies.
"My dear," said her husband, "I have brought you an old acquaintance, Professor Moritz."As Ebenstreit would retreat, Moritz commanded him to remain, placing his white-gloved hand upon his arm, and holding him fast. "I would ask you one question before I speak with the baroness."Moritz spoke so loud, and in such a strange, harsh, and repulsive manner, that every one turned astonished, asking himself what it meant. Conversation was hushed, and the curious pressed toward the peculiar group in the centre to the baroness, who regarded her husband perfectly composed, and the pale man, with the flashing eyes, the glance of which pierced her like daggers.
A breathless silence reigned, broken only by Ebenstreit's trembling voice. "What is it, professor? How can I serve you?""Tell me who you are?" replied Moritz, with a gruff laugh.
"I am the Baron Ebenstreit von Leuthen!"
"And the scar which you bear upon your face, is it not the mark of a whip, with which I lashed a certain Herr Ebenstreit three years since, who prevented my eloping with my betrothed? I challenged him to fight a duel, but the coward refused me satisfaction, and then Istruck him in the face, causing the blood to flow. Answer me--are you this gentleman?"Not a sound interrupted the fearfully long pause which followed.
Every one turned astonished to Ebenstreit, who, pale as death, was powerless to utter a word, but stood staring at his opponent.
"Why do you not answer me?" cried Moritz, stamping his foot. "Are you the coward? Was this red scar caused by the whip-lash?"Another long pause ensued, and a distinctly audible voice was heard, saying, "Yes, it is he!""Who replied to me?" asked Moritz, turning his angry glance away from Ebenstreit.
"I," said Marie. "I reply for my husband!""You? Are you the wife of this man?" thundered Moritz.
"I am," Marie answered.
"Is this invitation directed to me from you?" he continued, drawing a paper from his pocket. "Did you permit yourself to invite me to your house?""Yes, I did," she calmly answered.
"And by what right, madame? This is the question I wish answered, and I came here for that purpose.""I invited you because I desired to see you.""Shameless one!" cried Moritz, furious.
"Sir," cried the ambassador, placing himself before Moritz, defying his anger, "you forget that you are speaking to a lady. As her husband is silent, I declare myself her knight, and I will not suffer her to be injured by word or look.
"How can you hinder me?" cried Moritz, with scorn. "What will you do if I dash this paper at her feet, and forbid her to ever write my name again?" Making a ball of it, he suited the action to the word, casting a defiant look at the marquis.
"I shall order the footmen to thrust you out of the house. Here, servants, remove this man; he is an escaped lunatic, undoubtedly."Two footmen pressed forward through the circle which crowded around Moritz.
"Whoever touches me, death to him!" thundered Moritz, laying his hand upon a small sword at his side.
