say. It was almost more wonderful that she
should have fallen in love with the count than
that he should have fallen in love with her; but
she was full of fancies, and I suspect that at the
particular time when the count made his offer she
had a fancy that she ought to be allied to a man
older than herself, whom she could look up to,
and so on. At all events, she loved her husband,
and went away to the old château, full of happy
anticipations.

"Alas, poor child, she had either miscalculated
her forces, or had not made any calculations at
all, in her whole life. At first it was all very well.
There was the old castle to examine, and all its
queer ins and outs to explore. There was novelty
over all, and it was a pleasure to sport about her
sober, middle-aged husband, and lighten him up
with her almost childish frolics. Sometimes, it
is true, even at first, it would happen that
misgivings would come into her mind as she thought
over the future—misgivings as to how she was to
fill up the time between that present hour and
the distant period when age should have begun
to tame her down and make that quiet, which she
now hated, palatable and even delightful to her.
Still, such thoughts as these held but unfrequent
sway, and troubled her but little—at first.

"Time passed—time, that tries our strength
so relentlessly— time, the only test—time, that
shows the metal we are made of, whether it is
gold, or iron, or paltry foil, or tinsel lacquer, or
dross. Time passed, and Countess Vordenberg
began to mope, and to complain that her very
heart was weary. Heaven knows," continued
Madame Stortzer, as she glanced up at the
memorandums of her many engagements in their
place over the stove, " Heaven knows, I do not
blame her. Of course she ought to have remembered
that she had committed herself to this life
for better or worse, that she had married her
husband because she loved him, that she had had
a miserable home before, which was indeed the
case, from which she wished at any price to get
away, and that now it behoved her to make the
very best of the life on which she had entered.
No doubt this would have been only right, but
still, living such a different existence as I do, I
dare not blame her for not being more resigned
and contented in the old castle at Reigersfeldt.

"And her husband. It is a question how far
he was to blame in not trying to accommodate
himself and his habits to the requirements of his
wife's nature. When two people enter on
marriage they each sign a contract which demands
of each some amount of concession to the other's
peculiar requirements. No doubt, if the count
had chosen, he might very much more have
mitigated the dulness of which his wife complained.
There was society to be had in the neighbourhood
if he had cultivated it, instead of rejecting the
overtures of well-meaning people whose visits
bothered him, and interrupted him in the pursuit
of his studies. There were amusements, too, in the
town, on the very outskirts of which the castle
stood. There were balls. There was an opera,
and a playhouse. But the count was lazy, and
hated the trouble of going out. Sometimes,
indeed— for the count loved, with an affection
that had something of the parental in it, 'the
disturber of his peace,' as he called his wife—
sometimes he would, for a day or two, take
compassion on her dulness, and make the great effort
of going out to dine with some of their nearest
neighbours, a family, the head of which, a certain
General Bremner, was one of his oldest friends.
But it was very rarely— only two or three times
in a year—that he could be persuaded to make
even this concession to ordinary sociability.

"It was on the occasion of one of these visits
to the general's that the count happened to be
seated next an officer in the army who had just
arrived to take temporary command of the depôt
quartered in the town of Reigersfeldt. He was
a young and singularly handsome man, with a
peculiar force and authority expressed in his
demeanour, which his youth rendered the more
remarkable. That youth of his was, however,
enough for the count, who had a general idea that
all young men were fools; so he simply devoted
himself to his neighbour on the other side, who
was a learned doctor of the town, and ready to
talk of chemistry and science generally, to any
extent the count liked, introducing long words
enough to interfere with his very digestion.

"It happened that in the course of that dinner
the conversation got upon some excavations,
which had been made in a distant part of the
country, and which had led to some rather
remarkable discoveries of an archæological nature.
The young officer seated next to the count had
been present when these discoveries were made,
and now launched out into some account of all that
he had seen and heard in connexion with the
subject. Nothing could exceed the count's surprise,
unless it was his delight, as he listened to these
particulars, and as he discovered that the young
man, of whom he had conceived so slightingly, was
not only well informed on this particular matter,
but was thoroughly acquainted with other
antiquarian subjects. The learned doctor, the count's
other neighbour, was deserted altogether, and
during the remaining time that the company was
at table, the count and his new friend were
continually engaged in conversation, which to the
older man, whatever it might have been to the
younger, was of the most surpassing interest.
Naturally enough, in the course of it, an invitation
was given to the young officer to ride over,
when occasion served, and inspect the different
curiosities which the count had got together in
his own private cabinet. That invitation was
accepted.

"Lieutenant Bergfeldt"— I started at that
name, though I had guessed what was coming—
"Lieutenant Bergfeldt had more ways than one
of rendering himself welcome at the castle.
Besides being able to talk to the count upon scientific
matters, he was always at the service of the
countess, and was always prepared to be her
escort whenever a protector was necessary to her.