ever she got well, she sent for her brother, who
took her straight away with him to Prague,
where she remained, and always after lived
separate from her husband. As for him, he
used to spend most of his time at Vienna, leading
an awful life with companions as wicked as
himself: he delighted in being surrounded with
wild young men, and never rested till he had
made them as godless as he was. About seven
years after I married and settled at Altheim,
and while the count was away, travelling about
in foreign parts, the countess died. She had not
been in her grave four months, when a letter
arrived for Mr. Hartmann, the count's agent,
who lived in Altheim, announcing his speedy
arrival; he had married again, and was going to
bring his bride home, and the house was to be
got ready without delay. We were astonished
at the news, for the count was fifty-five years
old, and no one had ever thought he would have
married again.

"Shortly after this, some of the servants began
to arrive at the castle, and by-and-by reports
got spread abroad that it was a young lady of
seventeen whom he was going to bring to that
dreary home. There was a great deal of talk
about it; some said that it was a good thing
for the country that my lord should come back,
and that the castle should be inhabited; others
said that he and his profligate companions and
loose servants did more harm than good in the
place, spreading corruption: moreover, he had
no bowels for the poor, and oppressed and
ground down all who were dependent upon him.
But we all were sorry for the poor young lady
who had come so far away from her own land,
and her own people, to live amongst us. When
my lord's secretary, Johann Wild, arrived at
last to see that all was straight, he told us more
about it. The young countess was a Polish
lady of great family, but without any fortune;
and her parents had driven her into this marriage
because the count, who had fallen in love with
her for her beauty, had consented to take her
without a dower. Mr. Wild told me they had
had sad work to bring her to it, and that she
looked more dead than alive on the wedding-day,
which did not please the count.

"They arrived late one night in May, and the
next morning my husband was sent for tip to
the castle. The countess was tired with her
journey, and had a slight attack of fever. Count
Berchtold met him on the stairs, and took him
at once into her room; she was very lovely, and
quite young, as they had said. The count took
him up to the bedside; her arms were lying
outside upon the coverlet; he took up one of
them, and while he felt it all over, said to my
husband, 'Look at her! There are arms!
There are shoulders!' The poor little lady
coloured scarlet, and turned her head away,
but the count only laughed, and went on, 'See
to her, doctor, see to her, and tell me what
it is that ails her; if it is the son she means to
give me, that shall be good news for you as
well as me.'

"My husband had trouble to get him out of
the room, but at last he went, and then the
poor child burst into tears, and sobbed as if her
heart would break. She was in a frightful state
of excitement, and could not be persuaded to
speak for a long while; but by degrees, seeing
how patient and gentle my husband was, she
quieted down at last. We afterwards heard
that she had not known of the recent death of
the former countess, and that, on arriving, she
had received a great shock at finding all the
servants assembled in the hall to meet her, clad
in the deepest mourning: she told my husband
besides, that coming from a smiling country,
and belonging to a large family, the loneliness
and desolate look of the castle had frightened
her: she was evidently terribly afraid, too, of her
lord; this she did not say to him, but my husband
saw it.

"They had already been married more than
two months, and there seemed to be little doubt
as to her condition: the count was wild for joy
when my husband told him this; he sent for
some rare Hungarian wine, and tossed down
glass after glass, making my husband drink with
him to the health of the heir. My husband had
seen in this short visit how nervous and excitable
the timid young wife was, and tried to impress
upon the count's mind that gentleness and perfect
quiet were absolutely necessary for her
health and for that of her child; but teach a
wild beast to be gentle! The house was soon
filled again with riotous guests, and my husband
was repeatedly called in to see the countess,
whose senses seemed actually to be leaving her,
so great was her distress at finding herself helpless
and alone in such strange company. She
had been taken straight out of the convent to be
married, and this wild life put her beside herself
with terror. Her husband, who soon had got
wearied of her, angered by her refusals to join
in his godless revelry, used to jeer and mock at
her before his servants, and often would force
her, ill as she was, to come down and assist at
his orgies. Her nerves were completely shaken,
and my husband began seriously to fear for her
reason.

"At last her hour of trouble came. My
husband was sent for early in the evening, and
finding her state alarming, remained with her
all night. The count had been drinking very
deep, and they tried in vain to keep him out of
the apartment: he would be there—opposition
only infuriated him, and increased his wife's
danger. After many hours of dreadful suffering,
towards five in the morning her baby was
born. 'Show me my son!' shouted the count,
springing from his chair to the bedside. It was a
feeble, puny, wailing little girl. In a paroxysm of
speechless rage, he rushed at his helpless wife,
and shaking her violently, dashed her back upon
the bed. My husband called for help, and they
forced the count away from the room. The poor
thing had fainted. No nurse had been provided,
for she had meant to nurse her little one herself,
and there it lay, hungry, and wailing piteously,
by its mother's side. My husband took the
baby in his arms, and going with it to the