want you to meet him, but you are in one of your bad humors
to-day. Perhaps I'll find Schoenau in the arrow-room. I'll go and look at
any rate."

He left his friend abruptly, and did indeed set out for the
arrow-saloon, where the duke and duchess were, and where he hoped to
find Adelheid von Wallmoden. Unhappily for him, just at the entrance of
the room, he was once more entrapped by his aunt, who pointed
imperiously to a chair by her side. She wanted to hear all there was to
be told about the handsome and interesting young Roumanian, who had
quite won her heart, she said, and her uneasy nephew was obliged to
possess his soul in patience as he answered her many questions.

The noise and the merriment were at their height, as Hartmut now
threaded his way alone among the throng. He also sought someone, but he
was more fortunate than Prince Egon; casting a fleeting glance into the
tower-room, the entrance to which was almost hidden by portieres and
exotics, he saw the edge of a white satin train which swept the floor,
and in the next second he stood upon the threshold.

Adelheid von Wallmoden still sat on the same spot where her husband had
left her. She turned her head slowly now as some one entered.

Suddenly she sat erect, and then returned the young man's deep obeisance
with her accustomed icy bow.

"Have I disturbed you, baroness?" he asked. "I fear you sought this
room for quiet, and my intrusion was unintentional, I assure you."

"I only sought a cool place; the heat of the larger rooms seems almost
suffocating."

"I came for a like reason, but as I have not had an opportunity to greet
you before to-day, my dear madame, permit me to do so now." The words
sounded very formal. Rojanow had come a step nearer as he spoke, but he
still remained at a respectful distance. No movement of hers since he
entered had escaped him, and a singular smile lay in his eyes as he
looked steadily at the young wife.

She had made a motion as if to rise and depart, but the thought that
such a sudden course could only be constructed into flight, restrained
her in time. So she leaned back in her chair again and bent over a
branch of great purple-red camelias.

As she plucked a blossom, she answered his question carelessly enough,
but her face had assumed the same look of determination and force which
it wore the morning on which she stood for a second in the middle of the
forest brook. Then she had stepped knee deep into the wate