you well enough to understand
that you and I are very much of the same opinion concerning her,
nevertheless."

"Well, and if we are--would you consider it a breach of friendship on my
part?"

"Not in this instance. For the object is unattainable by either of us."

"Unattainable?" an ironical smile played around Rojanow's lips.

"Yes, Hartmut," said the young prince, half in earnest, half in jest,
"the lovely, cold northern light, as you have named her, remains true to
its nature. It gleams on the horizon distant and unapproachable, and the
icy sea above which it shines is not to be broken through. The lady has
no heart. She is free from every feeling of passion, and that is what
gives her her enviable security. Here you must acknowledge all your
influence, all your boasted powers are frustrated by that icy breath;
you are chilled through, and so you keep your distance."

Hartmut was silent. He was thinking of the moment in the tower room when
he had begged for the bright blossom. She had refused him, but no icy
breath had enveloped the young wife while she stood trembling beneath
his pleading glance and words. He had seen her daily since then, but
had seldom gone near her, but he knew that now, as before, she was under
his influence.

"But, in spite of it all, I cannot tear myself loose from this foolish
fascination," Egon went on in a dreamy tone. "It always seems to me that
the ice and snow will disappear as if by magic, and warmth and light
burst out in full bloom in their stead. If Adelheid von Wallmoden were
still free--I believe I'd try the experiment."

Rojanow, who had been lost in thought as he gazed steadily into the mist
which yet shrouded the hills, turned around suddenly and violently now.

"What experiment? Do you mean by that, you'd offer her your hand?"

"That thought seems to excite you greatly," said the prince, laughing
out loud. "Yes, that's precisely what I mean. I have no such prejudice
against trade as my respected aunt, who would go into convulsions over
the very thought, and even you don't seem to take to the idea any too
kindly. Well, you can both calm yourselves, his excellency her husband,
has already secured the prize, and he'll never change her into a
creature of warmth and light with those tiresome diplomatic speeches of
his--but the man is happy; he has had no end of good luck."

"Call no man happy until his death," said Hartmut, half-aloud.

"A very wise remark, only not quit