hat for some time she had perceived my approach,
and she looked up at me with a face that was half merry, half
inquisitive, and perfectly charming. I cannot describe the effect which
her expression had upon me. I had never seen her before, but her look
was not such a one as she would bestow upon a stranger. I had the most
powerful desire to stop and speak to her, but having no right to do so,
I should have passed on, had she not said to me, in the best of English,
'Good-morning, sir.' Then I stopped, you may be sure. I was so
accustomed to speak to those I meet in either French or German that I
involuntarily said to her,'_Bon jour, Mademoiselle_.'--'You need not
speak French,' she said; 'I am neither English nor American, but I speak
English. Are you the gentleman who lives in Wulrick Castle? If so, we
are neighbours, and I wish you would tell me why you live there all the
time alone.'

"At this I sat down by her. 'I am that person,' I said, and handed her
my card. 'But before I say any more, please tell me who you are.'--'I am
Marie Dorfler. My father's house is on the other side of this piece of
woodland; you cannot see it from here; this is part of his estate. And
now tell me why you live all by yourself in that old ruin.'--'It is not
altogether a ruin,' I answered; 'part of it is in very good condition.'
And then I proceeded to give her an account of my method of life and my
reasons for it. 'It is interesting,' she said, 'but it is very odd.'--'I
do not think it half so odd,' I answered, 'as that you should be here by
yourself.'--'That is truly an out-of-the-way sort of thing,' she said;
'but just now I am doing out-of-the-way things. If I do not do them now,
I shall never have the opportunity again. In two weeks I shall be
married, and then I shall go to Prague, and everything will be by line
and rule. No more delightful rambles by myself. No more sitting quietly
in the woods watching the little birds and hares. No more making a
sketch just where I please, no matter whether the ground be damp or
not.'--'I wonder that you are allowed to do these things now,' I
said.--'I am not allowed,' she answered. 'I do them in hours when I am
supposed to be painting flower pieces in an upper room.'--'But when
you're married,' I said, 'your husband will be your companion in such
rambles.'--'Hardly,' she said, shrugging her shoulders; 'he will be
forty-seven on the thirteenth of next month, which I believe is July,
and he is a gre