ad taken a newspaper from the table and seemed to
be attentively reading it. He did not know why the regular features and
faultless figure caused him so much dissatisfaction, and at the same
time awakened a sort of compassion. He too had bowed in silence and now
sank into the arm chair the beautiful girl had drawn forward with
friendly solicitude.

He was now sitting opposite her, but at first could find no words with
which to begin a conversation, he was so completely captivated by her
face. In spite of Edwin's descriptions, he had not imagined her so
beautiful and elegant, had not supposed that the tone of her voice and
the expression of her dark eyes were so gentle and innocent. She seemed
to attribute his silence to exhaustion caused by unusual exertion and
left him to rest for a time, while she rang for the boy and ordered
some sugar and water. Then she again turned toward him and in the most
cordial manner questioned him concerning his health, and what remedies
the doctor had ordered.

His only reply was to express his thanks for the friendly interest she
had shown him during the past few weeks, and tell in how many delirious
dreams the palms had played a part, and what pleasure they had afforded
him in his hours of consciousness. At first his manner was hesitating
and embarrassed, but when he noticed the sarcastic smile on the face of
the count, who sat opposite him without uttering a syllable, he
suddenly shook off his diffidence and gave utterance to so many bright
and clever ideas that Toinette thought him very attractive, and frankly
told him that his brother had slandered him, when he described him as a
misanthropic hermit. She hoped to see him more frequently now; she was
angry with him for having waited till he had been seriously ill before
finding the way to her, and he might as well confess that the only
reason he had not joined the party to Charlottenburg, was because he
was prejudiced against her. Who could tell how Edwin might have
slandered her too. She said all this in such a gay tone, that Balder
was secretly amazed. Was it coldness of heart or self-control, that
enabled her to speak of Edwin as if nothing had occurred between them,
as if he would come to her again to-morrow and renew the old
intercourse? Absorbed in this reflection he again became silent, and
she also lost her gayety.

"You were going to say something more," she began after a pause. "I saw
you repress the words that were hoveri