rious confessions, such as
are heard only by a physician or priest, did not give the slightest
intimation that an older affection might be at the bottom of her
mysterious conduct. He took me directly to his study and there gave me
a detailed account of the four years of his married life. He knew that
she became his wife without love. She had not attempted to conceal the
fact from him for a moment, and, madly in love with her, as he was and
unfortunately is to this hour, contented himself with the thought that
he was no more repulsive to her than other men, toward whom she usually
showed a coldness of which he cheerfully bore his share. The old, oft
verified consolation that 'love will come after marriage,' and 'there's
no ice which a real fire can't ultimately melt,' helped him through the
short period of betrothal. Then came the strangeness of her new
surroundings, her struggle with all sorts of hostile elements in his
family, which to be sure resulted in a brilliant victory for the young
plebeian, but which did not exactly win her to greater tenderness. But
to his astonishment, even after marriage, the statue did not grow warm
in his arms. Probably the worthy nobleman lacked many qualities
essential to a Pygmalion. Yet he assured me that, despite her
inflexible coldness and reserve, he had treated her with the utmost
affection and spared her in every way.

"But now comes the strangest part of the tale. A child was born, a
bright boy, yet even this most powerful of all mediators did not
succeed in breaking the ice. Nay, it actually seemed as if the much
desired happy event only estranged the young wife still more. After the
child's birth, the countess, although she continued to live under the
same roof, effected an entire separation from her husband, locked
herself up in her own rooms, which he was never permitted to enter, and
only spoke to him at table, at large entertainments, and at hunting
parties, in which she took the most enthusiastic delight.

"All his efforts to break through this unnatural seclusion were in
vain. Nay, she even extended her aversion to the child, and usually
left it entirely to the nurse. But when, at seven months it suddenly
fell sick with any apparent cause, she didn't leave its bed day or
night and was evidently deeply affected by its death.

"But the expectations of her husband and the old countess that she
would now be softened and feel disposed to resume the old relations
again, were