ss with which he spoke of things, made me sad; but
something else made me glad. Throughout his whole letter there breathed
a passion, a warmth--restrained, but glowing through its bond of
reticent words--an eagerness which he told me that at last

"As I loved, loved am I."

Even after that sail down the river I had felt a half mistrust, now all
doubts were removed. He loved me. He had learned it in all its truth and
breadth since we last parted. He talked of renunciation, but it was with
an anguish so keen as to make me wince for him who felt it. If he tried
to renounce me now, it would not be the cold laying aside of a thing for
which he did not care, it would be the wrenching himself away from his
heart's desire. I triumphed in the knowledge, and this was what made me
glad.

Almost before we had finished breakfast in the morning, there came a
thundering of wheels up to the door, and a shriek of excitement from
Frau Mittendorf, who, _morgenhaube_ on her head, a shapeless old
morning-gown clinging hideously about her ample figure, rushed to the
window, looked out, and announced the carriage of the Frau Graefin.
"_Aber!_ What can she want at this early hour?" she speculated, coming
into the room again and staring at us both with wide open eyes round
with agitation and importance. "But I dare say she wishes to consult me
upon some matter. I wish I were dressed more becomingly. I have
heard--that is, I know, for I am so intimate with her--that she never
wears _neglige_. I wonder if I should have time to--"

She stopped to hold out her hand for the note which a servant was
bringing in; but her face fell when the missive was presented to me.

"LIEBE MAI"--it began--"Will you come and help me in my trouble?
Sigmund is very ill. Sometimes he is delirious. He calls for you
often. It breaks my heart to find that after all not a word is
uttered of us, but only of Eugen (burn this when you have read it),
of you, and of 'Karl,' and 'Friedhelm,' and one or two other names
which I do not know. I fear this petition will sound troublesome to
you, who were certainly not made for trouble, but you are kind. I
saw it in your face. I grieve too much. Truly the flesh is
fearfully weak. I would live as if earth had no joys for me--as
indeed it has none--and yet that does not prevent my suffering. May
God help me! Trusting to you, Your,

"HILDEGARDE v. ROTHEN