he
first opportunity."

"You have much to forgive," said she.

"Eugen, you came to see me on business," said his brother.

Eugen turned to me. I turned hot and then cold. This was a terrible
ordeal indeed. He seemed metamorphosed into an exceedingly grand
personage as he came to me, took my hand, and said, very proudly and
very gravely:

"The first part of my business related to Sigmund. It will not need to
be discussed now. The rest was to tell you that this young lady--in
spite of having heard all that could be said against me--was still not
afraid to assert her intention to honor me by becoming my wife and
sharing my fate. Now that she has learned the truth--May, do you still
care for me enough to marry me?"

"If so," interrupted his brother before I could speak, "let me add my
petition and that of my wife--do you allow me, Hildegarde?"

"Indeed, yes, yes!"

"That she will honor us and make us happy by entering our family, which
can only gain by the acquisition of such beauty and excellence."

The idea of being entreated by Graf Bruno to marry his brother almost
overpowered me. I looked at Eugen and stammered out something
inaudible, confused, too, by the look he gave me.

He was changed; he was more formidable now than before, and he led me
silently up to his brother without a word, upon which Count Bruno
crowned my confusion by uttering some more very Grandisonian words and
gravely saluting my cheek. That was certainly a terrible moment, but
from that day to this I have loved better and better my haughty
brother-in-law.

Half in consideration for me, I believe, the countess began:

"But I want to know, Eugen, about this. I don't quite understand yet how
you managed to shift the blame upon yourself."

"Perhaps he does not want to tell," said I, hastily.

"Yes; since the truth is known, I may tell the rest," said he. "It was a
very simple matter. After all was lost, my only ray of comfort was that
I could pay my debts by selling everything, and throwing up my
commission. But when I thought of my wife I felt a devil. I suppose that
is the feeling which the devils do experience in place of love--at least
Heine says so:

"'Die Teufel nennen es Hoellenqual,
Die Menschen nennen es Liebe.'

"I kept it from her as long as I could. It was a week after Sigmund was
born that at last one day I had to tell her. I actually looked to her
for advice, help. It was tolerably presumptuous in me, I must sa