eighbourhood in the cool of the evening, when at
the same moment a singular scene displayed itself. The old Baron had
already several times approached Dorothea, who however had avoided him,
but he took advantage of the moment when he was helping her into the
carriage, to whisper some friendly words into her ear; she sprang back,
got hastily away from the coach, and ran down the shaded walk. The
Baron could not overtake her in spite of all his efforts; when he was
at the bottom of the garden, she came back out of breath, threw her
veil over her heated face, and wept bitterly as she timidly shrank from
the interrogating and reproving glances of her more than astonished
mother. The carriage drove rapidly off, and the Baron, after he had
taken a confused and embarrassed leave of his young friends got into
his own, severely mortified, as his looks shewed, notwithstanding his
attempts at a forced composure.

When the young counsellor and the officer were on their way back to the
city, the former said after a pause, "What was that? I cannot recover
from my surprize, that, among persons of such refinement and delicacy,
so indecorous a scene could have occurred! In fact, how comes this
girl, this singular, even repulsive character, into a family, which I
should be almost inclined to call a holy one? Some deep culpability
must bow her down, that she always shrinks timidly back, never takes a
share in the conversation, and is treated too by all the rest with a
condescending, almost a contemptuous pity, which is very striking to a
stranger. One is forced into scandalous conjectures, however little one
may be inclined to suspicion."

"You would however be mistaken," said his military friend, "for no
fault, no offence bows this being down. Among persons of such lofty
character as all these are, a failure of that sort might perhaps be
repaired without any great struggle, did there but subsist a harmony of
soul, in other respects, between this sister and the rest. But the
worst of all is, that she was born with a more groveling ignoble
spirit, that does not comprehend the aim of all the rest, and still is
forced to confess that it is something lofty and noble, only for her
unattainable. This feeling of unworthiness depresses her more than the
consciousness of a fault could do. She feels herself an alien among her
nearest relations, a stranger in her own house; she seeks relief in the
company of her unworthy acquaintances, of that purs