e. It had not been long, thanks to the
freedom of the masquerade, before they stood on so familiar a footing
as to call each other "Du;" and the startling incident that drove
Jansen away from the ball so early had broken down the last trace of
reserve in the friendship between them. They had remained together for
a few hours longer. Julie, to whom Jansen had disclosed in a single
word the mystery of the strange mask, had made no secret of the matter
to her friends, among whom Irene was now counted.

She herself, while taking the occurrence greatly to heart, saw at once
how much nearer the final crisis it had brought her. But the thought
that she must leave him to fight out alone the battle that could not be
avoided, was torture to her.

She wanted at least to be near him, to know every hour what he was
doing, and, if it should be necessary, to be ready to restrain him from
taking any violent steps. His withdrawing from her--although she knew
that he had only done it to spare her--gave her great pain, and she
felt now as if she knew for the first time how much she loved him.

In this mood she presented herself before Irene, who received her most
tenderly. Felix, who had taken occasion to call as early as possible in
the morning, had just taken his leave again, and the eyes and cheeks of
the girl still glowed with the happiness of their reunion. The two
friends had so much to confide to one another that they did not notice
how the hours slipped by, and were very much surprised when the uncle,
who, as a rule, never appeared before dinner-time, entered the room.
Irene introduced him to Julie, and would not listen to such a thing as
her going home to dinner.

The baron seconded her in her hospitable entreaties in his usual
chivalrous manner; though he seemed not to be in as good spirits as was
usual when he found himself in the presence of a beautiful lady. During
the meal, also, he was noticeably depressed and preoccupied, keeping
remarkably silent for him, sighing a great deal, and complaining of old
age, which must overtake even the youngest uncles at last. Then again
he would try to laugh, or tell one of his old _bonmots_; but he soon
relapsed anew into a droll kind of melancholy, in which he railed at
the uncertain lot of humanity and the mysteries of an irresponsible
Providence.

When, after dinner, Irene was called out of the room by a chance caller
whom she hoped quickly to get rid of, and the baron was left alo