a single decoration on the walls. One of the rooms
served as bedroom, the other as salon. At least it contained no bed,
but a chaise longue instead, a rocking chair, and a table with a jute
cover. The countess was inwardly much amused at Wilhelm's timorous
hesitation in crossing her threshold. She relieved him of his hat and
gave it to Anne, who hung it on a nail with the utmost gravity, but
could not refrain from casting a curious glance at Wilhelm from time to
time.

When the tea was on the table, and Anne had discreetly retired into the
bedroom, closing the door behind her, the countess began: "As we are to
become friends--no, we are friends already; tell me, you are my friend,
are you not?"--she held out her hand, which he pressed warmly and
retained in his--"you ought to know who I am and how I live. I will
tell you the whole truth--I never lie, it is so vulgar and cowardly.
The worst that can be said of me, you shall hear out of my own mouth.
And still I hope that, after you have heard all, you will not feel less
kindly disposed toward me than before."

She moistened her blood-red lips in the tea without leaving hold of his
hand.

"I am married. My husband, Count Pozaldez, is Governor of the
Philippine Islands. I have lived for years in Paris. The count had the
post given to him in order to put a few thousand miles between him and
me. We have no divorce in Spain, and that was the only way of insuring
to me a little peace and freedom." She took another little sip. "From
this you will understand," she went on, "that I am not happily married.
You must know that I am an only child. My father, the Marquis de
Henares, idolized me. He was a soldier through and through, very stern
and reserved toward everybody, even my mother, who never really
understood his rare nature. Only to me he showed his heart of gold, his
high and noble character, his deep feeling--a prickly pear, outside
rough and inside honey-sweet. He brought me up as if I was to be a
cabinet minister, and treated me like a beloved comrade from the time I
was twelve, so that my mother was often jealous of me. When I grew up,
he would sometimes say, 'Whoever wants to marry my Pilar will have to
fight with me first.' And he meant it. You probably know that we
develop early in Spain. At sixteen I was not very different from what I
am now. Count Pozaldez was a young lieutenant of cavalry, and my
father's adjutant. Of course we saw a good deal of one another, an