rous?" said Kindar, with a faint smile.

"These gentlemen at least appear to think so; and if I did not care so
much for you, I should really hate you, I have suffered so much on your
account."

Baron von Kindar covered her hand with burning kisses for an answer to
this.

"Be reasonable, beau cousin, and listen to me," said Camilla, as she
laughingly withdrew her hand. "My husband has been, as I said, in
Copenhagen for eight weeks, and has already entreated me to join him
with the child, as I have entirely recovered."

"The barbarian!" murmured Kindar.

"I have declined up to this time under one pretext or another. But
yesterday I received a letter from my husband, in which he no longer
entreats me, but dares, as he himself expresses it, to command me to
leave Berlin two days after the receipt of his letter."

"But that is tyranny which passes all bounds," cried Kindar. "Does this
wise lord think that his wife must obey him as a slave? Ah, Camilla, you
owe it to yourself to show him that you are a free-born woman, whom no
one dare command, not even a husband."

"How shall I show him that?" asked Camilla.

"By remaining here," whispered Kindar. "You dare not think of leaving
Berlin, for you know that the hour of your departure would be the
hour of my death. You know it, for you have long known that I love
you entirely, and that you owe me some recompense for the cruel pain I
suffered when you married another."

"And in what shall this recompense consist?" asked Camilla with a
coquettish smile.

Baron von Kindar placing his arm around her, whispered: "By remaining
here, adored Camilla, for my sake--in declaring to your hated husband
that you will leave Berlin on no account--that your honor demands that
you should prove to him in the face of his brutal commands, that these
are no commands for you--and that you will follow your own will and
inclination. Therefore you will remain in Berlin."

"Will you write this letter for me?"

"If I do so, will you consent to remain here, and to open your door to
me in spite of the orders of your husband, or the argus-eyes of your
stepfather?"

"Write the letter, the rest will arrange itself," said Camilla.

"I will write it to-night. May I bring it to you myself to-morrow
morning?"

"If I say no, will you then be so kind as to give it to my maid?"

"I swear by my honor that I will only give the letter into your own
hands."

"Well, then, my tyrannical cousin, you fo