wrote to Ivan--

"My good patron, Felix Kaulmann, is an out-and-out scoundrel. Up to
the present he generally attends the rehearsals when the prince is
present. Yesterday Prince Theobald seemed quite excited, so much so
that Kaulmann was struck by it. To his question the prince said that
he was very happy. He had received a letter from his granddaughter,
the Countess Angela. She wrote in the most friendly manner. She told
him that she had met a certain Ivan Behrend, who had the courage to
give her a regular scolding, and had told her to her face what was the
duty of the Hungarian magnates towards their country, a duty in which
they were wanting, and which Prince Theobald would fulfil if he left
Vienna and came to reside in Pesth, in which case the countess would
agree to a reconciliation. The old prince seemed so happy at the idea
of seeing his child again! Kaulmann, however, looked very black,
blacker still when the prince said he would consider the matter; but
that, as the countess had taken a fancy to Pesth, he thought he would
go there. Inwardly Felix gnashed his teeth with rage, outwardly he
expressed great satisfaction that the countess had at last broken the
ice; it was a good sign that she was getting tired of her obstinacy.
But if he were in the prince's situation he would try and persuade the
countess to come to Vienna, instead of going himself to Pesth. The
prince listened to this suggestion; he fell into the trap, and will
not go at once to Pesth, but will try to bring back the countess. In
the meantime we are to have the two last rehearsals. The thirty-second
is the representation of 'Julia Gonzaga,' whose story you will find in
any library. The most interesting part of this scene is the toilette
of the heroine, who appears in a night-dress made of muslin, with her
feet naked. In spite of this rather risky costume the lady's virtue
was irreproachable, for in her hand she held a dagger, and threatened
to kill any one who ventured to look at her feet. As I wrote to you,
Kaulmann has always been present at these rehearsals, but from this
one of 'Julia Gonzaga' he is obliged to absent himself, as he has to
go away for a few days. I believe that my office should be called
_garde des dames_. As it happens, however, on this occasion I, too, am
unavoidably prevented from being present. When I went home and showed
mamma the enclosed photograph she shuddered, and positively forbade me
to assist at a rehearsal in whi