ou pain. I can only do penance for my fault, and to-morrow I
am going into banishment at Bondathal."

"Ah!" Theudelinde's voice expressed surprise. "You are going to leave
us? What are you going to do in Bondathal?"

"I will return to my business, which I have too long neglected."

"And do you like to live in Bondathal?"

"I am tranquil there."

"Have you relatives?"

"I have none."

"You have a household?"

"So far as I can, I do everything for myself."

"You have surely friends and acquaintances who form a pleasant circle
around you?"

"I have only my workmen and my machines."

"You live there a hermit's life?"

"No, countess, for a hermit lives alone, while I have my books and my
work; I am never alone."

The countess's face assumed almost a solemn expression.

"Herr von Behrend, give me your hand, and stay here."

Ivan got up, and bowed low before her. "The kind feeling which has
prompted your words, as well as the honor you have done me, shall
never be forgotten by me. It is a proof to me of your great goodness,
and I beg of you to accept my heartfelt thanks."

"Then you will remain? How long?"

"Until to-morrow morning."

"Ah," cried the countess, with a petulant air, "when I ask you to
stay!"

Her disappointment was so transparent, her annoyance so sincere, that
it was impossible not to feel sorry for her. Theudelinde looked at
Angela as if she expected her to come to her help; but Angela never
raised her eyes, shaded by their long lashes, while her fingers
plucked nervously at the petals of a marguerite, as if she were
consulting that well-known oracle.

"Countess," said Ivan, still standing, and with his hand on the back
of his chair, "when I answer a friendly invitation such as yours with
an apparently uncivil refusal to remain, as you so kindly wish me to
do, I feel that it is incumbent on me to give you my true reason for
withdrawing myself from your society. I cannot say to you what I would
to a mere acquaintance; I cannot make such excuses as 'that I have
business at home; that I have been too long here; that I shall return
soon.' To you I must confess that I go away because no inducement
would prevail on me to remain, and that when I go I mean never to
return. Countess, this is not my world; here I _could_ not live. I
have spent three months here; I have been a daily guest in the best
circles; I have lived with members of the highest and most cultivated
society, have studied cl