in children's asylums, then the "convict
system" certainly was a perfect one; while, on the other hand, if a
preceptor like Count Vavel took it upon himself to instruct a forsaken
lad, then one might certainly expect a genius to evolve from the little
dullard growing up in a peasant's cottage.

Ultimately, however, the victory fell to the lady. It happened as
follows:

One day the count was again the recipient of a letter from his neighbor
at the manor (they had not yet exchanged verbal communication).

The letter ran thus:

"HERR COUNT: I dare say you know that the father of your little protege
is no other than the notorious robber, Satan Laczi, whom it is
impossible to capture. The mother of the lad was arrested on suspicion.
She lived in the village under her own honest family name--Satan Laczi
being only a thief's appellation. As nothing could be proved against
her, the woman has been set at liberty, and has returned to the village.
Here she found every door closed against her--for who would care to
shelter the wife of a robber? At last the poor woman came to me, and
begged me to give her work. My servants are greatly excited because I
have taken her into my employ; but I am convinced that the woman is
innocent and honest. Were I to cast her adrift, she might become what
she has been accused of being--the accomplice of thieves. I know she
will conduct herself properly with me. I tell you all this because, if
you approve what I have done, you will permit the lad you have taken
under your protection to come to the manor, where he would be with his
mother. If, however, you condemn my action, you will refuse to grant my
request, and generously continue to care for the lad in your own way.
The decision I leave to you."

Count Vavel was forced to capitulate. The baroness's action--taking into
her household the woman who had been repulsed by all the world--was so
praiseworthy, so sublime, that nothing could approach it. That same day
he sent the lad with Frau Schmidt to the manor, and herewith the
correspondence between himself and the baroness ceased. There was no
further subject for argument.

And yet, Count Vavel could not help but think of this woman. Who was
she?

He had sought to learn from his foreign correspondents something
concerning the Baroness Katharina, but could gain no information save
that which we have already heard from the county physician: disappointed
love and shame at her rejection had driv