ences has persuaded the Baron that it is possible to
solve the famous problem called the "Philosopher's Stone." His own
pecuniary resources have long since been exhausted by his costly
experiments. His sister has next supplied him with the small fortune
at her disposal: reserving only the family jewels, placed in the
charge of her banker and friend at Frankfort. The Countess's fortune
also being swallowed up, the Baron has in a fatal moment sought for new
supplies at the gaming table. He proves, at starting on his perilous
career, to be a favourite of fortune; wins largely, and, alas! profanes
his noble enthusiasm for science by yielding his soul to the
all-debasing passion of the gamester.

'At the period of the Play, the Baron's good fortune has deserted him.
He sees his way to a crowning experiment in the fatal search after the
secret of transmuting the baser elements into gold. But how is he to
pay the preliminary expenses? Destiny, like a mocking echo, answers,
How?

'Will his sister's winnings (with my Lord's money) prove large enough
to help him? Eager for this result, he gives the Countess his advice
how to play. From that disastrous moment the infection of his own
adverse fortune spreads to his sister. She loses again, and
again--loses to the last farthing.

'The amiable and wealthy Lord offers a third loan; but the scrupulous
Countess positively refuses to take it. On leaving the table, she
presents her brother to my Lord. The gentlemen fall into pleasant
talk. My Lord asks leave to pay his respects to the Countess, the next
morning, at her hotel. The Baron hospitably invites him to breakfast.
My Lord accepts, with a last admiring glance at the Countess which does
not escape her brother's observation, and takes his leave for the night.

'Alone with his sister, the Baron speaks out plainly. "Our affairs,"
he says, "are in a desperate condition, and must find a desperate
remedy. Wait for me here, while I make inquiries about my Lord. You
have evidently produced a strong impression on him. If we can turn
that impression into money, no matter at what sacrifice, the thing must
be done."

'The Countess now occupies the stage alone, and indulges in a soliloquy
which develops her character.

'It is at once a dangerous and attractive character. Immense
capacities for good are implanted in her nature, side by side with
equally remarkable capacities for evil. It rests with circumstances to
develop either the one