oked up at the moon, which hung
round and yellow over the tops of the old maples facing them. Only at
long intervals did one of them say something.

"You know," remarked Billy once, "he has very long eyelashes." "Yes,"
said Marion, "and they turn up a little." Then they were silent again.

In the avenue of maples below, Boris was restlessly walking up and
down. He was smoking cigarettes and thinking. He felt himself, he saw
himself today with particular strength and clearness, he the beloved,
beautiful youth with the tragic, exceptional fate. This caused him a
solemn excitement. But he also knew that he owed himself a significant
experience. Of course Billy was a part of it, that was settled, and now
he was devising plans, busily composing the destiny of the beautiful,
beloved youth. Occasionally he would stand still at the end of the
avenue and look up at the house, up at the balcony on which the white
figures of the two girls sat motionless, their shining faces turned
toward the moon.

Yonder between the flowerbeds the Princess Katakasianopulos was slowly
walking up and down, very slender in her black dress, very pale in the
moonlight. But then, who saw it? She too felt herself to be a precious
instrument of precious experiences. But where were they, for whom these
experiences were destined? At the end of the garden-walk she stopped
and looked pensively out upon the white mists that rose from the
meadow. Once she had lived for a month in Athens with her husband.
Perhaps she was yearning for Greece. Possible. But why was Boris
walking up and down alone in the avenue of maples? and why did the
lieutenant stay there with the others? She seemed to herself like a
festival which stands in lonely splendor, and of which all those who
are to celebrate it know nothing. But from the veranda the voice of
Count Hamilcar, calmly talking on, rang out into the moonlight night.
He was still explaining death to the professor.

A very bright August morning rested upon Kadullen. In the house it was
still quiet. Only Countess Betty was going through the sunny rooms and
pulling down the shades, for the day promised to be hot. Then she went
out into the garden to cut roses. At times she paused in her work and
squinted into the sunshine, looked over at the gardener's boys, or
followed with her eyes the kitchen-maids, coming from the truck-garden
with great baskets full of vegetables. On all sides this easy-going and
well-regulated life w