re are but seven cardinal
colors, thus affording so little chance to indulge one's love of
variety. But still, persistence can accomplish much, and while Bruno
held his handkerchief before his face, he smiled at the thought of Fitz
with one boot green and the other white.

"Of course, I shan't ride," he said to the intendant. "Do you think I
ought to allow my jockey to do so? I may do that; may I not?" he
hastily added, as if fearing a negative reply. "They would think it
mean of me, if I didn't. I have a large amount staked on the race. I
shall let Fitz ride. Yes, I must; there's no harm in that." He had
scarcely finished speaking, when Fitz entered the room. In a harsh
voice Bruno told him to go away. He was determined to act as though he
had forgotten all about the races. That would prove his sorrow far more
effectually than if he were to withdraw his engagement. He would submit
to the fine for non-appearance, and the world would thus perceive that
his grief was deep enough to make him forget everything.

CHAPTER VIII.

The intendant sat on the sofa with Bruno. He held Bruno's hand in
his--it was hot with fever.

Now that he had found the key to Bruno's character and present mood, he
knew what was meant when the mourner exclaimed:

"I know how it is in the world. To-day and to-morrow there is hunting
at Wolfswinkel; and day after to-morrow, the races. I am only surprised
that I didn't forget everything in that one hour. His excellency Von
Schnabelsdorf is now 'intellectualizing' with the handsome wife of
ambassador Von N----. After that comes guard-mounting, and, this
evening, there will be a _banque_ at Prince Arnold's.--Ah! the world
goes on in its beaten track. If I could only forget it; for it forgets
me.--Who has a thought for the solitary mourner? Oh, forgive me, my
beloved, my only friend in this world. You will stay with me. You will
never, never leave me. Don't leave me alone, or I shall go mad?"

The intendant felt sincere pity for the poor man. He had been invited
to dine with the master of the horse, and merely wished to leave for a
few moments in order to present his excuses in person. But Bruno would
not permit him to go, and induced him to send his excuse in writing.

"Of course I'll stay with you," said the intendant consolingly. "At
such moments, the presence of a friend is like a light in the night,
obliging or, at all events, enabling one to see surrounding