calm--"

"I am quite calm now; pray tell me, have you a message for me?"

"I have not. But it seems to me, dear Countess, as if I were just
beginning to understand you.--Oh, what a man your father is!"

Irma looked up in surprise. She thought of Appiani speaking to Odoardo.

The colonel continued, calmly:

"Dear Countess, I am not an enthusiastic youth; but, during the short
time I was permitted to spend with your father, I felt as if the
exalted existence which had once been my ideal had become a real,
living fact. Such perfect communings are impossible unless one feels
sure that he is looked upon with favor, and I feel that I have had the
good fortune to gain your father's good opinion."

"You fully deserve it. Excuse me, while I lay off my hat. Pray take a
seat and tell me more about father." She removed her hat; her
excitement had only added to her beauty.

She rang for a servant and ordered him to send the carriage away.

The colonel seated himself.

Irma was all attention. "Now tell me all," said she, brushing back her
curls.

"You, of all others, will understand me, when I say that I passed
sublime hours with your father. And yet I can recount nothing definite
in regard to them. If, while rambling through the woods, I pluck a
spray and fasten it to my hat, what can the spray tell of the rustling
of the forest, or of the free mountain air? It is merely a symbol, both
for us and to those we meet, of the joy that pervades our whole being."

"I understand you," said Irma. They sat opposite each other, and
neither of them spoke for some time.

"Did my father mention my brother?"

"No. The word 'son' never passed his lips. Oh, Countess! the man to
whom pure love vouchsafes the happiness of becoming a son--"

Emotion seemed to choke his utterance. Irma trembled; her heart beat
quickly. Here was a man, noble and highly esteemed, who offered her his
heart and hand. Yea, his heart, and she had none to give him in return.
She felt a pang that pierced her very soul.

"I feel happy," said she, "that father, in his solitude, has once more
seen that this stirring, bustling court contains some worthy men; men
like yourself, who stand for that which is best in all things. Do not,
I beg of you, reject my honest praise. I know that true merit is always
modest, because it is never satisfied with itself."

"Your father expressed the same thought, in the very same words."

"I believe he must have taught it tome; if