ind the snow, or the cold, or the night-air, or the storm; other people
did not die of such things, and why should she? The delicate girl
suffered not a little from it all, but Luciana gained nothing. For
although Ottilie went about very simply dressed, she was always, at
least so the men thought, the most beautiful person present. A soft
attractiveness gathered them all about her; no matter whereabouts in
the great rooms she was, first or last, it was always the same. Even
Luciana's bridegroom was constantly occupied with her; the more so,
indeed, because he desired her advice and assistance in a matter with
which he was just then engaged.

He had cultivated the acquaintance of the Architect. On seeing his
collection of works of art, he had taken occasion to talk much with him
on history and on other matters, and especially from seeing the chapel
had learnt to appreciate his talent. The Baron was young and wealthy. He
was a collector; he wished to build. His love for the arts was keen, his
knowledge small. In the Architect he thought that he had found the man
he wanted; that with his assistance there was more than one aim at which
he could arrive at once. He had spoken to his bride of what he wished.
She praised him for it, and was infinitely delighted with the proposal.
But it was more, perhaps, that she might carry off this young man from
Ottilie (for whom she fancied she saw in him a kind of inclination),
than because she thought of applying his talents to any purpose. He had
shown himself, indeed, very ready to help at any of her extemporized
festivities, and had suggested various resources for this thing and
that. But she always thought she understood better than he what should
be done, and as her inventive genius was usually somewhat common, her
designs could be as well executed with the help of a tolerably handy
domestic as with that of the most finished artist. Further than to an
altar on which something was to be offered, or to a crowning, whether of
a living head or of one of plaster of paris, the force of her
imagination could not ascend, when a birthday, or other such occasion,
made her wish to pay some one an especial compliment.

Ottilie was able to give the Baron the most satisfactory answer to his
inquiries as to the relation of the Architect with their family.
Charlotte had already, as she was aware, been exerting herself to find
some situation for him; had it not been indeed for the arrival of the
pa