"Emily von Breesen and Lisbeth von Meyen. They have but just been confirmed last Easter, and wear to-day, as far as I know, for the first time, long dresses. Shall I introduce you?"

Oswald did not reply, for at that moment the door opened, and Baron Barnewitz, whose face was beaming with delight at the surprise he had so cunningly contrived, ushered in a gentleman whose appearance evidently created quite a sensation. The loud voice of Count Grieben was hushed, several gentlemen put their heads together, and in the circle of the ladies around the hostess there followed quite a pause of expectation. The new-comer was a man of tall, but almost too slim figure, whose careless carriage brought out still more forcibly the disproportion between height and breadth. Upon the long body sat a small head, whose well-formed outlines were partly hid by the short, thick black hair. A beard of the same kind covered chin and cheeks and mouth, so that only the upper part of his face could be examined successfully. But on this half more than one riddle was clearly written. The forehead was rather high than wide, but surrounded by exceedingly fine and yet bold outlines. The brows, drawn as with a pencil, pa.s.sed in a bold curve over the gray eyes, the expression of which was not very pleasant, at least as they swept at that moment over the company; as unpleasant was the smile which flashed like sheet lightning every now and then around the finely chiselled nose with the sensitive nostrils. Both smile and glance seemed to be all the answer the man vouchsafed to give Baron Barnewitz, who overwhelmed him with polite speeches as he led him up to the place where the lady of the house received her guests. She rose to greet the new-comer, who kissed her hand, and, after a slight bow to the other ladies, fell into an empty chair near her, beginning at once a lively conversation with her, without paying the slightest attention to anybody else.

Oswald had watched the new-comer with the eye of an Indian who follows the track of his mortal enemy, for he had instantly recognized that horseman who had met him and Bemperlein in the forest. It was Baron Oldenburg.

"Now look," said Baron Barnewitz, walking up to Oswald and rubbing his hands with delight.

"I am all eye," said Oswald, with a somewhat constrained smile.

"What are you to look for?" asked Langen, while Barnewitz was turning to another group.

"Baron Barnewitz has had the goodness to call my attention to Baron Oldenburg, as a most interesting man."

"Ah! That is Oldenburg!" said Langen; "I had not seen him yet."

Another carriage drove up, and Oswald recognized Melitta as she stepped out. It was fortunate for him that Langen was eying the party on the sofa at that moment, for he would not have been able to conceal his excitement. The few minutes which Melitta spent in the dressing-room appeared to him an eternity. At last she entered through the open door, and Oswald thought the whole room was filled with light and with roses.

Melitta wore a white dress, which covered up bosom and shoulders, while the delicate neck was enclosed in a lace frill. A light shawl hung around her sloping shoulders. A deep red camellia in her hair, this was her only ornament. But what ornament is needed where beauty and grace are combined, and Melitta's appearance was so beautiful and graceful that her entrance created even a greater sensation than Oldenburg's.

The older men broke off their conversation to pay their respects to her; a few younger men hastened up to get, if possible, the first waltz, the second polka--anything that could be had, and she smiled at old and young, answered here a question, begged there for patience, and all this while she was crossing the large room to join the other ladies. Baron Oldenburg had quietly remained sitting on his chair while the lady of the house had risen to advance toward her cousin. His arm resting on the back of the chair, he did not even turn round to look at the cause of the general commotion. But then Melitta's name must have struck his ear, for he started up, looked around, and stood face to face before Melitta, whom her cousin held by the hand. Oswald had been drawn, as by a magnetic power, toward the place, so that not a word, not a look escaped him. He saw Melitta turn pale, and her eyes flash as if in anger, when Oldenburg made her a low bow.

"Ah, madam," he said with a peculiar smile, "when we met last the sun of Sicily was shining over us, and now----"

"The moon shines--you mean to say," replied Melitta, and around her lips there appeared a line of bitter irony which Oswald had not yet seen. "On the contrary, dear baron, when we met last the moon was shining. Do you not remember, it was in the garden of the Villa Serra di Falco, near Palermo--and now that we meet again, the sun is shining, at least for myself."

The meaning of these last words was probably a secret for all except for him for whom they were spoken. Melitta had noticed Oswald, as she turned half round to speak to Oldenburg, and had so kindly smiled upon him that Baron Barnewitz interrupted his enjoyment of the skilfully prepared scene to ask him, "You knew my cousin before?"

"Yes!" said Oswald, leaving him and bowing deeply to Melitta.

"Ah, doctor," said Melitta, with well-a.s.sumed surprise, "that is nice, that I meet you here. Just think, Bemperlein has written already; Julius is well--but sit down here and I will tell you all at leisure--Julius is perfectly well and has become quite a dandy in the five days he has spent at Grunwald. He has been at a children's ball, has danced a cotillon, just think! a cotillon, and that against the remonstrances of half a dozen young gentlemen."

"The poor fellow," laughed Oswald, "he will have to fight half a dozen duels."

"May be! But you know Julius is as brave as a lion, and will risk all for the lady of his heart--Ah! Baron Cloten, is that really you? I was told you and Robin had broken your necks at the last fox-hunt?"

"_Quelle idee, madame!_--no doubt invention of Barnewitz. Devilish clever fellow, Barnewitz! Beg ten thousand pardons! Am quite well, thanks! Ah, yes--would beg for a dance, if possible, the cotillion.

Must try once more, if I cannot persuade you to sell me Brownlock."

"_Non, mon cher_; for such a purpose you shall not get the cotillon, nor any other dance. But if you will leave me Brownlock, to enjoy him in peace, you shall have the first waltz. I shall probably not stay for the cotillon. Are you satisfied?"

"Ah, madam--satisfied--_quelle idee!_ happy!...."

"I pray you, Baron Cloten, calm yourself. Have you a _vis-a-vis_?"

"No, not yet. Look for one at once."

"Here, ask Doctor Stein--let me introduce----"

"Ah! Have had the pleasure," said the dandy, apparently noticing Oswald now for the first time, though he had been standing within a yard of him.

"All the better," said Melitta; "that is settled then?"

Cloten and Oswald bowed, and then Melitta sent them both away with a graceful wave of the hand. "I wonder," said Langen to Oswald, as he returned to the window, "how you can speak so freely to her; I would not have the courage."

"You are jesting."

"Upon my word, no! There is something in that woman's look and in her voice which would make me fear for the salvation of my soul. I know I am not alone in that."

"Perhaps I am not sufficiently concerned for the salvation of my soul,"

said Oswald.

In the mean time Oldenburg had studiously watched the group of Melitta in a huge mirror, while he appeared to converse with several gentlemen in perfect indifference.

"See there, Cloten, how are you, _mon brave_?" he said, suddenly turning to the young man, as he came near him.

"Baron Oldenburg! 'pon honor, would not have known you--such a horrible beard!"

"Horrible, _mon cher_? Do not make me unhappy; I have cultivated it now for three years, and it has cost me at least a million."

"Ah, nonsense," said the dandy, stroking his handsome mustache.

"Upon my word and honor," said Oldenburg. "The thing is simply this:--I made in Cairo the acquaintance of an English family, whom I met frequently on the Nile; I was lucky enough to render them some service.

The family consisted of father, mother, and daughter--but what a daughter! _mon cher_, I tell you----"

"Ah, yes, I understand!" said Cloten, "thoroughbred! These English misses, divine--beautiful--saw one in Baden Baden--never forget her in all my life."

"Just so was my Mary," said Oldenburg.

"Not possible?"

"You may rely upon it. All English misses look alike, as one lily looks like another. _Eh bien!_ The girl falls in love with the man who has saved her life. The father likes me; the mother consents. I am not a millionaire, like Mr. Brown; but then he was only a retired dealer in iron, and I an old German baron. Enough, we ratify the bargain. Then Mary says one evening--it seems as if it had been yesterday--we were sitting in the moonlight on the terrace of the temple at Philae, and looked dreamily at the quiet river, and emptied drop by drop the full cup of love. Then she says, coming close up to me,--oh! I hear her voice still so distinctly,--Adalbert, says she--What, sweet one?--Adalbert, pray, dearest love, cut off your horrible beard--it's so vulgar."

"Ah, yes! divine, divine--these English misses.--But what did she mean?"

"She meant to say: My boy, beards are vulgar in England. Cut it off!"

"Why, that was too bad!"

"That is exactly what I told her. She begged, she besought me; at last she fell on her knees. I remained firm like the Colossus before us.

Then she sprang up, and arming herself with all the pride of England, and raising her hand to the starry heavens, she exclaimed: 'Sir, either you cut off your beard or I must cut your acquaintance.'"

"Then cut my acquaintance," said I.

"Famous!" said Cloten. "What did she do?"

"Oh, nothing! Apropos, who is that young man with whom you were talking just now? There he is, standing near the door, with old Grenwitz."

"Well, guess?"

"How can I guess? I suppose it is his nephew, Felix."