Emily made no reply. She sank with a groan upon the bench; she pressed her face in her hands, and sobbed as if her heart were breaking.

Oswald was not one of those men who can see a woman weep unmoved. He stepped close up to the unfortunate girl and said:

"Will you listen to me calmly a few moments?"

Emily's only answer was a violent sobbing.

"Believe me," Oswald continued, "I am heartily sorry for you; that such a scene should at all have been possible; and I feel that I, and I alone, am to blame for it. If I had told you that night what I must tell you to-day, your pride would long since have made an end to the matter.--I cannot love you. That sounds very strange, spoken to a woman of such loveliness and sweetness, but it is nevertheless true. Why then will you waste your love on one who shows himself so utterly unworthy of such a precious gift? Why not render somebody happy by it, who has more talent for being happy and for making others happy?--I am just now so low-spirited that I am more than usually incapable of looking at men and things in the right light. Pardon me, therefore, if I have offended you just now by my bitter words. I had no right to use them; it was thoughtless in me; I blame myself for them. I pray, I beseech you, forget all that has happened between us! And do not allow this mortification to lead you to sudden resolves, which you may and will regret hereafter. You see what it is to bestow your affections upon an unworthy person. If this cruel experience should aid you in the selection which you will sooner or later make, I am willing to endure for the moment your hatred and even your contempt."

Emily had, while Oswald spoke, gradually ceased to weep. Now she rose and said, in an almost calm voice:

"Quite enough! I thank you. You have opened my eyes. You shall never be troubled again, as far as I am concerned. Tell me only this one thing: Am I victimized for the sake of another? Do you love another person?"

"Yes!" said Oswald, after a little hesitation.

"Very well! And now listen _you_! As I have loved you with all the warmth of my heart, so I hate you now; and as a few minutes ago I would have willingly given my love for you, so I wish now to be avenged on you for this disgrace. And I will be avenged; I will----"

Again she broke out into pa.s.sionate tears; but she checked herself quickly.

"You do not deserve it, that I shed so many tears for you. Now crown your conduct and follow me into the house, so that the whole world may see what a fool I have been!"

And she hastened away from Oswald, down the wall, across the lawn, into the salon, where they were dancing merrily. Cloten, who had in vain looked for her everywhere, and now stood melancholy, leaning against a door-frame, saw her at once and hurried to meet her.

"Why, Miss Emily! Caused me real anguish! Upon my word, was _au desespoir_! Thought, in fact, one of the heavenly ones had eloped with you."

"I have been quietly reflecting. Baron Cloten, on what you told me a little while ago," replied Emily.

"'Pon my word! Are an angel! and I may hope?" asked Cloten, who of course interpreted the reddened eyelids and the excited manner of the young girl in his own favor.

"Go to my aunt!"

"Really? 'pon honor? I can't believe it!" exclaimed the young man, and his surprise was by no means fict.i.tious.

"Then do not go!" replied Miss Emily, in a tone which would have made anybody else very much afraid about the firmness of the tie that was about to be formed here.

"Great G.o.d! Emily, angel, do not be angry. I hasten, I fly----"

And Baron Cloten went away in most abject confusion to seek out the aunt.

Emily remained standing on the same spot, pale, her arms folded, her eyes fixed upon the groups of dancers, without seeing anything more than if she had stared into vacancy.

"You are wiser than others," said a voice close by her.

It was Baron Felix; he had thrown himself into a chair, and wiped the perspiration from his brow with a delicate handkerchief.

"Ridiculous to jump about in this heat; I think it is time to stop. And now Helen has relieved Mr. Timm at the piano. That girl has strange notions. Don't you think so, Miss Emily?"

"Perhaps she had no one to dance with."

"Impossible."

"Well, perhaps not the right one."

"_C'est-a-dire?_"

"The one she likes to dance with."

"I have always been here."

"You do not imagine _you_ are the happy one?"

"Who else?"

"Don't you know what has become of Mr. Stein?"

"No, why?"

"I only ask for Miss Helen's sake. Do you not see how her big, proud eyes are searching steadily, but unceasingly, all over the salon?"

"You are surely not in earnest?"

"Why not? Is not Mr. Stein a very handsome man? And has not Miss Helen very strange notions?"

"Miss Emily," said Felix, gravely, "will you do me the honor to tell me whether you have any special reasons for such an a.s.sertion?"

"Of course I have special reasons."

"And will you have the kindness to mention them?"

"That I cannot."

At that moment Baron Cloten returned, his face beaming with delight.

"Miss Emily," he said, "your aunt wishes to speak to you. May I have the honor to take you to her?"

"Directly," said Emily, and then to Felix: "Rely on what I told you.

You have sharp eyes and ears."

She took Cloten's arm.

"I must find that out," said Felix to himself when he was alone again.

"Helen's manner has really been extraordinary of late."

He went up to the piano. "Shall I turn the music for you, Helen?"

"Thanks," Helen replied dryly. "I play from memory."

After a short pause: "Please, cousin, go away. It makes me nervous to have anybody stand so close behind me."