t instinctively that the soul which looked out through them never
lost itself in girlish dreams of brave heroes and suppliant lovers. The
bearing and appearance was haughty and reserved, yet in form and gesture
she was gracefulness itself.

Rojanow had time and leisure to notice all this as he directed her
course, sometimes behind her, sometimes in front, now holding back the
low, overhanging branches, and a second later warning her of some sudden
irregularity in the ground. The narrow forest footpath was anything but
a pleasant road for a ramble, and was an especially trying passage for
the woman. Her dress caught frequently on thorn and branch, and her long
gauze veil had to be loosened from more than one bramble, while her feet
sank, time and again, in the soft, moist, moss-covered earth. It could
not be helped, and yet Hartmut felt in his self assumed position as
guide, that he was not covering himself with as much glory as be could
have wished.

"I regret extremely, Fraeulein, that you are obliged to take so
uncomfortable a path," he said politely. "I fear you will be exhausted,
but we are in the thickest part of the forest and have consequently no
choice."

"I do not become exhausted so easily," was the answer. "I care little
about the disagreeable features of the way, if it will but lead me to
the goal."

The remark had a somewhat unusual sound coming as it did from the mouth
of a young girl; Rojanow thought so, at any rate, and he gave a slight
mocking smile as he repeated:

"If it lead to the goal! You are quite right, that is my idea too; but
ladies generally cherish other opinions. They prefer to be carried
quietly over all the rough places."

"Not all! You err there; many women much prefer going alone, without
submitting to watch and ward, as though they were children."

"Well, perhaps there are exceptions. I prize the accident which has
afforded me the opportunity of seeing so charming--"

Hartmut, who was on the point of uttering a very florid compliment,
stopped suddenly, for the cold blue eyes met his with such a look of
surprise and hauteur that the words died on his lips.

At this moment the lady's veil caught once more in the branch of an
overhanging thorn, which held it fast. She stopped, and her attentive
companion reached out his hand to free the delicate tissue, when she
suddenly tore it from her hat, with a quick motion, and left it
fluttering on the branch.

Rojanow bit his lips in