before conversed in so
animated a manner with her cousin.

"Was this the courteous knight," thought Marie, "who had saluted them
in so polite a manner, without ever having seen them before? Was it the
same cheerful and merry person whom cousin Kraft had introduced? the
same who had spoken with Bertha so earnestly? or could she--yes, it was
too evident that Bertha had pleased him better than herself--perhaps,
because she was the first to dance with him."

Marie had been little accustomed to see her reserved cousin preferred
before her, which this apparent victory seemed to indicate. Her vanity
was piqued, she felt herself estranged from Bertha, and conceived
herself bound to exert her talents and winning arts to re-establish
herself in her lost rights. She therefore, in her usual merry mood,
carried on the conversation about the coming war, which she contrived
to lengthen out till the end of the dance. "Well," said she, "and how
many campaigns have you gone through, Albert von Sturmfeder?"

"This will be my first," he answered, abruptly, for he was annoyed that
she kept up the conversation, as he wished so much to speak to Bertha
again.

"Your first!" said Marie, in astonishment. "You surely want to deceive
me, for I perceive a large scar on your forehead."

"I got that at the university," he replied.

"How? are you a scholar?" asked Marie, her curiosity still more
excited. "Well, then, I suppose you have visited distant countries,
Padua or Bologna, or perhaps even the heretics in Wittenberg?"

"Not so far as you think," said he, as he turned to Bertha: "I have
never been further than Tuebingen."

"In Tuebingen?" cried Marie, surprised. This single word, like
lightning, unravelled in a moment every thing in her mind which before
had been obscure. A glance at Bertha, who stood before her with
downcast eyes, her cheeks suffused with the blush of confusion,
convinced her that, on that word, hung the key to a long list of
inferences which had occupied her thoughts. It was now quite clear why
the courteous knight saluted them; the cause of Bertha's tears could be
no other, than that of finding Albert had joined the opposite party;
the earnest conversation between them, and Sturmfeder's reserve to
herself, were satisfactorily explained to her mind. There was no
question of their having long known each other.

Indignation was the first feeling that ruffled Marie's breast. She
blushed for herself, when she felt she h