uld have said at once:
'He's not here. Countess, you've come in vain.' But I was silent, and
allowed her to speak first, and then, when I had heard her voice, it
was too late. She asked for me, she wanted to find some pretext for
remaining until he returned, and I secretly admired her presence of
mind. She had seen some of my paintings in the house of a lady
acquaintance in Berlin, she said, and was so much pleased with them,
that while on a journey she had stopped in the city, to make my
acquaintance and learn whether she might hope to possess some of my
work, she did not care what, a plate with fruit painted on it, a vase,
or a flower piece in oils.

"At first her voice trembled, then she grew calmer and threw back her
veil. Oh! I understood her perfectly. She was now convinced that she
had nothing to fear from me, that the insignificant creature before her
could make no pretensions to offer any compensation for the happiness
virtuously disdained by the man, to whom she stood ready to give
herself. And she was right, I instantly said to myself. Must I, if
unhappy be so foolish also, as to deceive myself? And precisely because
I instantly lost all hope, I obtained the composure and clearness of
mind which I should not have preserved if either hope or defiance had
lingered in my heart. I answered her without the least embarrassment,
and showed her my portfolio, telling her that I now only painted for my
own amusement and gave my productions to my friends. 'Then of course I
have no hope of obtaining anything?' she said. I made no reply. Was I
to lie, by saying courteously that it would afford me pleasure to do
her a friendly service? But she did not expect it. She sat silently on
the sofa, and there was a long pause in the conversation between us.
Her eyes--what beautiful eyes she has!--wandered slowly and absently
around the room. 'Your husband works there!' she said at last, pointing
to his desk. 'And you sit yonder, close beside him, and it does not
disturb him?' She sighed involuntarily. Probably for a moment it seemed
to her as if she were destroying something that was good and beautiful
and worthy of existence. I could look at her closely. I don't know now
how I had the heart to do so. But she was so charming! 'Those eyes,' I
said to myself, 'have stolen your happiness, those red, full lips have
kissed him, drawn away from him all power to be happy with another
woman.' Strange as it was I sat there beside her, wish