ure woman, the features of the charming face
and the glance of the dark-blue eyes had a soft and dreamy expression
that was altogether maidenly. Then, too, she looked very girlish when,
chancing to look up suddenly from the embroidery on which she was
engaged, she gazed with innocent wonder straight into the face of the
speaker, then opened her lips in a laugh which displayed two rows of
the most beautiful little teeth, and the next instant bent down her
head again as if in confusion, until her thick brown hair fell low over
her forehead.

Rosenbusch, who was smitten at once, would very gladly have drawn a
little nearer to this enchanting stranger. But the countess took
complete possession of him, making him give her a circumstantial
account of his doings and actions, and expressing an unusual interest
in the "Battle of Luetzen," which was now finished. As she was a perfect
mistress of the art of making every one believe that his particular
plans and aims were of more importance to her than anything else,
Rosenbusch did not remark, in the joy of his heart, that, in spite of
her interest in him, she yawned several times, but went on talking
about anything that came into his head--about his labors, his ideas of
art, his friends, and finally about the masked ball in Paradise. He
related, among other things, that Jansen would appear in a genuine
Venetian costume, and his betrothed in a corresponding one, which was
to be exactly copied from a portrait by Paris Bordone, in red velvet
with a little gold embroidery, and which would go marvelously well with
her pale complexion and the dull-gold color of her hair.

While he was giving this description the beautiful stranger let her
embroidery fall in her lap, and fixed her eyes upon the speaker with
the curious expression of a child listening to a fairy tale.

"Such a costume would be exceedingly becoming to you also, madame,"
stammered the painter, who now for the first time addressed a direct
remark to the unknown person.

She laughed absently, sighed, but said nothing.

Nelida exchanged a quick glance with her, and then asked, as if to give
the conversation another turn, what costume Rosenbusch had chosen for
himself. The truth was, he candidly replied, his means did not permit
him to make any very great display; he should put himself into a
Capuchin's cowl, which would go exceedingly well with his beard, and,
since he was always expected on such occasions to deliver some