tion for him.
He is so good, so strong, so loyal that I did not think it impossible."

After another silence Karen found something to say. "I have friendship
for him. That is quite different."

"Why so, Karen?" Madame von Marwitz inquired. "Since you are not a
romantic school-girl, let us speak soberly. Friendship, true friendship,
for a man whose tastes are yours, whose pursuits you understand, is the
soundest basis upon which to build a marriage."

"No. Only as a friend, a friend not too near, do I feel affection for
Franz. It is repulsive to me--the thought of anything else. It makes me
hate him," said Karen.

"_Tiens!_" Madame von Marwitz opened her eyes in genuine surprise. "I
could not have imagined such, decisive feeling. I could not have
imagined that you despised the good Franz. I need not tell you that I do
not agree with you there."

"I do not despise him."

"Ah, there is more than mere negation in your look, your voice, my
child. It is pride, wounded pride, that speaks; and it is as if you told
me that I had less care for your pride than you had, and thought less of
your claims."

"I do not think of my claims."

"You feel them. You feel Franz your inferior."

"I did not think of such things. I thought of his face, near me, and it
made me hate him."

Karen continued to look aside with a sombre gaze. And, after examining
her for another moment, Madame von Marwitz held out her hand. "Come,"
she said, "come here, child. I have blundered. I see that I have
blundered. Franz shall be sent about his business. Have I hurt you? Do
not think of it again."

The girl got up slowly, as if her stress of feeling made her awkward.
Stumbling, she knelt down beside her guardian and, taking the hand and
holding it against her eyes, she said in a voice heavy with unshed
tears: "Am I a burden? Am I an anxiety? Let me go away, then. I can
teach. I can teach music and languages. I can do translations, so many
things. You have educated me so well. You will always be my dear friend
and I shall see you from time to time. But it is as you say, I am a
woman now. I would rather go away than have you troubled by me."

Madame von Marwitz's face, as she listened to the heavy voice, that
trembled a little over its careful words, darkened. "It is not well what
you say, Karen," she replied. "No. You speak to me as you have no right
to speak, as though you had a grievance against me. What have I ever
done that you should ask me