nd more melancholy, and that now it rarely expressed
childlike naivete. A dreamy melancholy had settled upon it. And of what
did she dream? Why was she so sad? Why did she start? Why did the blood
rush to her cheeks when he came suddenly into her presence?

CHAPTER II

Count Vavel had made his fair neighbor at the manor the object of study.
He had ample time for the task; he had nothing else to do. And, as he
was debarred from making direct inquiries concerning her, or from
hearing the current gossip of the neighborhood, he learned only that
about her which his telescope revealed; and from this, with the aid of
his imagination, he formed a conclusion--and an erroneous one, very
probably.

His neighbor lived in strict seclusion, and was a man-hater. But, for
all that, she was neither a nun nor an Amazon. She was a true woman,
neither inconsolably melancholy nor wantonly merry. She proved herself
an excellent housewife. She rose betimes mornings, sent her workmen
about their various tasks, saw that everything was properly attended to.
Very often she rode on horseback, or drove in a light wagon, to look
about her estate. She had arranged an extensive dairy, and paid daily
visits to her stables. She did not seem aware that an attentive observer
constantly watched her with his telescope from the tower of the Nameless
Castle. So, at least, it might be assumed; for the lady very often
assisted in the labor of the garden, when, in transplanting tulip bulbs,
she would so soil her pretty white hands to the wrists with black mold
that it would be quite distressing to see them. Certainly this was
sufficient proof that her labor was without design.

And, what was more to the purpose, she acted as if perfectly unaware of
the fact that a lady lived in the Nameless Castle who possibly might be
the wife of her tenant. Common courtesy and the conventional usages of
society demanded that the lady who took up a residence anywhere should
call on the ladies of the neighborhood--if only to leave a card with the
servant at the door. The baroness had omitted this ceremony, which
proved that she either did not know of Marie's hiding-place, or that she
possessed enough delicacy of feeling to understand that it would be
inconvenient to the one concerned were she to take any notice of the
circumstance. Either reason was satisfactory to Count Vavel.

But a woman without curiosity!

Meanwhile the count had learned something about her wh