ich might be of
some use to Marie.

He had received, during the winter, a letter from the young law student
with whom he had become acquainted on the occasion of the
vice-palatine's unpleasant visit to the castle. The young man wrote to
say that he had passed his examination, and that when he should receive
the necessary authority from the count he would be ready to proceed to
the business they had talked about.

The count replied that a renewal of his lease was not necessary. The new
owner of the castle having neglected to serve a notice to quit within
the proper time, the old contracts were still valid. Therefore, it was
only necessary to secure the naturalization documents, and to purchase a
plot of ground on the shore of the lake. The young lawyer arranged these
matters satisfactorily, and the count had nothing further to do than to
appoint an _absentium ablegatus_ to the Diet, and to take possession of
his new purchase, which lay adjacent to the Nameless Castle.

The count at once had the plot of ground inclosed with a high fence of
stout planks, engaged a gardener, and had it transformed into a
beautiful flower-garden.

Then, when the first spring blossoms began to open, he said to Marie,
one balmy, sunshiny afternoon: "Come, we will take a promenade."

He conducted the veiled maiden through the park, along the freshly
graveled path to the inclosed plot of ground.

"Here is your garden," he said, opening the gate. "Now you, too, own a
plot of ground."

Count Vavel had expected to see the little maid clap her hands with
delight, and hasten to pluck the flowers for a nosegay.

Instead, however, she clung to his arm and sighed heavily.

"Why do you sigh, Marie? Are you not pleased with your garden?"

"Yes; I think it beautiful."

"Then why do you sigh?"

"Because I cannot thank you as I wish."

"But you have already thanked me."

"That was only with words. Tell me, can any one see us here?"

"No one; we are alone."

At these words the little maid tore the veil from her face, and for the
first time in many years God's free sunlight illumined her lovely
features. What those features expressed, what those eyes flashed through
their tears, that was her gratitude.

When she had illumined the heart of her guardian with this expressive
glance, she was about to draw the veil over her face again; but Ludwig
laid a gently restraining hand on hers, and said: "Leave your face
uncovered, Marie; no one can se