rilliant circles were extinct
craters; the dark blotches, seas. At that time scientists still accepted
the theory of oceans on the moon. What interested Marie most of all,
however, was the question, "Were there people on the moon?" Ludwig
promised to procure for her the fanciful descriptions of a supposed
journey made to the moon by some naturalists in the preceding century.
Innocent enough reading for a girl of sixteen!

"I wonder what the people are like who live on the moon?"

And Ludwig's mental reply was: "One of them stands here by your side!"

After a while Marie wearied of the heavenly phenomena, and when the hour
came at which she usually went to bed she was overcome by sleep.

In vain Ludwig sought to keep her awake by telling her about the Imbrian
Ocean, and relating the wonders of Mount Aristarchus. Marie could not
keep from nodding, and several times she caught herself dreaming.

"I shall not wait to see the end of the eclipse," she said to Ludwig.
"It is very pretty and interesting, but I am sleepy."

She was yet so much a child that she would not have given up her sweet
slumbers for an eclipse of all the planets of the universe.

Ludwig accompanied her to the door of her apartments, bade her good
night, and returned to the observatory.

Already the disk of the moon was half obscured. Ludwig removed the
astronomical eye-piece from the telescope, and inserted the tellurian
glass instead; then he turned the object-glass toward the neighboring
manor instead of toward the moon. Now, if ever, was the time to find out
if his fair neighbor possessed a telescope. If she had one, she would
certainly be using it now.

It was sufficiently light to enable him to see quite distinctly the
baroness sitting, with two other women, on the veranda. She was
observing the eclipse, but with an opera-glass--a magnifier that
certainly could not reveal very much.

Of this Count Ludwig might rest satisfied. And yet, in spite of the
satisfaction this decision had given him, he continued to observe the
disappearance of the moonlight from the veranda of the manor with far
more attention than he bestowed upon the gradual darkening of the
heavenly luminary itself. Then there happened to the baroness's
companions what had happened to Marie: the women began to nod, whereupon
the baroness sent them to bed. There remained now only the count and his
fair neighbor to continue the astronomical observations. The lady looked
at the mo