him a deep curtsy with a killing glance of adoration.

'It is new?' he asked. 'Vienna fashion.'

'Mint new,' replied the lady, 'for your Highness's return. I felt
young this morning; it was a premonition. But why, Prince, do you
ever leave us?'

'For the pleasure of the return,' said Otto. 'I am like a dog; I
must bury my bone, and then come back to great upon it.'

'O, a bone! Fie, what a comparison! You have brought back the
manners of the wood,' returned the lady.

'Madam, it is what the dog has dearest,' said the Prince. 'But I
observe Madame von Rosen.'

And Otto, leaving the group to which he had been piping, stepped
towards the embrasure of a window where a lady stood.

The Countess von Rosen had hitherto been silent, and a thought
depressed, but on the approach of Otto she began to brighten. She
was tall, slim as a nymph, and of a very airy carriage; and her
face, which was already beautiful in repose, lightened and changed,
flashed into smiles, and glowed with lovely colour at the touch of
animation. She was a good vocalist; and, even in speech, her voice
commanded a great range of changes, the low notes rich with tenor
quality, the upper ringing, on the brink of laughter, into music. A
gem of many facets and variable hues of fire; a woman who withheld
the better portion of her beauty, and then, in a caressing second,