The Count, a man of about the age of thirty years, was standing in the background of the ball-room, in the doorway of one of the antechambers, thoughtfully contemplating the brilliant scene. The élite of the large provincial town was assembled in the President's rooms to-night, men high in office, with their wives and daughters, the officers of the garrison, and the most aristocratic of the county gentry.
The President enjoyed giving splendid entertainments, and his wealth and position entirely justified him in gratifying his taste in this direction. The hospitalities of his house were quite famous,--his balls had been mentioned with favour by royalty itself,--had not the Prince, upon a visit to the town, accepted an invitation to one of these birthday fêtes, and declared afterwards that he had never attended a more brilliant entertainment or seen a more charming collection of lovely women?
Count Styrum, too, thought that he had rarely seen so many lovely faces assembled in one room, and he gazed with delight at the charming groups laughing and jesting on all sides, wondering while he gazed whom he should pronounce fairest among so many that were fair. His doubt on this head vanished, however, as his eye fell upon a young girl seated upon a low divan near him.
He was quite lost for a moment in admiration of her beauty; the features might, it is true, have been more regular, but the face was indescribably lovely and attractive. The slightly pouting lips could surely smile charmingly, although now there were pensive lines about the mouth which accorded well with the melancholy expression of the large and eloquent brown eyes.
The Count felt an immediate and lively interest in this lovely girl; he had never seen her before, and yet he longed to know why she, the fairest among this gay throng, should look so sad and take apparently so little interest in what was going on around her.
She could hardly number twenty years; could she be preyed upon by any secret grief? What was she thinking of at this moment? Scarcely of the whispered words of the man on the low seat beside her, for she never looked at him, and even turned away from him with a gesture betokening that his conversation was anything but agreeable to her.
"I see I am right! It is really yourself, my dear Count. I thought you were in Rome or Naples, and am most heartily delighted to welcome you here!"
It was thus that the Assessor addressed the Count, who, in contemplation of the beautiful girl on the divan, had not noticed his approach. Now, however, he held out his hand, saying, not unkindly, and with a smile, "You here in the provinces, my dear Hahn? I had not expected to meet the lion of the metropolis here; how does it happen?"
The Assessor, greatly flattered by the question, conceitedly twirled his light moustache and tried to look as much as possible like a flaxen-haired lion of the metropolis; not very successfully, however. His face would look boyish in spite of the moustache, and his head barely reached to his distinguished friend's shoulder, as he replied, "I have been here two years. Just after your departure, when I had passed my third examination, I was appointed to the post of assessor here. It is true that we forego much in the provinces, where however the heart finds truer contentment than amid the whirl of the capital, and therefore I am abundantly satisfied with my present life, which, unfortunately, I must shortly resign, for I am ordered to Altstadt. It is difficult to tear one's self away from loved surroundings and companionship. I am endowed with more than my share of sensibility, I know; not that I would make a boast of it, for it is mine from the hand of nature, and her gifts are variously bestowed."
A smile hovered upon the Count's lips as he replied, "I am glad to find you unchanged, my dear Hahn. Of course you are entirely at home in this society, where I am a total stranger. Not a soul in the room do I know except my uncle Guntram and my cousins Adèle and Heinrich. You will tell me who all these delightful people are."