"Baum, are your parents still living?"
"No."
"Did you know them long?"
Baum coughed behind his raised hand and answered: "I never knew my father; and my mother--my mother was taken from me long ago."
Baum, who still held his hand before his face, bit his lips and at last ventured to ask: "May I inquire, my lady, why you put that question to me?"
"I desire to acquaint myself with the life and history of those whom I know personally."
Baum dropped his hand and his face was as smooth and void of expression as before.
The strictest decorum was observed during their stay at the castle. On one occasion, however, Irma felt offended, and that was when the old lady--they called her "Her Grace"--declared the relation of an affianced couple the silliest of all conventionalities--the most natural and proper course would be to have marriage follow immediately upon the betrothal--yes, in the very same hour.
These remarks were accompanied by a peculiar change in the expression of the old lady's features. Irma was startled and did not get over her fright, for when, at parting, the baroness impressed a kiss upon her, Irma could not help shuddering.
Irma had been in the carriage for some time, when Bruno at last came, and again stopped to throw a kiss to his betrothed, who was standing at the window.