'And his name?' asked the lady, with a movement as if she would fly to him.
'He has the honor to be an old acquaintance of your grace,' continued the officer.
'And his name?' cried she, with a fire which seemed inconsistent with her years.
'The governor of West Bothnia, count Gyllenstierna,' was the answer.
The lady turned pale and sank back upon the sofa. Her bosom labored powerfully, and the anxious daughter hastened to her with Cologne water.
'Leave me,' said she, averting her head. 'My nerves are yet strong. I faint not so easily.'
With tottering steps she advanced towards the youth and examined his features yet more intently than before.
'A certain family likeness,' said she, 'is undoubtedly to be found in his face; yet I wonder that it does not appear more distinctly.'
'I am only the adopted son of the count Gyllenstierna, whose name I bear,' answered the youth. 'The count has always remained unmarried.'
The lady sighed and motioned him to retire.