Count Mensdorff sighed, glanced for a moment at the mirror, and then left his cabinet, to repair to his wife's drawing-room.
There the crowd had become even larger, and the greatest animation prevailed. The politicians had extracted all the news, or convinced themselves there was none to hear, and the whole company was passing the time in light conversation in various groups, until the minister's return; the younger gentlemen fluttered round the young ladies, and Lieutenant von Stielow was seen in animated conversation with a young beauty of most pleasing and distinguished appearance.
This young lady, the only daughter of the widowed Countess Frankenstein, was the same who had so occupied him in the theatre when he had been observed by Baron von Reischach, and now the young officer seemed extremely absorbed in the apparently light drawing-room conversation, for he looked down on the young lady with great interest, and she leant on the arm of her chair and raised her large brown eyes to his face, whilst her hand played with her white feather fan, which matched her dress in simplicity; it was entirely white, and only ornamented with small bouquets of violets.
"Then it is arranged, countess," said Herr von Stielow, "if you go into Switzerland with your mother you accept me as your travelling companion. I know all the most beautiful parts, and I will make you an excellent guide."
"I have not the selection of our travelling companions, Herr von Stielow," replied the young lady; "but I am sure it will be agreeable to my mother if we meet you in Switzerland, and if you are kind enough to show us some of its beauties."
"That is an excessively courteous reply, fair lady," said the lieutenant, with some displeasure, "but to me it is rather too courteous. I am quite sure that the countess will welcome me if she meets me, and that she will not refuse her consent to my joining your tour among the mountains, but----"
"Well," said the young lady, with a saucy little laugh, "then our travelling plans are made, and everything is arranged; or did you wish for an uncourteous answer? You could hardly expect one from me."
"You are unkind, countess," replied von Stielow, biting his lips in the vain endeavour to gnaw his short moustache; "you know well I am not making idle conversation, but that I ask an important question. I do not at all wish to be intrusive, and to owe it to your mother's politeness that I am not sent away. You see," he added, more warmly, and with less constraint, "I expect such pleasure from our trip,--I love the free pure mountain air,--and I am sure that you, too, will find immense enjoyment in the lovely valleys and high peaks; you will appreciate their beauty, you must be happier there than here, 'in the breath of the tomb,' as the poet says."
The young lady listened to him with her upturned eyes glowing brighter and warmer, but she suddenly cast them down, and said in a mocking tone, which was, however, softened by the smile on her lips, "And how do you know that I am not quite in my element in the tomblike breath of the town?"
"I know it, Countess Clara," said the young officer, with animation; "and because I know it I wish to guide you to the great poem of glorious nature, and to read it with you,--but only if you honestly wish it, and will be really glad to have me with you."