'Why, dearest aunt?'
'Because those English girls, your school companions there, have indoctrinated you with preposterous ideas of female independence—right of choice, and so forth; and now that I think of it, who is that gentleman with whom you waltz so frequently?'
'Waltz, aunt?' said the girl, in a low voice.
'And who gave you, last night, that rose which you now wear in your breast?'
'Last night, aunt?' faltered Herminia, now blushing deeply, while Ernestine laughed mischievously.
'Don't repeat my words, please. Yes, last night, when the band of the Uhlans was playing in the garden of the Prinz Carl?'
'Herr Ludwig Mansfeld.'
'And how came you to know him?' asked the Countess, severely, adding, 'I hope he is not an officer from the barracks?'
(Such dreadful fellows 'those officers from the barracks' seem to be all the world over, from Canterbury to Cabul!)
'I met him first at a ball in the Kaiserlicher Hof, where the Master of the Ceremonies introduced him to me when you were playing cards in the ante-room. We dance frequently; and the introduction was unnecessary, according to our German ideas.'