"You are terrible," said Madame von Brandt. "I shudder before you, for I believe you have no human emotions in your heart of iron."
"There are higher and nobler considerations, to which such feelings must yield. But see, the count has finished his poem. To work now, my beautiful ally; today you must perfect your masterpiece; and now, farewell," said the count, kissing her hand, as he left her side.
Madame von Brandt approached the young count, who seemed to be again lost in thought. She placed her hand lightly on his shoulder, and whispered, half tenderly, half reproachfully, "Dreamer, where are your thoughts?"
"With you," said the count, who trembled and grew pale at her touch. "Yes, with you, noblest and dearest of women; and as that tiresome gossip prevented me from speaking to you, I passed the time he was here in writing."
"But you did not remember," said she, tenderly, "that you were compromising me before Count Manteuffel, who will not hesitate to declare in what intimate relationship we stand to one another. Only think of writing without apology, while a lady and a strange gentleman were at your side!"
"The world will only exclaim 'What an original!'" said Count Voss, with a foolish, but well-pleased smile.
"But it will also say that this original shows little consideration for Madame von Brandt; that he must, therefore, be very intimate with her. The reputation of a woman is so easily injured; it is like the wing of the butterfly, so soon as the finger touches it or points at it, it loses its lustre; and we poor women have nothing but our good name and unspotted virtue. It is the only shield—the only weapon—that we possess against the cruelty of man, and you seek to tear that from us, and, then dishonored and humiliated, you tread us under foot!"
"You are weeping!" cried the count, looking at his beloved, in whose eyes the tears really stood—"you are weeping! I am truly a great criminal to cause you to shed tears."
"No, you are a noble but most thoughtless man," said Madame von Brandt, smiling through her tears. "You betray to the world what only God and we ourselves should know."
"Heavens! what have I betrayed?" cried the poor frightened count.