"Two; and it is strange and touching to see how she rears them. Often she treats them like dolls, and amuses herself for hours by dressing and undressing them, dragging them around the room, and then suddenly dropping them in some sofa corner, head down and feet up. Then again, she talks gravely and tenderly to the little creatures, and tries to instil good principles—it is too comical. But she is a delightful creature, oh, a delightful creature——"
The banquet was over, honor was done to the last toast from brimming champagne glasses, and the guests went to the drawing-room. Several minutes elapsed before the gentlemen had escorted the ladies to their chairs, and the arrangement appointed according to rank and precedence, which had governed the seats assigned at the table, had yielded to free gathering in groups. Mrs. Burgess had dismissed her lieutenant with a somewhat curt bow, and took her place before a beautiful little Menzel, which she examined a long time. Frau von Jagerfeld and Bergmann released themselves almost at the same moment, the former from her old general, the latter from his banker's wife, and again found themselves side by side.
"Do you want me to introduce you to Ada?" she asked, quickly.
He bowed silently, and offered his arm. On reaching Ada, she lightly touched her on the shoulder, white as mother-of-pearl, with her fan, and when the lady, somewhat surprised, turned, Frau von Jagerfeld, smiling pleasantly, said: "My dear child, let me present to you our best friend, Dr. Bergmann. I must devote myself to the rest of my guests, and, unfortunately, have not time to tell you all the good I think of him. But you will discover all that is necessary for yourself. You know, my dear, that you are the two most interesting people here. It is fitting for you to be together." With these words she rustled away to address a few kindly words to the architect of the castle, who was surrounded by a numerous group.
Bergman stood before Mrs. Burgess, gazing at her gravely and intently. The more at ease of the two, she sat down on a sofa and, with a gesture of the hand, invited him to take the arm-chair in front of it.
"Frau von Jagerfeld has talked of you a great deal, and very enthusiastically," she said, in a musical, somewhat deep, resonant voice, which thrilled his every nerve like the sound of bells, and as he bowed, she added, smiling mischievously: "And of me to you; I watched you at the table."
"Yes," he answered, "and enthusiastically, also."
"She is a kind friend, I know." A brief pause followed, which she abruptly interrupted. "You are a physician, and in spite of your youth, a famous one—modesty is unnecessary. It is strange—I like physicians, and yet I fear them."
"Why?"
"Yes, why? I like them because they are usually earnest, talented men, who have experienced much, know much, and from whom new and remarkable things can always be learned. I fear them because they have no illusions."