The old lady only laughed at his confession, and then asked, mockingly, "And now you are content to be the very last, etc., etc.?"
He shook his head: "Now it has occurred to me that perhaps I can offer the Countess Erika a small pleasure which none other among her adorers can give her, and I come to ask if she will give me leave to do so."
Erika was silent. Countess Lenzdorff said, "Herr von Lozoncyi, you speak in riddles."
Lozoncyi turned from one to the other of the ladies with a look calculated to go directly to their hearts, and then, addressing the younger one, said, "You perhaps remember that I am in your debt, Countess Erika?"
"Yes; I once lent you five guilders."
"Five guilders," he repeated. "It seems a trifle; but then it was much for me. Without those five guilders I should probably never have been able to reach my aunt Illona in Munich, and I might have starved in a ditch. You see that I owe you much; and in consideration of this fact I have come to ask if you will allow me to paint your portrait."
Erika gazed at him blankly.
"For five guilders?" exclaimed the old Countess, with comical emphasis. Every one knew how difficult it was to persuade Lozoncyi to paint a portrait, and what a fabulous price he asked when induced to do so.
"I entreat you not to refuse me, Countess Erika," he begged, with clasped hands.
"I advise you to accept the offer," said her grandmother: "it will hardly be made a second time."