Dreads to think of a dark wintry day.
'The stranger who goes,
Where the summer wind blows,
Dreams that brightness and beauty shall last.
But too oft as he strays,
Where life's fountain plays,
He turns with regret to the past.
'Yet sometimes he strays,
Where life's fountain plays,
And pleasures unfading are met.
Where the balmy breeze sighs,
'Neath the soft Southern skies,
His soul can all sorrow forget!'
The next day Count Otto came again. Contrary to his usual custom, Franz remained at home, and he sought, by lively conversation and jovial manners, to efface the remembrance of the painful scene of the previous evening. He seemed determined to entertain his guest himself without any assistance from Giuliana, with whom Otto had, therefore, very little communication. Thus several days passed, yet the young count did not seem to think of his departure, although Franz often reminded him of it by drinking to his safe journey home.