He commenced at once about Magdalene, whom he rejoiced again to have met. Then they admired the pleasant walk, the fine view, and the bright moonlight; and at length they wandered off into a comparison of their favorite writers, whom they discussed with an animation that astonished a very prim and proper couple, who walked just behind them, alternately answering with yes and no’s, to questions asked at minute intervals.
By the time they returned to the saloon, Franzchen felt almost as if they were old friends, and thought how much better one free and earnest conversation was than a thousand silent meetings.
“I like the count very much,” she said, as she returned with Magda to their room, after the company had dispersed; “and he talks so much of you.”
“You do not wonder so much now, that I could forget Carl Engleford, while thinking of him?”
“No.” Franzchen was obliged to confess that she was no longer surprised at it.
It may easily be imagined that the two friends rose rather late upon the ensuing morning; but that was the custom in that noble house—and the midday sun was shining brightly when Lisette entered with the coffee.
Magdalene and Franzchen sat opposite each other in their loose morning-dresses, and entered into a regular gossip, as they sipped their coffee, on the events of the preceding day.
They talked over the kind though stiff baron, the ambitious baroness, the condescending landgrave, and last, but not least, the agreeable young count.
“I always had a high esteem for him,” said Magda, “from what I have heard of him. And I think he is more truly polite and polished than any one I have ever met with.”
“I think so, too,” said Franzchen; “he is so gentle and kind; and I like so much to see his eyes twinkle, when he says any thing merry.”