“In that case, permit a lady who will soon be more closely allied to you, to ask where you were yesterday, Count?”
“Count! I do not think that I am so unfortunate as to have lost my noble father yet, my lady countess.”
“Certainly not; that was not my meaning. It is better to become a count by taking a wife than by losing a father.”
“One is no better than the other, noble lady.”
The countess, although slightly confused, made up her mind to laugh heartily.
“Come, the stories that I have heard are true. Your manners are somewhat boorish; but you will grow more used to accepting gifts from fair hands when Ulrica d’Ahlefeld has put the chain of the Order of the Elephant about your neck.”
“A chain indeed!” said Ordener.
“You will see, General Levin,” resumed the countess, whose laugh was somewhat forced, “that your intractable pupil will not consent to receive his colonel’s brevet from a lady’s hand either.”
“You are right, Countess,” replied Ordener; “a man who wears a sword ought not to owe his epaulettes to a petticoat.”
The great lady’s face darkened.