But with the cruelty of love, which seeks to measure the strength of responsive passion by the very pain it has the power to inflict, the beautiful woman curbed the fire kindled in her own pulses and said carelessly: "We have interrupted your tête-à-tête, we will make amends by retiring."
"Countess!" he exclaimed with a look which seemed to say: "Is it possible that you can be so unjust! My Mother, Mary, was with me, she brought her son something to refresh him at his work, why should you interrupt us?"
The simple words, which to her had so subtle a double meaning, explained everything and Madeleine von Wildenau felt, with deep embarrassment, that he understood her and that she must appear very petty in his eyes.
Ludwig Gross drew out his watch. "Excuse me, it is nine o'clock; I must go to my drawing-school." He bowed and left them, without shaking hands with the countess as usual. She felt it as a rebuke, and a voice in her heart said: "You must become a far better woman ere you are worthy of this man."
"Would not you like to know Mary? May I introduce her to you?" asked Freyer, when they were alone.
"Oh, it is not necessary."
"Why, how can you love the son and not care for the mother?"
"She is not your mother," replied the countess.
"And I am not the Christ. Why does the illusion affect me, and not Mary?"
"Because it was perfect in you, but not in her."