"Countess--what does this visit mean--at this hour?" he asked, mournfully, offering her a chair. "Did you come alone?"
"Ludwig brought me and is waiting outside for me--I have only a few words to say."
"But it will not do to leave our friend standing outside. You will allow me to call him in?"
"Do so, you will then have the satisfaction of having a witness of my humiliation," said the countess, quietly.
"Pardon me, I did not think of that interpretation!" murmured Freyer, seating himself.
"May I ask your Highness' commands?"
"Joseph--to whom are you speaking?"
"To the Countess Wildenau!"
She knelt beside him: "Joseph! Am I still the Countess Wildenau?"
"Your Highness, pray spare me!" he exclaimed, starting up. "All this can alter nothing. You remain--what you are, and I--what I am! This was deeply graven on my heart to-night, and nothing can efface it." He spoke with neither anger nor reproach--simply like a man who has lost what was dearest to him on earth.