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Part 9

Posted on Friday, 24 May 2002, at 2:37 a.m.

After several people of importance in Vienna had received the foreign guests and the local nobility in their houses, the Foreign Minister Metternich, too, had invited everyone of consequence to a ball at his Palais.

Leonie had been looking forward to it for the past few days. Now that the important day had come, she felt ill. Her cough was still there, not really threatening, but annoying her. It annoyed her because she had to hide it from her aunt, otherwise Countess Potocka might order her to stay at home - and that was the last thing Leonie wanted to do. Not after all the trouble she had been going through with her preparations. Besides, Captain Tilney might think she wanted to stay away because of him, and she was not going to pay him THAT compliment. No, she would go to the ball. Perhaps her aunt could be persuaded to go home a bit earlier...she could certainly do that. But not going at all was out of the question.

In the evening, her condition had not improved, on the contrary. She felt tired, her head ached, and an occasional cough was hard to suppress. Her aunt gave her a worried look.

"You would be much better off in bed, my dear child," she said kindly. "We do not have to go, if you do not feel up to it."

Leonie shook her head. "I am perfectly well, aunt, and I want to go. Besides I promised Marie and Theresia to be there. I do not want to let them down."

Countess Potocka sighed. "Very well then, we shall go, but depend on it, my eyes are on you, my dear, and once I notice the least sign of illness, we will be on our way home."

Leonie nodded. "If you wish so, Aunt." It was one of the rare occasions when she did not want to contradict.

Leonie and her aunt went to the von Hertenbergs first. They had promised to take Theresia and Marie along in their carriage, something that had made the Baroness furious.

"Is our carriage not good enough for Mademoiselle," she had asked Theresia angrily, when Leonie had invited her to join her aunt and herself. Leonie had, for one moment, felt like strangling that abominable woman with her own hands. Theresia had once told her about the Baroness's reason for treating her like she did.

In those days when Theresia had still been rich, before her father and brother had died, Baroness Amalia had envied Theresia's wealth. Now that her wealth was gone, Amalia lost no opportunity to show Theresia her real place - which was, according to the Baroness's opinion, even below that of a servant. Servants worked for their living, after all.
Theresia had told Leonie that everyone treated her kindly, everyone except the Baroness, and that she only stayed with the von Hertenbergs because she felt that she was still welcome.

"One word will suffice, and I shall leave Joseph's house without delay," she had once said.

"Where are you going to go then?" Leonie had asked her.

Instead of answering, Theresia had only shrugged her shoulders. "There is always one place or another, and they are all the same to me," she had said after a while.

On seeing Theresia that evening, Leonie thought that her friend would not have any problems in finding someone to marry...if marriage was what she had in mind, that was. Theresia looked quite spectacular in her black dress - and the jewellery made her look like a rich heiress. Her hair was done in a very simple way, but it suited her. The only ornament was a silver comb that kept her hair in place.

"You seem to have made an extra effort tonight, Theresia," Leonie said teasingly.

"I never make extra efforts, Leonie," Theresia answered, grinning. "Usually it is not worth it."

"And, in your case, not necessary," Leonie answered, laughingly.

"Oh, thank you very much my dear," Theresia said ironically.

"You know how I meant it," Leonie said.

"Indeed, I do. Thank God I am so tolerant," was Theresia's reply. "Shall we go now?"

Since Amalia was not yet ready, the gentlemen had to wait for her, while Theresia and Marie got into the carriage with Leonie and her aunt. In a way, Leonie understood the Baroness's anger. It was something to arrive at a ball in a Countess's carriage. But why could the Baroness not just let Marie and Theresia have that honour, without envying them? It was not as if the Baron von Hertenberg was a nobody in society, so why did the Baroness still want to go further up the ladder? If Leonie could not stand one thing in a woman, it was unreasonable ambition. There was nothing to be said against ambition if it was kept under control - but in the Baroness's case, it had become an obsession.

When they arrived at Palais Metternich, Leonie nearly regretted that she had not stayed at home. The crowd was unbearable, and for a moment she felt giddy. Theresia gave her a searching look.

"Are you all right, Leonie? I noticed you were not well yesterday...I hope you did not come here tonight just to please us."

Leonie laughed, saying, "Theresia, I was just as keen on going here as you were. Believe me, I am perfectly well, and anyway - my brother always said that only the strong ones survive."

"I am sure he did not mean young ladies going to balls when they should be in bed nursing their illnesses," Marie said.

"If you knew my brother, Marie," Leonie answered, "you would know that he hardly thinks of anything else but young ladies."

"Indeed?" Theresia gave Leonie a curious look. "So this is why you think so ill of Captain Tilney then?"

"I do not think ill of Captain Tilney, Theresia," Leonie answered. "I like him. But I know his sort, and that is reason enough for me to be careful. I know their flattering ways and I know that most of their compliments cannot be taken seriously. Usually those compliments are nothing but a means to get what they want - and, frankly, I am not disposed to be Captain Tilney's pastime for a few weeks - or maybe a few months, at the utmost, and then be dropped like a hot potato if he finds someone else to set his mind on. I told you what I think of him before - I have not changed my mind about that. If he were not such a flirt, well, that would be a different matter."

Countess Potocka had found a place for herself and "her three young ladies" to sit, and Leonie was quite happy to sit down for a while.

"Who are you going to dance the first dance with, Theresia," she asked her friend.

"Oh, I do not know, really," Theresia answered. "No one has asked me yet. Who is going to be your partner?"

Leonie laughed. "Major Horvāth. He called on my aunt this morning, and asked me to dance the first dance with him, hoping that Colonel Fitzwilliam had not already been there before him."

"Colonel Fitzwilliam?" Marie asked.

"Oh yes, the Major said that whenever he had asked a young lady to dance with him lately, the Colonel had been there before him..."

"But this is not true!" Marie exclaimed. "It only happened once or twice..."

"Much too often for Major Horvāth's taste," Leonie replied, grinning. "Besides, you know him. This is his way of expressing himself."

"What is wrong with my way of expressing myself, Miss Potocka," Leonie heard someone say. In turning around, she saw Major Horvāth, smiling and bowing.

"This is most impolite, sir, creeping up behind us like that," she said, in a reproachful tone. "You know what happens to eavesdroppers, do you not?"

"I know, and I am very sorry, Miss Potocka," he answered, grinning. "But there is one good point about it - now I know everything about how you are abusing me when I am not there."

"You have not the least idea about that, sir," Leonie said with a pleasant smile. "I was only just getting started. I am just wondering why I should still dance with you - your behaviour needs to be punished in a way."

Horvath laughed. "Miss Potocka, I would be scared now if I did not know that you do not have the heart to treat me really ill."

"It is amazing how little you know me, sir," Leonie answered.

At that moment, the English officers joined them. Colonel Fitzwilliam was the perfect gentleman, as usual, greeting Leonie and her friends cordially and reminding Marie of her promise to dance a waltz with him.

"Remember what you told me about practising, Miss von Hertenberg," he said.

Captain Tilney was, though very polite, rather cool in his address and manner. Leonie could not blame him. She had been terribly rude the day before, she had to admit, and so it was only normal that the Captain treated her with more reserve now. Why it did not suit her, she did not really know. She noticed how he asked Marie for the first dance and was glad he had not asked her. But why had she ever thought he might ask her? After the things she had said yesterday, she ought to be glad he still spoke to her.

The first dance started, and Leonie enjoyed herself very much with her partner. Major Horvath was in excellent spirits that night, it seemed. It had been a long time since she had seen him so much at ease and cheerful in her company - or any company. Usually he had been rather absentminded and had kept an eye on his surroundings. The instant Count Bāthory had turned up, Horvath's face had darkened and he had taken his leave as soon as possible. Leonie was glad that Count Bāthory was not here tonight - his absence from Vienna seemed to lift both Marie and Major Horvath's spirits. Leonie had to admit that the Major was a very charming man, if he chose to, although he did not seem to be aware of it.

"A penny for your thoughts, Miss Potocka," Major Horvāth said to her, smiling pleasantly. "That is, if you want to tell me about them."

Leonie laughed. "I would rather not, Major Horvāth, you are conceited enough as you are."

"Conceited? Me? You must be talking about some twin brother of mine, Miss Potocka."

"Do you have a twin brother, Major?"

"None that I know of, Miss Potocka."

"Good! It would have been disastrous for the young ladies' hearts in Vienna if there had been one. I am sure such a team of brothers has never been seen before."

Horvāth laughed. " Careful, Miss Potocka, you are playing with fire again. At the moment it is only me, and I know you too well to fall in love with you, but you might meet another poor chap one day and break his heart."

Leonie noticed how Captain Tilney cast a furious look at herself and Major Horvāth.

"I shall ask for your advice when I need it, Major Horvāth," she answered, smilingly. "I know you very well, too, and therefore I shall not take amiss what you have just said."

"I am very grateful to know that you do not resent anything I say," Major Horvāth said, while leading her back to her seat. "I only thought that as an old friend I could take the liberty to warn you."

Leonie noticed how tired she felt now. Perhaps she should better ask her aunt to take her home...but then she saw Captain Tilney come towards her.

"Will you do me the honour of dancing the next dance with me, Miss Potocka," he asked, coolly. Leonie thought that this was the perfect chance to make up for her behaviour the day before and accepted.

The next dance was a waltz, and Colonel Fitzwilliam had claimed Marie's hand for that dance at once. Marie was happy to be dancing with him.

"I think we are quite safe, Miss von Hertenberg," he said while leading her to the dance. "There are no carpets here."

Marie laughed, remembering how she had nearly taken a fall the other night. " Sir, I think you underestimate me. I can trip over anything," she answered.

" Then I shall have to keep a lookout for promising obstacles, Miss von Hertenberg," he said, winking at her.

Marie wondered why she felt so comfortable with Colonel Fitzwilliam. With any other man, any allusion to that evening might have embarrassed her. She was not like Theresia, who took up a challenge at once and usually won, and she was not like Leonie either, who could flirt with any man, no matter if she liked him or not. Marie was usually the sensible, quiet one, who only said something if spoken to and who felt rather uneasy as soon as a man showed any signs of being remotely interested in her.

She remembered many situations with Count Bāthory, who had a way of looking at her that made her ill at ease every time. Amalia said he loved her ... but how could he do so? Whatever he felt when he was with her, love was not one of those feelings, Marie was sure about that. Count Bāthory had agreeable manners, and he was handsome, but inside...Marie was sure he was not what he pretended to be.

Colonel Fitzwilliam was completely different. He did not need to pretend anything - he was agreeable, and kind, and he made her laugh. With him she never felt that sense of dread she felt whenever she was with Count Bāthory. There was nothing to be afraid of; the Colonel was a totally different sort of man. He seemed to know when she was uneasy, and he reacted on each of her signs at once. Count Bāthory never seemed to notice that she did not like him, or that his mere presence was disagreeable to her. Had Colonel Fitzwilliam been in his place, Marie was sure he would have noticed - and cared - long ago, and would have behaved accordingly.

Leonie had to admit that Captain Tilney was an excellent dancer. Well, he hardly does anything else, she thought, so he'd better be good at it.

He did not talk much at first, although he was polite, asking her how she enjoyed herself, complimenting her on her dancing, and her dress. His manner was rather strange - not the flirting Captain Tilney she knew. He was offended, Leonie was sure about that, and he was determined to show it.

"Sir, I need to apologize for what I said yesterday," she finally said. "I was unfair, and terribly rude."

His expression changed. Leonie noticed how the look in his eyes softened, when he said, "You need not apologize for expressing your opinion, Miss Potocka."

"I should not have done it, nevertheless. I am sorry."

Captain Tilney gave her a weak smile. "Do not make yourself uneasy, Miss Potocka, I have heard people say worse things about me and am still alive, as you see."

The music stopped, and he led her back to her seat. Suddenly, Leonie felt very weak, and nearly fainted. Captain Tilney noticed it in time to support her.

He gave her an anxious look. "Is something wrong, Miss Potocka? You did not seem to be very well yesterday - do you want me to do something for you? Anything?"

Was this the thoughtless flirt Leonie had thought him to be? It was as if he had become another man overnight.

Leonie shook her head. "I am sure it is nothing - I shall be fine in a minute. All I need is to sit down and I will be fine again." Again, her knees went weak, and Captain Tilney caught her firmly round her waist.

Carefully, he led her back to her seat and attracted Countess Potocka's attention.

"I am afraid Miss Potocka is not at all well," he told her.

"Oh, the poor thing," the Countess cried. "I told her we should rather stay at home - she was out of sorts all day, but she insisted on going...well, young lady, there will be no more arguing now, we are going home!"

Leonie felt too weak to protest. She just nodded, and longed for her comfortable bed.

"Can I be of assistance," Captain Tilney asked anxiously.

"If you could just help me bring my niece to the carriage, sir, I would be most obliged," the Countess answered.

"Marie...and Theresia...someone must tell them," Leonie said faintly. "They will be upset."

"Do not worry, Miss Potocka, I shall explain the situation to them," Captain Tilney replied. "Your aunt is right, you need to go home and get some rest now."

He led her through the crowd towards the exit, and helped her get into the carriage.

"Is there anything more I can do," he asked the Countess.

Countess Potocka shook her head. "No, sir, we have troubled you for long enough. Please do not let this incident spoil your evening, sir."

"With your permission, I might take the liberty of calling on you tomorrow morning to see if Miss Potocka has recovered, Madam."

Leonie could not help but feel grateful. Perhaps Captain Tilney was not so bad after all?

"Thank you, Captain," she said quietly.

He gave her a radiant smile and bowed. "It was my pleasure, Miss Potocka. Now good night, and get well soon."

It was hard to tell when Richard had last enjoyed himself as much as he had that evening. When he led Miss von Hertenberg back to her seat after the waltz, he felt sorry that the dance had finished so soon. He would not have minded going on like that for ever, holding her in his arms and never letting go.

"Miss von Hertenberg, I have to tell you that you are the most charming dancing partner I ever had," he said, smiling at her.

She laughed. "I thank you for the compliment, sir, but I cannot believe it. I am sure you have danced with many ladies who were much more charming than I can ever be."

"I cannot remember any, Miss von Hertenberg," he said, light-heartedly.

"Oh, well," she said, sitting down on her chair, "I shall believe you then."

Richard noticed Colonel von Hertenberg, who had been dancing with Miss von Laudeck and was now standing next to her, not willing to part with her, it seemed. If that man was not in love with Miss von Laudeck, no one would ever be.

Miss von Hertenberg fanned herself. "It is quite hot in here, do you not think so, too, Colonel Fitzwilliam?"

He smiled. "Indeed it is, Miss von Hertenberg. Shall I get you something to drink?"

"Oh yes...this would be very kind of you, sir."

On his way to get some wine for Miss von Hertenberg, Richard came across Colonel von Hertenberg, who was, like himself, on his way to get his partner a drink.

Richard thought that this was a good opportunity to tell von Hertenberg about his suspicions concerning him and his cousin - and to see if he was right.

"Your partner is one of the prettiest girls here this evening," he started.

"She always is," von Hertenberg answered, smiling.

"How long has this been going on, von Hertenberg?"

"I am not quite sure what you mean, Fitzwilliam." Von Hertenberg gave him a puzzled look.
Did he really not know or was he just playing silly?

"I am talking about your being in love with your cousin, von Hertenberg."

Von Hertenberg looked at him in disbelief. "How did you guess?" he asked.

"Well, it is obvious, is it not?" Richard said. "I saw you with her before. If I have ever seen a man in love, you are the one."

"She does not seem to notice, however, so it is not obvious enough," von Hertenberg said with a sigh.

"How did it come about," Richard asked. "Not that it is my concern, but if you want to tell me..."

"It is strange, isn't it? We have lived in the same house, the same family, for years...I still remember her when she came to Vienna - a thirteen-year-old nuisance, at least that was my opinion of her then."

He laughed.

"You know what it is like - have you ever seen any one more conceited than a young Lieutenant? I haven't - and Theresia was just like today...she brought my feet back to the ground. Had no respect at all...I hated it, I can tell you."

They both laughed, and Richard tried to imagine a thirteen-year-old Miss von Laudeck getting on her cousin's nerves. Actually, it was quite easy to picture her like that.

Von Hertenberg's face became more earnest again. "Then I went off to war. I came home from time to time, I saw her grow up, and she was like a sister to me."

"A sister?"

"Yes, that is what I thought, at least...I noticed how talented she was, how intelligent, and wondered why she was so completely different from other girls her age. She has never been the sort who pretended to be stupid just to make a man feel comfortable with himself. On the contrary. Actually, I think no man who does not have at least a certain amount of self-confidence could feel comfortable with Theresia."

Richard had to admit that it was so. Certainly men who did not feel too sure of themselves dreaded her.

"But I never noticed anything particular in my feelings for her - until I came back home last year."

"What happened?"

Von Hertenberg laughed.

"This is a good question, indeed, Fitzwilliam. What happened? I do not know what happened. I came home, and on my first evening at home I was just walking down the stairs when she came back from some shopping trip or whatever... She had not met me before, did not know I was there. She saw me, ran up to me, kissed me on my cheek and told me how happy she was to see me."

Richard laughed. He could imagine the scene very well...

"She asked me if I was all right, and took particular care to make me feel at home that evening. I think that did it."

For a moment, von Hertenberg was silent, then he went on, bitterly.
"It is stupid of me to believe that anything will ever come of it, though, so let us not talk about it any more."

"Excuse me, von Hertenberg, why do you think so?" Richard could not quite follow von Hertenberg's train of thought.

Von Hertenberg did not answer the question at first, and Richard did not want to ask any more.

Then, when they were on their way back to the ladies, he said, "You asked me why I thought so. For several reasons, really. First, perhaps all she sees in me is the big brother she once had - and has no more. What if I come up to her and tell her that I love her - in a not at all brotherly way? Can you imagine the shock she might feel? How awkward it would be to stay in the same house, in the same family? No, I'd rather be quiet for the rest of my life."

Richard had not considered that possibility. Yet, he disagreed.

"And watch someone else snatch her away from you? Horvath has been right, men in love seem to throw their wits overboard."

Von Hertenberg shrugged his shoulders, pretending that this did not worry him.

"I cannot help it. Sorry, I am just too scared that she might say no ... that she might find the whole idea ridiculous, if not worse."

"The whole idea of your marrying her, you mean? Why should she? Looks like you are a good match for her."

"I do not think she is looking for a good match, as you put it. Actually, I think she is too proud to marry a man just for his money or his position. The fuss she made because of that book made that absolutely clear to me ... once again."

"What book?"

"I found a book in a shop the other day and I thought it might interest her, so I bought it. The trouble was that she did not want to take it as a present from me. I had to persuade her that I would only let her borrow it. As if she were not welcome to have anything I own - for as long as she wants."

They were now nearly back with the ladies.

Von Hertenberg sighed. "Well, perhaps I may one day have the courage to tell her, who knows..." He went towards Miss von Laudeck, apologising for his being gone so long, and was quite himself again.

Richard watched Miss von Laudeck. She did not look like a young lady who was not at ease with her companion - and, as far as he could tell, she did not treat von Hertenberg like one would treat one's brother. Richard decided it was time to ask von Hertenberg's sister what she thought about that matter. Perhaps Miss von Laudeck had given her a hint or two as to how she felt about Colonel von Hertenberg.

He was not successful, however. Miss von Hertenberg agreed with him that Miss von Laudeck and her brother were a pretty couple to look at, but she was sure that none of them was in love with the other.

Shortly after that, Captain Tilney returned to them, telling them that Miss Potocka had fallen ill and had therefore gone home.

"Oh, poor Leonie," Marie said. "And she was so looking forward to this ball."

"She had this cold yesterday," Theresia said pensively. "Let us hope it is nothing serious. One cannot be too careful about these things."

"Indeed, one cannot," Tilney answered. Marie had the impression that he looked a bit depressed.

"Let us hope for the best," Theresia went on. "I shall call on her tomorrow, and I think she will already be up and about tomorrow morning. No need to worry now, is there?"

Everyone agreed with Theresia, and yet Marie had the feeling that Captain Tilney felt anxious, though he did his best to hide it.

The next morning, Theresia and Marie went out early to call on their friend.

"Did you notice how troubled Captain Tilney looked yesterday," Marie asked her cousin.

"I did. Well, consider his situation. Anyone would be troubled if a lady nearly faints into his arms."

"If we took his reputation into account, this would be what he had been dreaming of," Marie said.

Theresia laughed. "Not really. I think Captain Tilney is not as bad as he might look. His only problem is that he has never really been in love. Believe me, he will be an absolutely devoted husband once a lady has managed to capture his heart."

"I believe that there have been some women who tried to do that."

"Which was wrong tactics, I am sure." Theresia grinned.

They entered Countess Potocka's palais and were taken to the Countess's morning room.

"We wanted to know how your patient is doing," Theresia said, once they had greeted the Countess.

"Oh, the dear girl," Countess Potocka sighed. "She is not at all well, she is. Feverish, with headaches, and that cough is quite troubling me, I can tell you. She should not have gone out so early, I told her, but would she listen? Oh, what will her uncle say when he hears about it?"

"I am certain that Count Potocki will not blame you, Madam," Marie said. "Anyone can catch a cold."

The servant opened the door, and Captain Tilney walked in. He greeted the ladies politely and immediately inquired after Miss Potocka's health.

The Countess repeated her lament, and Marie noticed that Captain Tilney was getting more uneasy, the more he heard.

"Have you called for a physician, Madam," he asked the Countess.

Theresia nudged Marie and gave her a meaningful look.

"Yes, I have, he should arrive any minute."

Theresia rose. "In that case, we'd better not keep you away from your niece, Madame," she said politely. "Please give Leonie my best wishes for her health. I shall call again tomorrow to see how she is getting on."

Marie, too, took her leave, and Captain Tilney followed their example, offering to walk them home.

* Both Nestroy and Grillparzer were Austrian dramatists during the "Biedermeier" period, and both had - sometimes - severe trouble with the censorship applied by the Metternich regime. Nestroy even got arrested on stage - for expressing his opinion in a way that did not really suit the powerful...

Even Grillparzer had problems with censorship, though he was very careful as to what he was writing. One of his plays was banned for no other reason than that "there might be something wrong with it".

Metternich was Chancellor of Austria at that time, and had established a police state, free press and freedom of speech being something people could only dream of.
During the Viennese Congress, Metternich was one of the most popular hosts, and I cannot help but believe that Grillparzer may have known about his reasons for giving balls... so I let Grillparzer answer Nestroy's question - at least as far as Metternich is concerned.

Part 10

Posted on Wednesday, 29 May 2002, at 3:26 p.m.

The following weeks went by without any interesting events. Since Leonie had fallen ill, Theresia and Marie had gone to visit her every day. Countess Potocka did not want to run the risk of exposing her niece to the cool weather before she had fully recovered, and did not even allow her to leave her room.

This was a source of great anxiety for Captain Tilney, who persisted in calling on the Countess every day and who would have given anything, it seemed, just to see Miss Potocka for one minute.

As the Countess was not to be persuaded, he had taken to another way of hearing news about Leonie - he somehow managed to meet either Theresia or Marie, or both of them, somewhere on their way back home every day, to extract the information he wanted by asking them casual questions.

Had anyone asked him, he might still have persisted that he was NOT in love with Miss Potocka, but he would not have fooled anyone but himself.

One day, Theresia was walking home by herself, when she came across Captain Tilney once again.

"Miss von Laudeck, may I walk with you," he asked her.

"Certainly," Theresia replied with a smile. "Let me guess - you want to know how my friend, Miss Potocka, is doing."

"How did you guess?"

" It was the thing you wanted to know the last three or four times we met," Theresia answered, giving a good-humoured laugh. "I do not object to it, though, do not worry, sir."

Captain Tilney looked at her, seemingly embarrassed.

"It is not as you think, Miss von Laudeck."

"Of course not. Well, to spare you the trouble of asking, Miss Potocka's health is improving every day, and she hopes to be present at the concert next Tuesday. Her aunt does not yet allow her to leave her room, but she intends to beg until her aunt yields to her wishes. That means that she will be among us again VERY soon."

Captain Tilney laughed. "I cannot imagine Miss Potocka begging for something, Miss von Laudeck."

"Neither can I, but I believe she can do it if she thinks it necessary. She really wants to hear that concert, you know."

"Oh, I suppose so. One hardly hears any other talk these days than this concert - is it true that Beethoven himself is going to conduct?"

Theresia nodded, with a happy smile. "I am glad my cousins could be persuaded to go there, too. I would have hated to miss such an occasion."

Captain Tilney laughed. "Understandable, Miss von Laudeck, for someone so keen on music as you are. My father wants to go there too, by the way, so we might meet there."

"Oh, I am sure Miss Potocka will be pleased to hear it," Theresia said with a grin. "Your father is a man of taste, apparently."

"One could say so, yes. Listen, Miss von Laudeck, did you really mean what you just said?"

"Yes, I really meant that your father is a man of taste," Theresia said. She did not want to make it too easy for Captain Tilney, though she liked him and wanted to be of assistance.

"Miss von Laudeck, I was talking about the other thing. Do you really think Miss Potocka will be pleased to hear that we will be at the concert?"

He gave her a pleading look.

"Oh yes, I do. I think she was quite impressed with your gentlemanly behaviour the other night, sir. At least she kept talking about it. You really are in love with Miss Potocka, are you not?" She gave him an inquiring look. They were standing at the front door of the von Hertenbergs' Palais, and she was about to go inside.

He drew a deep breath. "Love is perhaps not quite the word..." He broke off, and started another sentence. "It is really strange, Miss von Laudeck, I have never felt like this before..."

Just that moment, Theresia heard her cousin Carl's swift footsteps approach them, and noticed the curious look Carl gave her and Captain Tilney when he joined them. Had he heard what Captain Tilney had just said? Theresia hoped he had not, or he would have got a completely wrong impression...the last thing she needed was being lectured on proper behaviour by Carl.

Captain Tilney took his leave, asking Theresia to give his best wishes to Miss Potocka, and Carl to join him and his father at dinner that evening.
Carl held the door open for Theresia, and if he had noticed anything of what Captain Tilney had said, he did not mention it. Yet, there was something strange in his manner, something Theresia had not noticed before - an inquisitive look, and false cheerfulness, which was not at all his usual behaviour.

Marie and her family arrived at the concert hall in time to see Leonie enter with her aunt. It was Leonie's first evening out after her illness, and although she still looked a bit pale, she seemed to be in excellent health otherwise - and in an excellent mood, too.
A great deal of people noticed her being back - Leonie had always been popular, but that evening her popularity seemed to reach an unknown extent. She could hardly make her way through the crowd to meet her friends, because everyone wanted to greet her and congratulate her on looking so well.
On reaching Theresia and Marie, she rolled her eyes and said, "Oh dear, had I been ill a week longer, I suppose I would not have been able to stand the welcome here. They are behaving as if I had nearly died."

"Well, you were ill for quite some time, Leonie, and a lot of people were worried about you," Marie said.

Leonie laughed. "Why did they worry? Nothing bad ever happens to bad people."
She gave a look at Amalia, who was standing there talking with a friend of hers.

"What is she doing here? You do not say she came here to listen to the music," she asked with a mischievous grin. "If she did, she should not have covered her ears with that scarf..."

"So much the better if she did," Theresia answered. "For us, I mean."

"Or perhaps she wanted to hear the music like Beethoven himself does," Leonie went on.

"Leonie!" Marie exclaimed. "Your illness seems to have made you completely indifferent to other people's feelings. I never heard such a tasteless joke in my life!"

Leonie looked at the tips of her own shoes, embarrassed. "I am sorry, I just got a bit carried away. Do not mind me, pray, it will not happen again."

Amalia turned to them, with a radiant smile on her face.

"Marie," she called out happily, "look who has come back!"

She moved aside, and confirmed Marie's worst expectations. It was Count Bāthory. Suddenly, the whole evening was spoilt - and it had not even begun yet.

The Count walked over to her and greeted her cordially, telling her how much he had missed her "delightful company" in the past weeks. Marie was not able to return the compliment, she had not only not missed him, but had actually wished he might never come back. Despite the rules of civility, her answer was chilly.

"Have you finished your business in Hungary then?"

"I have," he answered, with a look that made her shiver. Marie was quite sure it was not her face he was looking at.

"It did not take you as long as you had expected at first, then," Marie said coldly.

"No, indeed, I was in a hurry to be back in Vienna as soon as possible."

At that moment Theresia, the good soul, took it on herself to divert his attention from Marie and to make him talk to her instead. Marie had never been as much of Novacek's mind as she was then: there was something of a saint in Theresia.

Meanwhile, the English gentlemen had arrived, and Marie witnessed the first meeting of Leonie and Captain Tilney after weeks during which he had been exceedingly worried about her. She had to smile - Captain Tilney used all the charm he was capable of on her friend, and apparently his charm worked, for the first time. Leonie was very pleasant with him, and seemed to be disposed to like him, after all.

She smiled to herself for a moment, and then found herself addressed by Colonel Fitzwilliam, who wanted to know what amused her so much.

"Oh, it is just my friend, sir. I am happy to see her so well again," Marie replied, smiling at him.

Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed. "So is my friend Captain Tilney, obviously."

"Whereas you are not?" Marie gave him an earnest look - not too earnest, though. There was still a smile on her face.

"You do me wrong, Miss von Hertenberg. I am happy to see your friend back with us - she is a very charming and amusing young lady, but I have to admit I did not miss her as much as Tilney did. Had someone else been ill, I would have been inconsolable," he said.

"You are talking about my sister-in-law, I am sure," Marie answered dryly.

"Oh yes, if she ever fell ill, it would be a loss for all of us," Colonel Fitzwilliam said.

Marie laughed. Obviously he shared her opinion of Amalia. She caught a glimpse of Count Bāthory staring at her and the Colonel angrily.
Perhaps he would now, finally, believe that she did not want his attentions and leave her alone? This would be too good to be true.

During the concert, Marie sat next to Colonel Fitzwilliam - due to some miracle, undoubtedly. It was certainly not Count Bāthory's fault that he was not seated next to her, but Theresia had by some means contrived to sit between them. Whatever Theresia's reasons had been, she did not know, but she felt truly grateful for it.

The music was delightful, as everyone had expected. Theresia sat there listening, spellbound. Marie was sure that even if she dropped dead next to her, Theresia would not notice.

It was now the beginning of December. It had become very cold, but it had not snowed yet. Since the first Sunday of Advent, there were no more balls taking place at court. The Imperial family were strictly Catholic, and that meant that no dancing was supposed to take place between the first Advent Sunday and the seventh of January.

This did not keep other people from giving balls and soirees, however. One of the most celebrated hostesses in Vienna was Fanny von Arnstein, wife of one of the richest bankers in town. Being Jewish, the Arnsteins were not bound to Catholic feast days and customs, and so Fanny von Arnstein had invited the Congress guests and the Viennese to join them at a ball in their Palais.

Richard and his companions, too, had received an invitation, and von Hertenberg had strongly advised them to go there.

"The best company to be had in this town," he had said smilingly. "Baroness von Arnstein has a remarkable talent of gathering the right people around her. She herself is a very intelligent woman - very talented, too. Very fond of music, fond of reading ... believe me, if you have managed to be invited by her, you have made your way into society."

"Will your family be there, too," Richard had asked him anxiously.

"I am sure they will... and I will, too. Believe me, no one wants to miss one of the most elegant events of the year."

"More elegant than the balls at court?"

Von Hertenberg had laughed. "Just wait and see, Fitzwilliam. You'll be amazed."

Now that Richard was in Palais Arnstein, he knew what von Hertenberg had been talking about. Hospitality was not a mere word in this house. Obviously Baron von Arnstein had avoided neither cost nor effort to let his guests have the best of everything - the best food, the best wine, the best music. This evening would certainly be something special.

All this would have meant nothing to Richard, however, had not Marie been there, too. During the past weeks, he had found out what he had been missing in his life - it had been someone like her. In fact, it had been her. Meanwhile, Richard could hardly think of anything but Marie, and he lived for the moments when he could be with her. He had the impression that Marie liked him too - whatever that meant. Of course a woman would never go so far to make her feelings obvious, she was not supposed to, but he was quite sure that his presence was quite agreeable to her. He had flirted with her more than once, and she had always joined him in the flirting game.
Perhaps at this ball he might ask her to meet him privately - there would certainly be one dance or another when he could do that. He did not want to go on like that, he wanted to make his intentions clear to her.

Marie looked as lovely as ever, he thought when he saw her. She was in company with her cousin and her sister-in-law, who gave him a rather sour look. Baroness von Hertenberg greeted him civilly, but something was wrong, Richard could sense that. Since he could not imagine in what way he might have offended her, he assumed that she was just in a bad mood that evening.

When he asked Marie for the first dance at the ball, however, she interfered rather sharply.

"I do not think it is right for a young lady to dance at this time of year, sir."

He noticed how Marie gave her a surprised look. Certainly the Baroness had only just made up this rule. He had to admire Marie for her self-control, though.

"I am sorry, sir, but my sister-in-law is right. We are only staying for the concert and the supper, but we are going to leave before the dancing starts."

She said all this calmly, but the look she gave him told him everything he needed to know. Marie could hardly conceal her distress.

Richard gave her a reassuring smile. He knew it was not her fault.

"Never mind, Miss von Hertenberg. I am sure we will find another opportunity to dance with each other."

"I think so, too, sir. But please do not let this spoil your evening. There are so many pretty ladies around tonight, you will not be in want of a partner."

I will only be in want of the partner I really wish to dance with, Richard thought.

Marie thought she was dreaming when she heard Amalia say, "I do not think it is right for a young lady to dance at this time of year."
Since when did she care for such a thing? Before she had married, Amalia would have danced on Good Friday if there had been a ball.

However, she had to try to keep her cool, since she did not want Colonel Fitzwilliam to feel insulted. He was disappointed as it was, one could see that, although he desperately tried to hide it. Marie could hardly imagine an occasion in her life when she had been as angry as she was just now. Well, Amalia would have to pay for it somehow.
She noticed with satisfaction how Amalia winced when she said that they would leave after supper. Now Amalia was obliged to leave the ball early, although she undoubtedly had wanted to stay longer.

Well, Amalia, you started the whole thing, now you will have to go through with it, Marie thought.

Colonel Fitzwilliam sat down next to her, and stayed with her for a while. Marie was happy to see that he did not blame her for what Amalia had done. She did her best to cheer him up, and she succeeded somehow, by telling him some anecdotes she had heard.

Then Captain Tilney joined them, looking dejected.

"Sir, if I may say so, you do not look as happy as one ought at this occasion," Theresia said to him. She had been remarkably quiet that evening - until now.

"I have to admit that this is the case, Miss von Laudeck," he answered with a weak smile.

"Now, we cannot have that, can we," Theresia said to Marie. "May I know what causes this severe case of bad temper, sir? I am afraid we will have to do something about it."

Captain Tilney shook his head. "It is no use, Miss von Laudeck, you will not be able to do anything about it."

"This is not the sort of answer I am going to accept, Captain Tilney," Theresia said with a teasing smile. "Speak, or else be banished from my presence forever. Well, at least until you have recovered your usual good spirits."

Her comical expression made both Captain Tilney and Colonel Fitzwilliam laugh.

"It has to do with your friend, Miss Potocka," Captain Tilney finally admitted. "She seems to be a rather moody young lady. Yesterday she was very friendly with me - and today she hardly speaks. I wonder what I may have done wrong."

"You will have to ask her about that, sir," Theresia said. "Leonie is not moody as a rule, I can tell you as much. She must have had a reason."

Carl joined their little group now, and cast a curious look at Theresia and Captain Tilney. Had Marie not known better, she would have thought Carl had his own opinion about them talking with each other so much.

The evening went by pleasantly despite Amalia's attempt to spoil it, and on the whole Marie was happy when she returned home. There was only one thing that bothered her. Why had Amalia interfered when Colonel Fitzwilliam had asked her for a dance? She had never done any such thing before, so why did she start acting like that now?

The next day brought an invitation to dinner from Count Bāthory. Marie did not feel inclined to go, but since Amalia was in raptures about the invitation, there was hardly any chance of escape. Apparently Amalia had expected a thing like that to happen, because she was not at all surprised. Something was going to happen, Marie was sure about that, and she talked to Theresia about it.

"Did you ever see Amalia behave like she did last night," Marie asked.

"I must say she manages to surprise me every time," Theresia said with a smile. "I always thought there is a point below which Amalia would never sink - I was mistaken."

"I wonder why she did it," Marie said pensively.

Theresia laughed. "It was obvious! She thinks you are growing too fond of Colonel Fitzwilliam, and since she does not want to give up that favourite plan of hers, she has taken to scare the Colonel away."

"How often did I tell her that I cannot stand the sight of Count Bāthory, I wonder?" Marie sighed. "No one can be that stupid, can they?"

"This has nothing to do with stupidity, Marie, believe me. She simply wants you to marry him, and she does not care about your opinion. - But, do not worry, my dear," Theresia added, imitating Bāthory's Hungarian accent, "I am sure you will get along perfectly in the end."

"Theresia, stop it. This is not funny."

"So true," Theresia said grinning. "I am glad I am as poor as a churchmouse - no one will ever want to marry me for my money. And as for my other qualities, well, there are not enough to tempt anyone."

"Bāthory has enough money of his own, Theresia, he cannot want to marry me merely for my money. There must be more to it."

"As to the more, I am afraid I cannot give you any account. Though the way he looks at you sometimes is self-explanatory."

"I do not want to go there tonight," Marie sighed. "Really, I hate the mere thought of it."

"I have heard that Count Bāthory has also invited the English gentlemen," Theresia said. "And I know at least one of them will be very disappointed if you do not come."

Marie shook her head. "I am sure you are mistaken, Theresia."

"Marie, are you blind? I am sure Colonel Fitzwilliam is in love with you."

"Do you really think so," Marie said with a hopeful smile. "I have not been so lucky lately, and this sounds so.... too good to be true."

"Just keep an eye on him tonight then, and I shall ask you again tomorrow," Theresia answered. "If I am wrong, I shall eat one of Amalia's ridiculous bonnets."

Richard had been thinking of the ball at Palais Arnstein all day. He was sure that Advent was not the only reason why Baroness von Hertenberg had forbidden Marie to dance with him. There had been something else - did she want to give him a hint? Did she want to show him that Marie's marriage with him would be against the wishes of her family? He longed to ask von Hertenberg, but decided not to. In a way he was afraid of the answer he might get.

He met von Hertenberg and Horvāth in the café that day, just before he had to get ready for the dinner with Bāthory. Horvāth was furious because Bāthory had also invited him and his mother to dinner.

"I'd like to have the nerve of that man," he ranted. "But there's one thing even worse - my mother actually wants to go there. I told her that not even ten horses could drag me across the threshold of his house, and you know what she said? She told me to let bygones be bygones. How can she even think of forgiving him, I wonder? By God, she was her daughter!"

"So, you are not going to come along with your mother," von Hertenberg asked, unmoved by his friend's outburst.

"I'd rather walk all the way to Elba to pay Napoleon a visit," Horvāth snapped.

At that point, von Hertenberg thought it advisable to change the topic, and they talked about the ball at Palais Arnstein instead. Von Hertenberg regretted that they had had to leave so soon.

"I do not know why my sister-in-law insisted on going home so early," he said. "Her, of all people. I would have thought she'd want to make the most of the evening."

Richard took this as another hint that the Baroness had definitely wanted to keep him away from Marie. But why? He did not dare ask, instead he told von Hertenberg what had happened after the von Hertenbergs had left the ball, and wondered why von Hertenberg frowned when he told him that Tilney had been trying to make himself agreeable to Miss Potocka all evening - "with his usual success in that matter, though."

"Do you think he is fond of Miss Potocka then," he asked earnestly.

"I would not know - never talked to him about it," Richard said. "But it looks like it."

Von Hertenberg nodded thoughtfully, but did not say anything.

"Well, I'll be off now," he said, finally. "I shall see you tonight, Fitzwilliam - and Horvāth, we shall meet tomorrow, shall we not?"

"Unless my dear brother-in-law has poisoned the lot of you, yes," Horvāth answered.

"What are you going to do tonight, anyway?"

"Oh, I have a dinner engagement - an old friend of mine has come to town last week - all the way from Marburg - and has insisted on my coming to see him. Not much of a friend, really, I admit, we have not seen each other for years, but, well, one has to do one's duty, right? Besides, it shall be more pleasant than dining with Bāthory."

"Your friend did not come all the way from Marburg only to see you though, did he?"

"By the manner he talked to me when we first met here, one might even suppose so," Horvāth answered, grinning. "No, actually he told me that it was his wife's wish to come here. I guess she plagued him until he had to give in....do you not think we are lucky, not being married?"

"You may think so now," von Hertenberg replied, with a smile, "but I am sure I shall live to see the day when you change your mind."

On seeing Count Bāthory's Palais, Richard was impressed against his will. He had not really thought this man capable of such taste, and definitely Richard's estimate of Bāthory's wealth had been far below its real amount. The house was one of the most beautiful ones Richard had ever seen - even his Aunt Catherine would be impressed, and that certainly meant something. Richard had to suppress a grin. What would Aunt Catherine say, were she here this evening?
She would probably comment on the carpets, and the marble hall...and she would most certainly comment on the portrait of the late Countess, saying that she was "a pretty sort of person, to be sure", but that she definitely lacked "your cousin's calm attitude - I do prefer calmness in a lady, I cannot stand such impertinent liveliness in women" (at least she said so since Darcy had married Elizabeth Bennet).
The likeness had probably been taken early in the Countess's marriage. The picture showed a very beautiful young woman with dark hair and eyes, and it gave the viewer the impression that she might step out of the frame any moment, joining the fun. The artist had been a good one - he had been able to capture the sparkle in her eyes, and her liveliness. Richard regretted that he had never met Countess Bāthory.

Count Bāthory, however, did not seem to hold this picture in high esteem. He did notice that Richard looked at it, and only said, "It is quite nice, is it not? Though I wanted to remove it - one should be able to forget about the past at one point, and then, it is not really a masterpiece."

Remove his dead wife's portrait? Richard began to believe that Bāthory was perhaps even worse than von Hertenberg had pictured him, after the incident with Horvāth.

Mrs Horvāth was more eager to talk about her daughter. She spent about a quarter of an hour describing "her dearest Ilona" to him, and Richard bore with it patiently, feeling that no one else would listen to her fond memories in this house.

Marie seated herself with them, and gave him a warm smile from time to time. While they went to the dining room, she said to him, "You are a very kind man, Colonel Fitzwilliam."

"No, I am not, not really," Richard answered.

"Yes, you are. I have hardly seen Mrs Horvāth so comfortable, at least not since her daughter has died. It was very kind of you to listen to her."

She gave him one last smile before she took her seat, and they were not able to talk with each other any more during dinner.

It was after dinner, and the gentlemen had gathered in the billiard room to have a smoke and some brandy. When the others left to join the ladies, Richard wanted to go with them, but Count Bāthory held him back.

"Would you like to try some of my Cognac? It is really excellent," Bāthory said , with a fake smile. Though he sounded pleasant enough, his message was clear. He wanted to talk with Richard, and he wanted to talk alone. Bāthory's tone suggested that he was not used to being contradicted in such matters.

"Why not?" Richard decided to keep up pretences for the time being, and to see what Bāthory wanted.

Bāthory filled two glasses with brandy and handed one to Richard. "Do take a seat," he said, still in a friendly way, but way too friendly for Richard's taste.

Richard sat down, waiting. He was sure that Bāthory would not beat about the bush for long, but would get straight down to business.

"You know I was not in Vienna these days, do you," Bāthory finally began.

"So I have heard, yes," Richard answered warily.

"Have you? Indeed," Bāthory said. There was something in his tone Richard did not like at all.

"Do you know my reasons for going to Hungary," Bāthory went on.

"No, I do not," Richard answered. "It is not as if it were my business to know them, and so I did not ask."

"Ah yes, this explains a lot," Bāthory said with a cold smile.

"I beg your pardon?" Richard gave him a surprised look. What the heck did Bāthory want?

"I went there to visit my estate, and to make some changes there. Some things need to be done before the new mistress arrives."

"You are going to get married, sir?" But why the...hang on! He did not mean...?

"Yes, Miss von Hertenberg and I are going to get married...it is not official yet, of course, but I have high hopes that we may be married next spring."

Bāthory leant back in his chair and watched the devastating effect this piece of news had on Richard, with apparent satisfaction.
Marie was going to marry Bāthory? But why had no one ever given him a hint? After all, Marie did not seem to be fond of Bāthory....

"It has been a favourite wish of mine - and her brother's wish, too, I may add," Bāthory continued.

"What about her wishes," Richard burst out before he could stop himself. Now Bāthory would know exactly how he felt. Bad tactics...

"Her wishes?" Bāthory raised an eyebrow. "What about them? Colonel Fitzwilliam, in this country, and especially in our social class, marriages are usually an arranged business, and usually the woman is not asked if she wants to or not. She will just have to submit to her guardian's wish - if she knows what is good for her." There was not the tiniest hint of any feeling in Bāthory's voice.

Richard now understood exactly how Horvāth felt in Bāthory's company. He, himself, had no other wish but to knock Bāthory senseless. Instead, he drained his glass. There was only one way to get over this situation - drunk. He heard Bāthory go on with his speech, without really listening.

"You see, Colonel Fitzwilliam, I quite like you - you are a pleasant fellow, to be sure, and I have nothing against you, certainly not. I am sure your...attentions were only directed to Miss von Hertenberg because you were not informed of her family's plans for her future, and I wanted to put you on your guard before much harm can be done. I should have done so earlier, I suppose, but I did not realise it was necessary until I came back. I hope you will forgive me."

Richard was sure that Bāthory did not care at all if he felt resentful towards him or not. Besides, Bāthory seemed to relish the whole situation, and he certainly did NOT feel sorry for anyone.

He quite likes me...oh yes, one can see THAT, Richard thought.

"You are very fond of her, I presume," he finally managed to say.

"Fond? Oh, well, she is a nice girl, and she has the right looks, if you know what I mean."

Richard did know what he meant and had to resist another urge to knock him down. What a scandal this would be...Richard Fitzwilliam punching the host's face at a dinner party.

Bāthory had refilled his glass, and Richard was glad he had at least one thing to hold on to.

"Besides she has a nice dowry, that is, in fact, more important to me. She is young, she is healthy, and tolerably pretty. I am not getting younger, and I need an heir sooner or later. These are my reasons for marrying again. Love - or even fondness - has nothing to do with it, nothing at all. I had a wife who loved me, once - she got on my nerves after a few weeks. I think Miss von Hertenberg will be the right wife for me, she will keep her nose out of my business."

"A marriage of convenience, then?" Only, convenient for whom?

"I see you understand me. I knew you would," Bāthory said with a satisfied smile. "And I know that you, as a man of honour, will not trouble Miss von Hertenberg with your attentions any more, will you? You do not look like the sort of man who meddles with engaged women."

Bāthory rose and said, "Let us join the rest of the party now. If there are any questions where we were for such a long time, let us just say we had a nice talk...in a way that is not a lie, is it?"

Richard could not quite agree with Bāthory on that point. They had certainly had a talk - but it had been the most painful one he had had in his life.

When they entered the drawing room, Richard felt Marie's gaze resting on him, but he could not bring himself to join her group. She was sitting by the pianoforte with her cousin, her brother, Miss Potocka and Tilney, discussing the sheets of music and trying to determine what Miss von Laudeck was to play next.

One look at her was enough to make Richard feel more miserable than he had ever felt. How was it possible that such a lovely creature could be sold off into marriage by her own family? Of course, he knew that such things did take place - even his own aunt had wanted to arrange a marriage for her daughter, without giving Anne's own wishes a thought. But knowing his aunt Catherine as he did, Richard was certain that she had still had Anne's happiness in mind - whereas everyone who had their wits about them could tell that a marriage with Bāthory would make Marie wretched. Why did Baron von Hertenberg want his sister to marry Bāthory? Their being friends was not a sufficient explanation, in Richard's opinion, especially because as a friend Baron von Hertenberg must be informed of Bāthory's unhappy first marriage. Even the younger brother, the Colonel, knew much about it - would he just stand aside and do nothing when such a thing was settled? But then, Colonel von Hertenberg was the younger brother, and that probably meant that he did not have any influence in such matters anyway - he could advise, but could not make any decisions. Perhaps the idea was just as painful for von Hertenberg as it was for Richard himself.

Richard did not trust himself to be with Marie without raising her suspicion, and therefore he took a seat next to Mrs Horvāth and Countess Potocka, listening to the ladies' discussion of local gossip. Here he could go on pondering without causing suspicion, because the two ladies did not want him to answer. He did very well, pretending to listen to them and at the same time pondering away.

He watched Bāthory join the group by the piano, and saw how Marie's manner changed from cheerfulness to disgust. The sight broke his heart. Was there nothing he could do for her?

Suddenly he heard von Hertenberg's cheerful voice say, "Now, Fitzwilliam, you do look gloomy tonight. Is there anything the matter?"

Richard forced himself to smile. "Not at all."

Von Hertenberg gave him an inquisitive look, but if he suspected something, he did not say so. Instead, he said, "Will you not join us? My sister sent me here on the sole purpose to ask you, she was getting quite worried about you, sitting here all by yourself - well, nearly - and looking like ten days of rain."

"Your sister is worried? About me?" She had noticed how unhappy he felt?

"Indeed, she is, and she sent me over to inquire if everything was all right."

Worried...about me... It was a comforting thought, although it was only a small comfort.

Smiling bravely, Richard said, "I am fine, really...I only think that Count Bāthory's brandy is getting the better of me. I suppose I did drink a bit too much tonight, and liquor makes me feel a bit melancholy sometimes."

Von Hertenberg laughed. "Do you want me to tell her that you are drunk?"

"You'd better not - what impression that would give her! Just tell her that there is nothing really wrong with me."

Nothing that she should know - she has enough problems as it is.

"Are you going to come over now?"

Richard shook his head. He could not bear to be near her, not tonight.

"I think I shall be off soon," he answered. "Before the brandy does its work and I am no more able to walk."

"So you make me the messenger bringing your bad news to my sister? Well, at least they do not behead them any more..."

Richard forced himself to laugh. He did not want von Hertenberg to grow more suspicious than he already was. No one was to know what had happened.

He stayed where he was for another half hour, and then took his leave. This was the worst moment of the evening - he had to say goodbye to Marie. He noticed how she looked at him anxiously, obviously not at all reassured by her brother's report.

"You are leaving already, Colonel Fitzwilliam," she asked, quietly, looking into his eyes searchingly.

Richard nodded, unable to speak. He tried to avoid her gaze - those eyes of hers were so beautiful, and she was so concerned...

"What a pity, sir," she went on, sadly. "Well, get home safely then. Good night."

He bowed to her, keeping up a faįade of politeness. He knew one thing for certain. This was not going to be a good night.

Continued in the next section