And now, when, after Count Repuin's departure, she gayly entreated her friends to forget the unpleasant scene they had witnessed, and when, seated at the supper-table, she did all that she could to dissipate Frau von Sort's melancholy and win a smile from her, she seemed to her cousin more enchanting than ever. She so managed the conversation that neither Frau von Sorr, who could not soon forget what had just occurred, nor the Assessor, who was rather ashamed of the part he had played, was obliged to talk much, while Count Styrum was drawn on to speak of his travels, and this all the more willingly as he felt he was seconding Adele's efforts in so doing. The Count had resigned from the army at the close of the war, and, that he might be prepared for the management of the large estates to which he was heir, had spent a year in attending the lectures at Tharandt. Then, in company with a former comrade in the army, who had been his fellow-student also, Baron Arno von Hohenwald, he had travelled for a year in Belgium, Holland, England, and Italy, being finally called home by the death of his father. The Count was an admirable narrator as well as observer: no one could throw more interest than he into the details of his travels, and on this occasion he surpassed himself. Not only did Adele listen with sparkling eyes, now and then asking an eager question, but Frau von Sorr was gradually aroused to attention and interest. The Assessor alone was very silent and not at all comfortable. In addition to the mortifying consciousness that he had failed entirely to undertake the defence of Frau von Sorr against Count Repuin, he could not help experiencing a decided envy of Count Styrum, who was thus monopolizing the conversation, and evidently making a favourable impression upon Adele.