"I felt the blood mount into my face at these words. I could not conceal the terror with which they inspired me; whereupon the Finanzrath, with a satisfied smile, went on, 'I need only mention the name of one of my friends, of Count Repuin, to convince you how interesting was our conversation about you.' The detested name of that terrible man produced upon me all the effect that the Finanzrath had doubtless expected. It was only by a strong effort that I could keep myself from fainting. Celia noticed my pallor; she had not heard her brother's words,--he had chosen a moment for them in which she was lagging behind to pluck a flower. 'What is the matter, dear Anna?' she exclaimed, in terror; 'you are deadly pale.' In fact, had she not put her arm about me I think I should have fallen, although I soon recovered myself. The Finanzrath offered me his arm, and despatched his sister to the castle for a vinaigrette. I did not dare to refuse his proffered aid, lest I should offend him, and thus I found myself alone with him, forced to continue my walk leaning upon his arm. 'I thank you, Fraeulein Mueller,' he said, as soon as Celia had left us, 'for your readiness to grant me this _tete-a-tete_. It gives me a precious proof of your confidence in me,--a confidence which, I promise you, you never shall regret. Chance has revealed to me your secret; but I give you my word of honour it shall remain buried in my breast.' He then told me how he had learned who I was. Repuin is his friend,--he had seen him in Munich, and one day, while Repuin was engaged in writing letters, had whiled away the time by looking over some photographs in a book upon the Russian's table. Many of these he was familiar with; but his astonishment was great when in one of them he recognized his sister's governess. He waited until Repuin was at leisure, and then his first thought, so he told me, was to ask the Count whether he was acquainted with Fraeulein Anna Mueller, the original of the photograph; but, reflecting that Count Styrum had made it a request that no curiosity should be shown regarding my past, he suspected that I should prefer the Count's remaining in ignorance as to my whereabouts, and therefore he took up the book of photographs again, as if casually, and suddenly exclaimed, 'A pretty face, Count; who is this girl?' showing my likeness as he spoke. "'Not a girl, but a married woman,' Repuin replied. 'Sorr's runaway wife!' "'I could not so command my features,' the Finanzrath continued his narrative, 'as not to show the surprise I felt at this information. Fraeulein Anna Mueller the wife of that Herr von Sorr whom Repuin had presented to me! It seemed impossible! "'And then the shameful words which Repuin had uttered, "Runaway wife." I could not rest without some explanation. Can you wonder at it, Fraeulein Mueller? "The picture reminds me of a lady whom I saw not long ago," I said.