"With pleasure. I know all your uncle's guests. You know the poetry of my nature. I make no boast; nature's gifts are various, but as a poet nothing interests me more than the study of human feeling and aspiration. You have applied to the right quarter for information with regard to the character and circumstances of all these people." "I am sure of it. I have always admired your obliging amiability no less than your profound study of character." "You do me honour. I am obliging by nature, but I make no boast of it. Question me; I am quite at your service." "To put you instantly to the test, tell me who is the charming girl dressed simply but elegantly in white, there, on the divan to my left, with brown hair and the wreath of snow-drops; the beautiful creature who evidently cares not one whit for all that the fellow with the black beard, leaning over her, is pouring so eagerly into her ear." The Assessor listened with a smile to this enthusiastic description. "Evidently hit, my dear Count," he said. "Not at all; but the melancholy on that charming face interests me excessively." "Poor Frau von Sorr! She may well be melancholy." "Frau? Impossible! You do not know whom I mean." "Ah! yes I do. No one could fail to know from your description, and it is not to be wondered at that you take Frau von Sorr for a young girl: it is the same with every one who first sees her. She is just twenty-two and looks much younger." "And the man talking to her is, I suppose, her husband." "Not at all. That is Count Repuin, an enormously wealthy Russian, a bosom-friend of Herr von Sorr, and a gambler and spendthrift, who throws away his money by thousands. They say Herr von Sorr knows how to pick it up, and that is the secret of the friendship between them, and also why Sorr allows Repuin to pay such court to his wife." "And does she encourage it?" Count Styrum asked. "How deceived one may be by a face! I thought hers so innocent and refined in expression." "And the expression does not belie her," the Assessor rejoined. "Herr von Sorr is a despicable fellow enough, and bears the worst possible reputation; but scandal itself could not touch his charming wife. It is only on her account that he is endured in society in spite of his notorious past and his more than doubtful present. Your uncle would never have invited him here to-night except for the sake of his wife, who is the dearest friend of Fraeulein Adele." "But the Russian----" "Is desperately in love with her. He throws away incredible sums upon her worthless husband, while she sternly refuses to accept any of his attentions. My observation is naturally very keen. I make no boast of it, but it is; and I am convinced that at this moment that poor woman is suffering agonies because, without exciting observation, and for the sake of her good-for-nothing husband, she cannot repulse that fellow indignantly."