A practised horseman might well have lost his stirrup through such an interruption of the swift gallop, but the young Amazon kept her seat perfectly, punished her horse by a smart cut with her whip, as she exclaimed, "What are you about, Pluto?" and then, as with a strong steady hand she reined him in, looked to see what had caused his terror. A stranger in the Hohenwald forest! Celia had reason enough for astonishment, for she could scarcely remember ever having seen any save the people of Hohenwald upon her father's estate. And this was an elegantly-dressed stranger, no forester or peasant, but a young man evidently from the higher walks of society. Now a well-educated young lady would certainly have found it becoming in such an unexpected encounter with a stranger in the lonely forest to display a certain amount of embarrassment, perhaps of timidity. Not so Celia. She scanned the intruder upon her father's domain with a long, searching look,--the sensation of fear she knew only by name, and there was no cause for embarrassment. She was at home here, upon her native soil. She had a perfect right to ask the stranger bluntly, "How came you here? Who are you?" The stranger bowed very respectfully. "I think," he replied, "that I have the honour of addressing Fraeulein von Hohenwald." He was evidently a very polite and agreeable young man,--"the honour of addressing Fraeulein von Hohenwald." Celia suddenly felt very much grown up. Hitherto she had been only Celia. Even the servants, who had known her from infancy, called her nothing but Fraeulein Celia. Fraeulein von Hohenwald sounded delightful. She quite forgot to pursue her inquiries, and answered, "Yes, I am Cecilia von Hohenwald." Again the stranger bowed low, and taking a little card-case from his breast-pocket, produced a visiting-card, which he handed to her, saying, "I must pray your forgiveness for presenting myself in this informal manner as your nearest neighbour." Celia read the card. "Kurt von Poseneck!" she exclaimed, and the tone of her voice as well as the expression of her eyes manifested such surprise and even terror, that for Kurt all the inherited hatred of the Hohenwalds for the Posenecks found utterance in this brief mention of his name. When the Amtsrath Friese, his uncle, had told him of the fierce hatred between the Hohenwalds and the Posenecks that had been handed down through generations, Kurt had laughed heartily, but now when he thought he saw that this insensate hate had taken root in the heart of this lovely child, he was filled with a sense of painful regret. "What have I done to you, Fraeulein von Hohenwald," he said, sadly, "that my name should so startle you?"