"No one has the right to criticise my husband or my house. I love them both, and for me they are the most perfect in the world. Those who really love me will do well to remember this and spare me both advice and misplaced sympathy." After which this declaration of war, she went out to meet Wolff and greeted him with a delight and tenderness which was almost feverish, almost too marked. It was as though she were saying to herself: "See how much I love him! And if I love him nothing else can matter." *CHAPTER VII* *WOLFF SELLS A HORSE AND NORA LOSES A FRIEND* In the broad Exerzier-Platz of the Grenadier barracks a little group of officers were watching the paces of a handsome chestnut thoroughbred, which was being galloped and cantered past them for their inspection. Occasionally they exchanged a terse criticism, but for the most part they were silent, intent upon the business of the moment. The shorter of the three men—a somewhat languid-looking captain of the Hussars—followed the movements of the rider with a professional admiration. "Too bad, _Donnerwetter_! really too bad!" he exclaimed, as Arnim at length rode up and swung himself out of the saddle. "That one fellow should have brains and a seat like that as well is a direct injustice. But you are wasted on the Staff, my dear Arnim; sheer wasted. They don’t know what to do with such material—the _langweilige Streber_! But at the head of a Hussar squadron you would cut a figure—_auf Ehre_, I would give a quarter’s pay to have you with Us, and I know a _Cavallerist_ when I see one. Here, let me try him. You would make an old cab-horse step out!" Wolff laughed shortly. "By all means, Herr Graf," he said. "You will find that the credit of the performance is more Bruno’s than mine." He stood aside and watched the Count mount and ride slowly off to the other end of the square. His face had been flushed with the recent exercise and the natural joy which a man takes in his own skill and strength, but Seleneck, who was observing him closely, saw that the momentary animation had covered over unusual weariness—even depression. There were lines between the strongly marked brows which the elder man did not like. They were new to Wolff’s face, and betokened something more than mere mental strain. They indicated trouble, and trouble also of a new kind. With an affectionate movement, Seleneck slipped his arm through Wolff’s and led him a little apart, as though to point out some special features in the Count’s equestrian performance. In reality he was indulging in the grumble which had been choking him for the last hour. "What a silly fellow you are!" he said. "You have a horse which most of us would give our ears to possess, and you sell it for about half its value. I could hardly believe my senses when I happened to come down on you in the middle of the transaction. It was the shock of my life."