'No, mother; don't trouble yourself to try and discover a likeness,' interposed Edmund. 'I certainly have but a vague remembrance of my father; but, you know, we possess a portrait life-size, which was taken when he was in his prime. I have not a single feature of that face, and it really is strange, when you come to think of it, for in our race the family traits have usually been especially marked. Look at Oswald, for instance. He is an Ettersberg from the crown of his head to the sole of his foot. He is in every feature an exact copy of the old family portraits in the gallery yonder, which from one generation to another went on reproducing the same lines and contours. Heaven only knows why this historical resemblance should be denied to me alone! What are you gazing at me in that way for, Oswald?' The young man's eyes were, indeed, fixed on his cousin's face with a keen and searching scrutiny. 'I think you are right,' he replied. 'You have not a single Ettersberg feature.' 'That is but another of your venturesome assertions,' said the Countess, in a tone of sharp rebuke. 'It frequently happens that a family likeness, absent in youth, grows striking as the person advances in years. That will, no doubt, be the case with Edmund.' The young Count laughed and shook his head. 'I doubt it. I am formed in altogether a different mould. Indeed, I often wonder how I, with my hot, excitable blood, my thoughtlessness and high spirits, for which I am always being lectured, could come of a race so desperately wise and virtuous; in fact, rather slow and stupid from overmuch virtue. Oswald, now, would represent the family far better than I.' 'Edmund!' cried the Countess indignantly. It was uncertain whether her remonstrance applied to the young man's last assertion, or to his irreverent mention of his forefathers. 'Well, I ask pardon of the shades of my ancestors,' said Edmund, rather abashed. 'You see, mother, I have none of their traditional excellences, not even that of sober sense.' 'My aunt was meaning something else, I fancy,' said Oswald quietly. The Countess pressed her lips together tightly. Her face plainly betokened the dislike she had avowed to the cold, searching eyes now resting upon her. 'Enough of this dispute on the subject of family likeness,' she said, waiving the point. 'Tradition affords at least as many exceptions as rules. Oswald, I wish you would look through these papers. You have some legal knowledge. Our solicitor seems to consider the issue of the affair as doubtful, but I am sanguine, and Edmund is of my opinion, that we must follow out the matter to the end.' So saying, she pushed the papers, which were lying on the table, across to her nephew, who glanced at their contents. 'Ah, yes. They refer to the lawsuit against Councillor Rüstow of Brunneck.' 'Good heavens! is not that business settled yet?' asked Edmund. 'Why, the suit was on before we left home six months ago.' Oswald smiled rather ironically.