The two avoided each other as much as possible the whole evening, but their quarrel went no farther, at least, outwardly. The carriages of the guests now rolled in from all sides, and so soon as night descended the whole row of windows in the Castle streamed with light. The centre point and crown of the brilliant company, was, of course, the beautiful Countess Arnau. She appeared this evening more charming and bewitching than ever before, and Eugen hardly left her side for an instant. To-day, for the first time, he ventured publicly to offer her his homage, which Antonie accepted in such a manner as left scarcely room for a doubt as to the impending relations between them. All eyes followed the pair, everywhere one heard whispered observations and questions, as to whether it were possible that the proud, much courted Countess Arnau could really seriously think of marrying a young, unknown painter, who, _quelle horreur!_ instead of offering her the coronet of a Count, could only give her a _buergerlich_ name. What unpardonable extravagance! What a scandal for the family! An old baroness, who was possessed of more curiosity, and more indignation at such improprieties, than all the others, determined to find out the truth at any price, and therefore to turn to the surest source of information, namely, Count Hermann. It was some time before she found him. The Count did not care for dancing much at any time, and did not, as usual, take part in it to-night. The clang of a post horn sounded below on the country road, mixing itself strangely with the noisy dance music. "My dear Count, what in the world are you doing here in this secluded room, at the open window? All the guests have missed you already!" Hermann turned round, with a face on which vexation at the interruption was written plainly enough. "It is oppressive in the ball-room," replied he, very coldly and repellantly. "I found it necessary to get a few minutes' fresh air." "You are right, it is terribly warm there, and the air after the storm is so refreshing! But you are missing too much here--your cousin waltzes so charmingly with your friend, the young artist--_apropos_, my dear Count, is it true then--this report, that the Graefin returns the passion of this Herr Reinert, which he takes no pains to conceal? Does she actually intend to honour him with her hand?" Hermann shut down the window hastily. "I regret, my _gnaedigste Baronin_, that I cannot give you any information upon the subject. I am as little instructed by my cousin as to her intentions as you can be. And, by the way, I think it is becoming too cool for you here, allow me to conduct you back to the _saal_."