In the drawing-room of the large, splendidly appointed dwelling sat two ladies, the wife of the Count, and her mother, the widowed Praesidentin von Sternfeld, who had left her estates in the neighbourhood in order to visit her daughter, and had now been with her about a quarter of an hour. At the first glance no one would have taken the two ladies for mother and daughter, for, indeed, one could not trace the slightest resemblance between them. The Praesidentin was a woman about fifty, with a not very tall, but powerful figure, and with features, which, indeed, could never have been beautiful, but were now striking from their remarkable expression of energy and decision. There was nothing attractive, nor womanly in this sharply-cut countenance, and her whole appearance coincided with it. Carriage, speech, everything, was short, decided, and commanding, as is usual with any one accustomed to unconditional authority and command. The Countess, on the other hand, was a young, and still beautiful woman, though her form showed but too plainly the devastating traces of severe bodily suffering. The delicate, stooping figure, the gentle pale face, the low, soft voice, all formed the sharpest contrast to the mother's appearance. The subject of the two ladies' conversation was naturally the dreadful event of the morning. The Countess had just related it with renewed agitation; her eyes showed the traces of newly-shed tears, and her pale cheeks showed two burning, feverish spots. The Praesidentin apparently possessed stronger nerves than her daughter; the Countess's agitated relation seemed to make only a very slight impression upon her. The most painful feature in the whole affair appeared to her, that it should have happened in the Count's own house. "Well, I hope they took care to inform you of it gradually?" The Countess shook her head gently. "O, mamma, that was impossible! I heard a shot in my husband's study; and of course I flew along the corridor, frightened to death, and just reached the door as Adalbert opened it for me. He hurried past me to call for help, and--" "And took no notice of you, when it was enough to kill you on the spot!" interrupted the Praesidentin, very angrily. "What incomprehensible want of consideration!" "Ach, Adalbert was so upset himself, so beside himself, indeed, more than I have ever seen him! He seemed quite unnerved, and I understand that only too well. To think that he should have been the one, though against his will, to drive the unhappy man to that terrible step." "Your husband only did his duty," said the mother, decidedly, "and the man suffered the punishment he deserved. He has at least been spared public disgrace, since he unfortunately cannot be called to account in any way." "But he leaves behind a family, a wife, and a child only a few months old--a little girl, I believe."