An iciness seemed to creep over her countenance, under which all the warmth and life which had streamed from it a moment before, seemed suddenly to wither; cold, grave, and perfectly immoveable, she awaited the Count's approach. He now stood opposite, and looked straight towards her. Those were the same mysterious dark blue eyes which he remembered so well, and the same shade still lay in them, but it had become only heavier and deeper. But these eyes flashed somewhat under his searching glance; was it the old (to him incomprehensible) hatred, or was it some other feeling? Hermann, who usually saw through all matters so clearly, did not know how to interpret it; he only felt that it was hostile to him, and that the strange girl was still the same. "I do not know, mein Fraeulein," began he, "whether you will allow me to renew a former acquaintanceship. I can scarcely hope so after the way in which you returned my greeting." "You would oblige me, Herr Graf, if you would forget this acquaintanceship." But Hermann was not prepared for such a repulse as this, she involuntarily irritated him, and just as he had hitherto hesitated as to whether he should approach her, so now he felt inclined to continue the conversation in spite of all. "As you wish; but before we begin to ignore one another, allow me to inform you of something which you are surely not aware of, and which might be painful for you to experience were you unprepared for it." "I know to what you refer!" "You know, and--?" Hermann's eyes completed the question, which his lips could not ask--"and you remain here?" Gertrud's countenance became a shade paler, but she remained unmoveable. "You forget, Herr Graf, that I am in a dependent position here. I have already requested the Frau Baronin to allow me some weeks' absence, but she thinks that the children need my superintendence, and refused my request. I must therefore stay." "If you will accept of my mediation," said Hermann, quickly, "I will go at once to my aunt, and secure you the fulfilment of your wish." "No, thank you, Herr Graf; I wish for your interference least of all." That was speaking plainly enough. Hermann bit his lips and drew back. "It seems to me, mein Fraeulein, that you have a decided aversion to my person. You insulted me once before, just as intentionally. I regret that my approach, should give you cause for it. Be assured that in future it shall not happen again." Gertrud's lips quivered, but she made no answer. The Count bowed hastily, and disappeared. "Well, this is unheard of. Neither my grandmother nor Toni would have put on such airs, and neither of them would have dared to say that to me. 'I wish your interference least.' She condescends, as it were, to dismiss me in disgrace, and I--" The calm, immovable Graf Arnau actually forgot himself so far that he stamped with his foot.