"Because you are the husband of Graefin Antonie. Since that great picture of Antonie, in which you seem to have exhausted your genius, no work of yours has risen above mediocrity." Eugen bit his lips. "I must say you are very--sincere." "And you have forgotten how to hear the truth. I cannot refrain from telling it you frankly." Reinert drew himself up angrily, his vanity would not bear a reproach, the justice of which he nevertheless felt; he was on the point of answering hastily, but Hermann turned away suddenly from him, and looked with strained attention towards the door, which opened at this instant. A triumphant smile quivered round his lips, he had not led Eugen into this ante-room for nothing. He well knew who must pass through it, to fetch the children to their lessons, the former being generally with their mother at this hour--this first meeting must and should be watched. Eugen, too, had turned his head, but he all at once sprang up and became deathly pale, stretching out his arms as if against a spectre, and with a cry of fright, exclaimed-- "Gertrud!" It was, indeed, Gertrud who stood upon the threshold. She knew what awaited her to-day, but she was unprepared for a meeting at this moment, and here. She, too, turned pale, and made a movement as if to fly, but her eyes met Hermann's, which rested upon her face as if he would read her inmost soul. The girl's foot seemed suddenly rooted to the spot; she drew herself up, and returned the glance proudly and coldly. And there was something in her look which was nobler than defiance, and mightier than hate; he saw how a deep red flush rose into her countenance, whilst she met his steadfast glance, but her eyes did not sink. They stood thus for some seconds, then the Count suddenly turned away, Gertrud closed the door behind her, and with firm steps passed by the two gentlemen, disappearing into the neighbouring apartment. Hermann clenched his hand angrily. "Unbending! I knew it! This girl cannot be humiliated; did she not almost compel my eyes to quail before her?" Eugen, who had stood during the whole scene as if rooted to the spot, now seemed to come to his senses. "Hermann, what does this mean? Was that my--was that Gertrud Walter? Did you know--_Um Gotteswillen_, speak--speak!" The Count leaned against the window with folded arms, his face at this moment showed that repellant expression peculiar to him in moments of deep irritation, but there lay an almost alarming brusqueness in his tone as he answered-- "Mademoiselle Walter is at present here as governess in my uncle Sternfeld's house, and has come with them. I can understand that the meeting must be painful to you both, but you see that she possesses sufficient tact to ignore you completely, and as for you, it will be easy to avoid her, as she devotes, herself exclusively to the children, and appears seldom or never in society."