The countess laughed loudly, and puffed out a cloud of smoke to the ceiling. "Here it comes! It is either his wife or his Penthesilea that teases him! I hope both may rest in eternal peace before long, for an unhappy husband and a tragedy are as much out of place in this boudoir as the fragrance of eau de Cologne or chamomile-tea--those horrid accompaniments of a sick-room!" "And yet it was you, fairest countess, that inspired me to embalm in classic verse that bold Amazon of antiquity." "That may be, and yet, my good fellow, believe me, Penthesilea herself would have considered it a terrible bore to have to read of her glory in a German tragedy. Come; don't be offended Have a cigar. Do you want fire to light it? Here; I will give you more than you need." And, with a laugh, she leaned towards him and lighted his cigar by her own. "You know you can do whatever you please with me," said Herbert, making a feeble attempt to twist his legs into a more comfortable position. "But take care not to go too far!" "Oho! my Herr Professor would fain mount his high horse?" "No, only take a higher seat," said Herbert involuntarily. "Well, then, sit on this ottoman, you wooden German with no sense of Oriental ease. There! will that do? When you really wish to mount a high horse, I pray you take mine. How often I have placed my Ali at your disposal! Do let me enjoy the delight of once seeing you on horseback! Will you not? Oh, it would be delightful!" "Thanks! thanks! I would do all that you desire,--even go to the death for you,--but it is rather too much to ask me to make a laughing-stock of myself." "Well, then, just take one walk with me, arm-in-arm. Oh, what a face of alarm my honourable gentleman puts on! He will go to the death for me, but not across the street. Ah, what a glorious hero for a tragedy he looks now! Hush! I know just what you would say,--wife, sister, cousins, aunts, good name, reputation as professor,--'great dread,' as Holy Writ hath it, would 'fall on all!' Every coffee-cup and tea-cup in the city of N---- would rattle abroad the startling news that Professor Herbert had been seen escorting the wild countess across the street. But it is all _en règle_ to slip around here in the twilight, and kiss my hands and feet, and then, at your evening party afterwards, shrug your shoulders at the mention of my name. For shame, Herbert! you are a cowardly fellow, fit for nothing but to be a _messager d'amour_ between myself and Möllner." "Countess," said Herbert menacingly, "do not goad me too far, or you will repent it! You know my passion for you--know that I would dare all for a single kiss from your lips; but you leave me thirsty at the fountain's brink,--hungry beside a spread table,--and you heap me with scorn. No living man could endure such treatment!"