“Was it her fault, Mrs. Burnham,” asked the count, “that the man who won her affection did not marry her?——” “My dear Louise,” said Mrs. Kendrick, begging the count’s pardon for interrupting, “I think you had better retire. It is getting rather late for you.” “No; let her stay, my dear madam. I am not going to say anything that the Virgin Mary herself might not hear. Let her stay. I see she listens intently, and if to-night she gains a broader conception of the true position of her sex, you will hereafter rejoice in the fact. She is a pretty, a charming girl, just coming into the glare of the footlights on life’s stage, with bandaged eyes. This is what you mothers all do; and then if they stumble for want of eyes to see the trap-doors of the stage, you blame them—not yourselves. Teach a girl to know herself—to consider all her functions as worthy of admiration and respect; teach her to be independent, proud of her womanhood, and she will turn as instinctively from the seductive words of selfish men, as from the touch of unholy hands. Now, this little woman, Miss Dykes, had no such teaching, no knowledge of the world whatever, no standard by which to measure the honor of men’s motives; and, for believing and trusting, you, Mrs. Burnham, and other Christians, would stone her to death. But Nature is kinder than you are, madam, for it pardons her weakness, and compensates for her suffering by a most precious gift. Her child is one of the very brightest and loveliest I have ever met.” “It is certainly a very charming little thing,” said Mrs. Kendrick, “and her mother’s conduct is now, I believe, every way exemplary. I am truly sorry that her child is illegitimate.” “Illegitimate!” repeated Von Frauenstein, as if speaking in his sleep. “Why, all children must be legitimate. How _can_ a child be otherwise? I must be a barbarian. I can see nothing in the same light that others do. Well, by heaven! I’ll adopt that child, if her mother will consent. I’ll take her abroad and educate her. I’ll give her my name, and present her at a dozen royal courts. There’ll be no question then, whether she is begotten by law or by the more primitive process of nature.” The company were astounded. “Good heavens, count!” exclaimed Mrs. Kendrick, breaking the silence that followed this speech. “Would you really do such a thing?” “Yes, my dear friend. I’ll do it—so help me God! and I’ll bring her back to Oakdale, when her education is finished, a perfect queen of a woman. You call her illegitimate, madam, and yet the time may come when you’ll be proud to kiss her hand!” Mrs. Kendrick rose from the table, and the others followed. Miss Charlotte had retired some time before. Kendrick, who could not imagine for a moment that the count was serious, was disposed to take the matter as a good joke. “If your knightly passion is the adoption of bastards, why have you never adopted any before? I think this is the first. Isn’t it?”