Gabrielle had the rich bloom and bright hair of her mother, the Hainaulter; but Ernestine, though she addressed me least, interested me most. In form she was finer than the most beautiful statue; her hands and arms were of the most pure and perfect form that a sculptor of the highest class could conceive; and yet, if I could make any distinction in their Samaritan attention to me, little Gabrielle was the kindest of the two. When comparing the calm, even, reserved, and well-bred style of their conversation, with the bold and forward manners of Prudentia, I felt nothing but anger and disgust at myself for having yielded so completely to her spells and her snares; and yet the beauty of that Spanish dancer was worthy of a higher sphere and better fate. During these two days we became quite intimate, for under such circumstances friendship ripens rapidly; and hearing them addressing each other by their Christian names, I soon learned to do so likewise; but the regimental sobriquet (M'Combich), by which I had introduced myself to the count, puzzled them sorely, and they styled me Herr Kombeek. The youngest requested that I should simply call her Gabrielle; but when I addressed the eldest so unceremoniously, she gave me at times one of her proud but quiet smiles. Her reserve piqued me a little, too. "Lady Ernestine," said I, "why is Gabrielle so much more kind to me than you!" "I am sorry you should think there is any difference," she replied, bending her dark eyes mildly, but inquiringly, upon me; "yet, perhaps, it may be so--she has a reason for being kind to a soldier, but I have none." "And why does she never wear ornaments or gay colours--and is one moment so merry and the next so sad?" "For the same reason." "What may this reason be?" "You are very inquisitive, Herr Kombeek," said Gabrielle, bending her blushing face over her embroidering frame. "Twice I have observed her countenance fall when I spoke of the defeat at Lütter." "Her betrothed fell in that _victory_," replied Ernestine; "she is quite a little widow. Hence the gravity that occasionally clouds her merry heart, and hence, perhaps, her kindness to you--a wounded soldier--for the sake of our lost friend; for the poor Conde de Lerma was scarcely ever on the footing of a lover. He considered his marriage as a thing that must take place, quite as a matter of course." "And you, Ernestine, have you no lover in yonder camp to make you anxious for the chance of war?" "Ah, yes! Herr Kombeek," said Gabrielle, clapping her hands; "question her a little now." Ernestine replied only by one of her proud smiles, and adjusted her ruff. She was offended. "You must, you must have many," said I, sighing upon my lace pillow; "for men will love you, whether you permit them or not."