We cannot say with certainty whether the lady who was with the baroness really was overawed by her stately appearance, or merely appeared to be so; this much only was evident, that she endeavored at that moment to assume an air which harmonized neither with the expression of her features nor with the costume which she wore. She was dressed in a riding-habit of dark green velvet, which she had tucked up sufficiently not to be troublesome in walking, and not to hide her small feet in their elegant little boots. The tight-fitting dress set off to great advantage the well-rounded outlines of her youthful form; and the little round hat, now lying with the gloves and the whip on a small table near by, must have been exceedingly becoming to the well-shaped head with the rich brown hair, which, simply parted in the middle, was falling in rich waves over forehead and ears, and was then gathered up behind in a wreath. She is seated opposite the baroness, who is a pattern of industry, and sews zealously on a piece of linen, which may possibly become a napkin, while the visitor is busy embroidering a cipher in another napkin. This is strange kind of work to be done in a riding-habit, and the lady does not seem to be particularly fond of it; at least she quickly throws up her head, when the baroness rises in order to look for something in another part of the room, and shows a pretty face, with soft, child-like features, and large brown eyes, full of moist tenderness. Just now, however, the face bears rather the expression of a wilful school-girl, when her rigid teacher's back is turned for a moment. "What were you saying, my dear Anna Maria?" asked the lady, bending once more over her work as the baroness turned round. "I was asking, dear Melitta, whether you had enough red yarn?" Melitta looked as if she were going to say, "More than I want!" but she contented herself with the reply: "I think I have enough." The baroness had taken her seat again and continued the conversation, which had been interrupted for a moment. "Then there if little hope of complete recovery?" she said. "Little or none," replied Melitta, "especially now, since his violent attacks have ceased. Doctor Birkenhain writes that only a miracle can save Carlo from insanity, and I presume that means simply, he is irrevocably lost." "It is a sad fate which the Almighty has decreed for you, my poor Melitta," said the baroness. Melitta shrugged her shoulders, but said nothing. "It was in this very room," continued the baroness, taking it apparently for granted that the subject could not be in any way painful to Melitta, "that I saw Berkow the last time. I must confess that I could not overcome a slight suspicion already, on the evening on which he had that disagreeable quarrel with your cousin Barnewitz, when Baron Oldenburg tried in vain to make an end to the trying scene."