The baroness had found herself inclined to follow Felix's advice, to take a more active part in the social intercourse of the surrounding nobility. She had reflected on it for some time, and then formed her decision. Not a day passed now that the family was not either invited out, or, more frequently, entertaining company at the château. People seemed to be delighted at seeing Castle Grenwitz once more the place of meeting for all the busy idlers of the neighborhood, and thus regaining its ancient fame for hospitality. They approved highly of Anna Maria's determination to exchange the convent life which she had led so far for a new life, more brilliant, and more suitable to the old renown of her noble family; they paid her so many compliments on her powers of conversation, her talent to arrange large entertainments, that she tried to plead the absolute necessity for such an outlay before her own conscience, when it charged her with recklessness in going to all the expense paused by the unusual hospitality. It had happened in this manner that Oswald had met once more with several persons whom he had seen at the ball at Barnewitz; but none of those for whom he felt a special interest. It was a remarkable accident which brought one afternoon almost all the persons together who had then become better known to him. Some had been invited, others had come by chance. Thus he saw, with very different feelings. Baron Barnewitz and his wife Hortense enter the room; then Count Grieben and a few others; but his interest in the matter became a very special and downright painful one when at last, and quite unexpectedly, another carriage drove up, bringing Adolphus and Emily von Breesen, with their aunt, whose toothless mouth and sharp tongue Oswald had by no means forgotten. "This way, my fine young gentleman," cried the old lady, when she noticed him after the first introduction. "Why did you not come to see us, as you promised? Was that my reward for holding you up to my nephew as a pattern of a well-bred young man who knows what he owes to ladies? And for praising your pronunciation of French to my niece? Are you very much ashamed? I honor you with my displeasure!" "I do not deserve it, madam," said Oswald. "I was not able to come as I would have liked to do; and even if I really should have committed such a sin of omission, I am sure I have lost enough to be spared the punishment of your displeasure." "Oh yes--fine phrases, you never want them. You are not less uncivil, I fear, than the other young men; you are only a little less awkward, and I see I shall have to pardon you. Here is my hand, and now see how you can make your peace with my niece without her scratching out your pretty eyes."