"Well, after all, she did not die, but grew as fresh and bright as before, and played with my Julius till she recovered her red cheeks and bright eyes. The children had become exceedingly fond of each other, and I should have liked nothing better than to keep the little girl here and have her educated with Julius. The child showed remarkable talents; she was a perfect genius for music. The Brown Countess I should have kept as my waiting-maid, or anything she might have accepted. I offered to let her arrange her mode of life as she chose, if she would only consent to stay here. But it was the old story of the frog and the golden chair. For a few weeks she stood the quiet life, pretty well; and one fine morning she had disappeared--she and the Czika. Afterwards they have repeatedly come back to this country, but they have never visited me here. Isabel is either still angry with me, or she is jealous of me and afraid I might steal her little Czika. And yet she ought to see that I mean it well with her. The people in the village have my orders to do all she may desire; the keeper has been directed not to molest her in the forest, and I myself have abstained from seeking her out, because I do not wish to frighten her away altogether. That is my story of the Brown Countess. Are you still angry with me?" "What right have I to be so?" "Well, you frowned just now in a way which made me feel like a very wicked sinner." "You are pleased to jest. What can my opinion matter to you?" "More than you pretend to think, in your half-assumed modesty. A woman always thinks much of a man's opinion, because she feels instinctively that his head thinks more soberly and thoroughly, though not as quickly as her own. And for you learned gentlemen we have a special respect. You have all of you, about the eye and the corners of the mouth, something mystical, something unfathomable, something----" Oswald could not help laughing. "Yes, you may laugh as you choose. You may not think so, but we, we are afraid of your learning, even when we try to make fun of one or the other among you, who is good-natured enough to offer himself for our amusement There is my Bemperlein, my faithful, good Bemperlein. Well, he is most assuredly no genius, and knows as much of the world as I know of Greek, and yet I invariably succumb when we dispute. That vexes me, when I compare him with our country gentlemen! There are handsome, very handsome men among them, and they look remarkably well in their militia uniforms, with their light mustaches, their sunburnt faces, and bright blue eyes; but in evening costume they look stupid. They are as stupid and lifeless as the faces of horses and dogs. The only one among them who has been to college looks as if he belonged to another world." "Who is this ph[oe]nix?" "Baron Oldenburg."