"Gracious Princess,--Waldor has just left me, after handing me, for transmission to you, the enclosed telegram, on the contents of which I beg to offer my hearty congratulations. I am sorry I must do so in writing, for a few hours hence I shall leave this--secretly--not to return. Business that will brook no delay makes this imperative, and I have not told Waldor of it. He hopes to find me here this evening, that I may be a witness to the amazement which the announcement of your engagement will cause in this friendly circle, as all obstacles to it are now removed. I am sincerely sorry that I cannot afford him that pleasure--for to him it would really be a pleasure. "I regret it the more, because I must prepare a worse disappointment for him. For I consider it, in the interest of our _protégés_, to be desirable--necessary, if you wish--that you, My Lady, should also leave to-morrow; without waiting for Waldor's evening visit. The communication which you were resolved to make to our fair young friend Erna, before Waldor had given you _plein pouvoir_ (which he now begs to do through me), will only have the right calming effect if you strike the proper note on Erna's heart, and then let it ring out full and clear. In life, as on the stage, a good ending has to be provided for. This is missed if one lingers on the stage, when once the decisive word has been spoken. "And what about the communication itself? "I should deem it presumptuous on my part, were I to venture to advise Claudine's clever friend on this point. She knows that one is compelled to say the whole truth only in a court of law. In life it is sufficient, nay, it is often requisite in the interest of humanity, to say nothing but the truth, to be sure, but, of the truth, only what is needful and useful--to use the words which Lessing puts into the mouth of his wise Jew Nathan. "And, now, let me add to my requests, a word of deep and sincere gratitude that you deemed me worthy to make the acquaintance of Claudine and of yourself. Your friend is perhaps more interesting and intellectual--at least you said so--but your heart is a thousand times more noble. "I have always paid due respect to intellectual capacity; but before a noble heart I gladly and reverently bend my knee." Silence had for a long time been reigning again in the mansion-house. The combat, too, though it had commenced in the immediate vicinity, was now being continued a long way off, and one only heard something like the rumbling of a distant thunder-storm. The candles on Bertram's writing-table had all but burned down to the sockets; he turned his wearied eyes towards the window, through which the dull grey morning light was coming. Konski came into the room. "What time is it?" "Just five, sir." "So late? Well, I am ready. Did you get hold of a carriage?" "It is waiting at the bridge below." "Did you get if from the mayor?"