"I did not send him the invitation, my dear child." "You did not send it!" Elsa started up quickly; her expressive face showed surprise and annoyance. "How can you excite yourself so over such a trifle, my dear child? It occurred to me, just as I was giving the letters to August, that we are going to give another party in a few weeks, to which we must invite Major Müller and some of that set; the Captain can be asked with them." "But why should he be!" exclaimed Elsa; "I remember that evening at Golmberg, when, without intending it, he was almost the only speaker at the table, and gave Count Golm besides a lesson which it is to be hoped he has not forgotten." "That is exactly what decided me," said Sidonie; "just that warm discussion which you and your papa told me of between the two gentlemen--the two gentlemen, you hear, Elsa, I make no distinction of rank. We are giving a party in honour of the Count, and as a return for the civilities he showed you. Would it be courteous, would it be becoming, to invite at the same time a gentleman--mark that, Elsa--a gentleman with whom he has had at his own table--tranchons le mot!--an altercation!" "But he deserved the lesson." "And I suppose is to have a repetition of it here." "That he certainly will not. Captain Schmidt is courtesy itself." Sidonie stopped in her walk, her good-natured eyes looked almost sharply into Elsa's face, which was flushed with the warmth of the dispute. "If I could not see into your heart, Elsa, as clearly as in a looking-glass, I really should not know how to explain the perverseness which leads you to praise the courtesy of a simple merchant-captain at the expense of your aunt's. Child, child, do not you bring sorrow on your dear papa, who already takes such a gloomy view of life; and on your aunt, who lives only for her 'Court Etiquette' and for you." "I do not understand what you mean, aunt," answered Elsa, blushing up to the roots of her hair. "Nor I either, thank God," answered Sidonie, wiping her eyes; "only I get so anxious when I see your papa so out of spirits, as he was this morning when he gave me Aunt Valerie's letter; he never answers her letters himself, although this last one is really so touchingly humble, that I shall find it very difficult to be severe with her again." "How can one be severe with a person who is so unhappy as you say Aunt Valerie is?" "Child, you cannot understand," answered Sidonie; "you must trust to your papa and me. There are things which can never be forgiven." "Not even if one is sorry for them, as Aunt Valerie evidently is? Is it only a brother who is to be forgiven until seventy times seven, and not a sister also?" This was another of Elsa's terrible ideas which Sidonie did not know how to meet. Her kind eyes looked around as if seeking for help, and rested at last on the trellis, where they wandered up and down.