"The dear, foolish child!" exclaimed Else with a deep sigh, when she had finished the letter--"I grant it with all my heart." And as she thus sat and thought about it--how wonderfully it had all come about, and how happy the two would be in their love--her eyes became more set, her breathing more difficult, and then she pressed her hands to her eyes, bowed her head upon Mieting's letter, and wept bitterly. * * * * * [It is the day of the sale of the Warnow estates to Count Golm, Giraldi is busy with letters, business papers, political matters from Paris and London, and church affairs from Cologne and Brussels. The papers are in English, French, Italian and German, and he makes his comments on each document in the language in which it is written. Among the letters is one from a priest in Tivoli, referring to his child. Bertalde is announced, and says she is tired of having Ottomar in her arms yearning for Ferdinande. She tells Ferdinande of Ottomar's love. Giraldi assures her of his good will toward Ottomar, to whom he has given a hundred thalers. She caresses and kisses Giraldi for it. Antonio is announced, Bertalde is led out by François, but in the confusion Antonio recognizes the girl as the lady in black, whom he had seen in Ferdinande's studio. Antonio gives Giraldi a letter from Justus' desk, which Giraldi notes and returns, asking him to show him other such letters. Giraldi impresses Antonio with his marvelous power to accomplish what he wishes.] * * * * * "You shall see, Carla, he won't come today, either," said Madame von Wallbach, trying to get a more comfortable position in her armchair. "_Je le plains! Je le blâme, mais_----" Carla, who sat on the right, shrugged her shoulders, and made a _pianissimo_ gesture with her right hand. "Miss von Strummin has left, too, without making us a farewell call." "The silly little thing!" said Carla, making the return motion with her hand. "And Else has not even been here to excuse this rudeness." "So much the worse for her," said Carla. "I wash my hands in innocence," said Madame von Wallbach, rising slowly and going into the reception room, which one of the dinner guests had entered. Carla was also just about to rise, but remained seated when she heard that it was a lady, and one, too, of little importance. She dropped her hands into her lap and looked down thoughtfully. "He's not half so clever; sometimes he doesn't understand at all what I say.--I even believe he's _un peu bête_; but he--worships me. Why should I renounce all my admirers for the sake of a betrothed who does not trouble himself about me? Of late he has scared them all away."