“It is at once a dangerous and attractive character. Immense capacities for good are implanted in her nature, side by side with equally remarkable capacities for evil. It rests with circumstances to develop either the one or the other. Being a person who produces a sensation wherever she goes, this noble lady is naturally made the subject of all sorts of scandalous reports. To one of these reports (which falsely and abominably points to the Baron as her lover instead of her brother) she now refers with just indignation. She has just expressed her desire to leave Homburg, as the place in which the vile calumny first took its rise, when the Baron returns, overhears her last words, and says to her, ‘Yes, leave Homburg by all means; provided you leave it in the character of my Lord’s betrothed wife!’ “The Countess is startled and shocked. She protests that she does not reciprocate my Lord’s admiration for her. She even goes the length of refusing to see him again. The Baron answers, ‘I must positively have command of money. Take your choice, between marrying my Lord’s income, in the interest of my grand discovery—or leave me to sell myself and my title to the first rich woman of low degree who is ready to buy me.’ “The Countess listens in surprise and dismay. Is it possible that the Baron is in earnest? He is horribly in earnest. ‘The woman who will buy me,’ he says, ‘is in the next room to us at this moment. She is the wealthy widow of a Jewish usurer. She has the money I want to reach the solution of the great problem. I have only to be that woman’s husband, and to make myself master of untold millions of gold. Take five minutes to consider what I have said to you, and tell me on my return which of us is to marry for the money I want, you or I.’ “As he turns away, the Countess stops him. “All the noblest sentiments in her nature are exalted to the highest pitch. ‘Where is the true woman,’ she exclaims, ‘who wants time to consummate the sacrifice of herself, when the man to whom she is devoted demands it? She does not want five minutes—she does not want five seconds—she holds out her hand to him, and she says, Sacrifice me on the altar of your glory! Take as stepping-stones on the way to your triumph, my love, my liberty, and my life!’ “On this grand situation the curtain falls. Judging by my first act, Mr. Westwick, tell me truly, and don’t be afraid of turning my head:— Am I not capable of writing a good play?” Henry paused between the First and Second Acts; reflecting, not on the merits of the play, but on the strange resemblance which the incidents so far presented to the incidents that had attended the disastrous marriage of the first Lord Montbarry. Was it possible that the Countess, in the present condition of her mind, supposed herself to be exercising her invention when she was only exercising her memory?