I don't know why the sight of the poor traveling players was so repulsive to me. One might almost believe in some prophetic gift of the soul, for I had long been cured of my aversion to actors by Fraeulein Luise's opinion of them. So I did not linger long, but briefly reported to my old pastor how I had found his parishioner in the village--we were now one in heart and soul, including the pastor's wife--and then walked rapidly to the castle. As I turned from the elm avenue into the court-yard, I instantly perceived that something unusual was occurring. A groom was leading up and down a saddled horse, which I recognized from the silver-mounted bridle as Cousin Kasimir's. During the months that had passed since the latter's rejection, he had only come to the castle when he had some business matter to settle with the baron, and never remained to dine or to spend the evening. Yet this surely could not be the cause of the general excitement. Almost all the servants were standing, whispering together, near the staircase, on whose upper step the baron's valet and the cook--the two most zealous gatherers and diffusers of everything that happened in the household--had stationed themselves like two sentinels. They were so thoroughly absorbed in their office of listening, that they did not even move as I passed. True, this task was certainly made very easy for them. Voices were ringing through the spacious entrance-hall in tones so loud and excited that every word could be distinctly heard outside of the lofty doors. Within I saw the master of the house, his face deeply flushed, and beside him Cousin Kasimir, with his hat on one side of his head and in his hand a riding-whip with which he beat time to his uncle's words; behind the glass door appeared the faces of the two children and Mademoiselle Suzon, pressed closely against one another, while opposite to the baron stood a handsome, finely formed man, the cause and center of the whole scene, whom I had no difficulty in recognizing as the manager of the company of actors. He was showily dressed in a blue coat with gilt buttons, black trousers, red velvet vest, and light cravat. Yet, this somewhat variegated attire was by no means unbecoming to him, since it made his symmetrical and not over-corpulent figure more conspicuous. His head was gracefully poised on his broad shoulders; but at first I only saw the lustrous black locks that fell rather low on his neck, then, as he turned his face, the finely cut profile and light-gray eyes, whose expression was both honest and self-conscious. He held in his left hand a pair of yellow gloves and a black hat, while he gesticulated eagerly with his right, making a red stone in his large seal ring glitter.