“Then pray show it in your manner and bearing. You acknowledge that you esteem the count, and have every reason so to do, then why conceal the sentiment?” said mamma. “I entreat you, dear child, to let your esteem for him be made more evident.” She glanced meaningly at papa, and now he began begging me to show my esteem for the count more openly; asking how it was that I, so pleasant and amiable to people in general, should observe such a cold and distant manner to this admirable young man. Alas, I could give him no answer. It was a question I had too often vainly asked myself. The trivial faults which struck me in the count were as nothing compared to the good qualities he possessed in the eyes of my parents. And so I promised them from henceforth to be much more courteous and attentive to him than I had been before. But even this did not quite satisfy my dear ones. “See, Paula,” said my father earnestly--and his voice was agitated--“see, dear child, your sister’s marriage with Edward has brought her happiness and placed her in a brilliant position. No man could be a more affectionate husband than he, and so true a _grand seigneur_. Your brother, after having caused us much anxiety by his thoughtlessness, has settled down into the right way; and thus we can look forward to both their futures with easy minds. All we desire now is to be able to feel that your happiness is insured.” “And that we should do,” began mamma afresh, “if you, dear child, would receive the count’s attentions favorably.” “Yes,” resumed papa, “that would make us happy and contented.” He stretched out his hand to me; I seized it and kissed it, and suddenly felt a sharp pain in my eyes, and as through a quivering mist saw his dear face become more and more gentle and tender, and then the dear voice began: “Besides----” But the words which usually followed upon this beginning were wanting. I waited yearningly--in vain. They remained unsaid. That night, on going to bed, I prayed more earnestly than ever; and yet my prayer was that of a foolish child. I prayed for strength to obey my parents gladly and cheerfully; I ought to have framed my prayer quite differently--that I was quickly to be taught in the immediate future. On the 24th of April, 1882, one of the most perfect days I can remember, we were driving in the open carriage in the Prater, papa and I. The horse-chestnuts were beginning to blossom, the delicate green of spring diffusing its halo all around; that green so tender and so unspeakably joyous, just emerging from its winter covering into the golden sunlight, all unconscious, as yet, of storm or scorching heat.