There must be something unusual in contemplation. There are mysterious conferences in the small drawing room; long discussions in papa’s study. Confusion reigns in every nook and corner. Mamma has sent round notes of excuse, and is not holding the remaining receptions this season; and Baron Schwarzburg, who seemed to have received no intimation of the change in her arrangements, was greatly astonished the other evening on finding us alone. I noticed papa and Bernhard exchange a hurried glance as he was announced, and that they looked with some concern at mamma. Her manner to him was cold, but not half as cold as that of my Duphot. She has conceived the most inexplicable antipathy to the baron, and has confided to me more than once, with symptoms of extremest aversion, that she looks upon him as an _esprit fort_. He stayed an hour. The happiness I experienced in seeing and hearing him was sadly marred by thinking every instant, “Now he will take his leave, and I shall see and hear him no more, perhaps, for years--perhaps, who knows? forever!” It was an unspeakable surprise to me to hear papa say to him, as they shook hands: “You must look in again and see us before you leave.” I could not help it--I rushed to papa and impulsively kissed his hand. Looking at me severely, he muttered: “What is the matter? You seem to be growing foolish.” _May 30th._--I must write down what has happened--if I can, if my trembling hand will let me, if my thoughts do not chase each other too swiftly. I have kept so calm all the evening, have been able to speak of the most indifferent things with such composure--why then should I feel so painfully agitated now? I certainly did think that my family quietly overlooked the answers _à tort et à travers_ I gave them at first. Could I have been mistaken? They all looked so wise, and the wildest imaginings were flying through my brain. But that was afterward; what first took place was as follows: This afternoon I was sitting alone in the great drawing room, awaiting the return of mamma and Mme. Duphot from church; when the door suddenly opened, and, without being announced, Baron Schwarzburg came in, saying: “I came to say good-by, countess. I start to-morrow.” And I, in my bewilderment, could say nothing but: “My mamma is not at home.” “I know,” he replied. “She will soon be back,” I said. Upon which he bowed silently. I had risen at his entry, and now did not know whether I might ask him to be seated. To leave him standing was too uncourteous. This threw me into a dilemma, and the first few delicious moments of our being alone together were truly uncomfortable. He walked to the window, and for a while appeared to be absorbed in what was passing below. Then he turned again toward me. He was holding his hat in one hand, his gloves in the other, beating them on the brim of his hat. For the sake of saying something, I remarked: “The dust is blowing up very unpleasantly to-day.”