“What, have you not succeeded in persuading her against Baron Schwarzburg? I am jolly glad!” “I am not,” responded papa. “It is as I expected. But then, I am no idealist; I know mankind.” Bernhard blurted out, “If he had really been such a Don Quixote as to----” “Be still!” said my father authoritatively. But he continued: “I would have cut him dead.” Here a footman announced that mamma awaited the gentlemen in the small drawing room. They obeyed the summons at once; papa sending me up to my own room. Here I still am. They seem to have quite forgotten me; or else they will have no more to say to me. No one seems to trouble about me. Oh, if I had not you, my faithful Diary, in which to confide my every thought, I should indeed be greatly, greatly to be pitied. [Illustration: Decorative image] [Illustration: Decorative image] EPILOGUE. If you have followed me thus far, kind readers, my thanks are due to you for your constancy. We must now bid farewell to each other. Not only have the Memoirs I so presumptuously undertook to write degenerated into a diary, but even that diary must now give place to a correspondence, the nature of which will forever remain the secret of two individuals. If you care to know how this came about, grant me your indulgence yet a little longer. They left me an unconscionable time to myself that day. It had grown dark, and a deathlike stillness reigned around. Even the most indefatigable songster among my birds had ceased singing, and, all crouched up, was asleep on his perch. How I envied the pretty little creature’s peace of mind. At last I heard the sound of footsteps approaching my door, the tiny step of my Duphot. “Ah, _ma chère_!” she said, mournful and reproachful, as she came in and bade me go with her to my parents. So wild a beating of the heart I do not suppose anyone has ever experienced as that with which I obeyed her behest; it was too agonizing, too dreadful. Besides papa and mamma, I found my brother and sister and Baron Schwarzburg. He stood up as I came in; I, too, remained standing. Papa began: “Paula, your mother and I, not desiring to incur a second time the reproach that the happiness of one of our children----” “Or what she considers to be happiness,” broke in mamma. “Is of less importance to us,” continued papa, “than it should be to parents who love their children, had therefore given our permission to Baron Schwarzburg to speak to you before he left. It has resulted----” “Differently from what we anticipated,” interpolated mamma. “And, as I hear, you are agreed in the idea----” “Or in imagining,” suggested mamma. “That you are made for each other,” said papa. To which I said “Yes.” “Yes,” repeated the Baron Schwarzburg, deeply moved. “Well then, if two people are really made for each other--a thing which very rarely happens--there is but one thing to be done. But it remains to be proved; and proof requires time. Endurance is the proof; so you must wait.”