Frau von Sellenthin and Ulrich Kletzingk sat together on the terrace, keeping up a somewhat constrained conversation, because both were awaiting, full of impatience, Lizzie's return. A mounted messenger had been sent out to the fields to summon Leo home. Elly, irradiating placid rosy innocence, stitched at her embroidery, which was spread out on her knees; while Hertha, with idle fingers, was on the _qui vive_ for coming events. Even the presence of Ulrich, to whom she had felt drawn long ago in the bonds of a glowing friendship, could not dissipate the panic which the mysterious meeting between the two women had awakened in her. She was the first to become aware of their approach. Walking close to each other, they loomed against the background of the park--the one in her black, flapping weeds resembling a gliding shadow, and the other like a white summer cloudlet. Now grandmamma saw them coming. "Thank God!" she murmured, rolling up her crochet, and giving Ulrich a sign to look round. "Thank God," he repeated, as he kissed the old lady's hand. "Now at last we are at peace." Every one had got up and looked towards the two women as they ascended the steps of the terrace. "Well, I don't think it seems altogether like peace," thought Hertha, observing the expression of bitter chagrin which made her mother's features appear more severe and sour than ever before. Her eyes were searching Ulrich's face. "She looks at him as if she would like to swallow him," thought Hertha. And then she came under the spell of Felicitas's charms, which held her close captive. "Oh, how very beautiful she is!" she said to herself with a sigh. "How I should love to be like her." Greetings were exchanged, and half-murmured, significant words spoken; but Hertha heard nothing, being completely fascinated by the fair stranger whose smile was so melancholy, and who knew how to bow her head with such gentle grace. She had a dim sensation as if hearing music--low, dreamy, strange music, which grew stronger directly the beautiful woman made a movement, and died softly when she sat motionless and silent. When she kissed her husband, Hertha envied him; and when she greeted Elly in a friendly manner, Hertha felt herself alone and deserted. But then the fair creature turned to her and gave her an astonished yet exquisite smile. Hertha glowed to the roots of her hair. "This is, then, Countess Hertha, of whom I have often heard?" asked Frau Felicitas. "Whom has she heard of me from?" wondered Hertha, without daring to lift her eyes. And now she beheld a rounded, snow-white hand stretched invitingly out to her. She would like to have rushed at it, to have kissed it; but in her awkwardness she could only lay three fingers in it uncertainly, and then quickly withdraw them. "You are like a fairy princess, Countess Hertha," she heard the stranger's sweet, soft voice breathe close to her--"so tall and so proud. We must be friends."