A large, well-cut mouth, in the sweep of whose lips there was both thought and grandeur; bright, glossy, chestnut hair, rich in hue and crisply waving; fine dark-grey eyes, with level brows, the eyes deep-set and critical in expression; her whole aspect was dignified, and yet there was assuredly a gleam of humour in her eyes, as she stepped composedly on, in her light, softly falling dress and broad plumed black hat. ‘Tell me, Herr von Lemde—you have made a study of the nobility, I know——’ ‘It is true, _mein Fräulein_. What ought a man to study, if not his own order?’ ‘And that _such_ an order! Indeed, you are right. I want to know who that lovely woman near us was, in a dress like a cloud of creamy muslin and lace. I thought she must be a Pole, from her gracefulness and from the spirited way in which she spoke.’ ‘You were right,’ he said earnestly. ‘It was the Princess ——.’ ‘Thank you very much. I feel happier now. Suppose it had turned out to be some Mrs. Smith, or Frau Müller!’ ‘I fear, _mein Fräulein_, that you are a little tinged with——’ ‘But, _liebe_ Sara,’ cried a lady behind, ‘it is getting late, and we have such a long drive.’ ‘Oh, Carla, don’t go yet!’ expostulated, not Sara, but a German girl, dark, handsome, and defiant-looking. ‘It is so fine; and we have not seen the emperor, and, after all, it is not so late.’ ‘Oh, it is quite early!’ said an English girl who was of the party. She addressed as Sara at this moment turned, and the whole group paused, a few paces from the place where the silent watcher sat. He had turned aside as soon as Sara had passed, and was now gazing intently down into the mysterious eddies of the river, his chin propped on his hand. ‘Just as you like, Gräfin,’ said Sara Ford, smiling; ‘it is very nice here, and Herr von Lemde’s society makes dullness out of the question.’ Evidently Miss Ford, dignified though she looked, was not above amusing herself at the expense of a rather stupid young man. Baron Lemde smiled all over his handsome, meaningless face, and dropped a little into the rear, embracing Miss Ford’s shawl with effusion, while she stood, still the centre of the group, and the Countess of Trockenau paused, looking thoughtful. ‘It is too bad of you, Miss Ford,’ said the other English girl in her ear. ‘How can you make fun of poor Lemde and make others laugh at him in that way?’ Sara smiled a bright, frank, disdainful smile, and the Countess of Trockenau said: ‘Well, shall we be going?’ ‘Oh—h—h!’ sighed the younger English girl, with an accent of disappointment. ‘_Mein Fräulein_,’ began Lemde, bending towards Sara, who neither heard nor saw him; or if she did, did not notice him.