Crammon, the thrice hardened, had a dream wherein some one reproved him for standing by idly, while his flesh and blood was being sold to an Argentinian ranchman. So he went to the countess, and asked her if she indeed intended to send the tender child into a land of savages. “Don’t you feel any dread at the thought of her utter isolation in these regions of the farthest South?” he asked her, and rolled his hands in and out, which gave him the appearance of an elderly usurer. “What are you thinking of, Herr von Crammon?” The countess was indignant. “What right have you to question me? Or do you happen to know a better man for her, a wealthier, more distinguished, more presentable one? Do you imagine one can be happy only in Europe? I’ve had a look at a good many people. They ran after us by the dozen at Interlaken, Aix-les-Bains, at Geneva and Zürich and Baden-Baden--old and young, Frenchmen and Russians, Germans and Englishmen, counts and millionaires. We didn’t start out with any particular craze for the exotic. Your friend Christian can bear witness to that! But he, I dare say, thought himself too good for us. It’s bad enough that I have to let my darling go across the ocean, without your coming to me and making my heart heavier than ever!” But Crammon was not to be talked down. “Consider the matter very carefully once more,” he said. “The responsibility is tremendous. Do you realize that venomous snakes exist in those regions whose bite kills within five seconds? I have read of storms that uproot the most powerful trees and overturn houses nine stories high. So far as I have been informed, certain tribes native to Terra del Fuego still practise cannibalism. Furthermore, there are species of ants that attack human beings and devour them bodily. The heat of summer is said to be insufferable, and equally so the cold of winter. It is an inhospitable region, countess, and a dirty one with dangerous inhabitants. I want you to consider the whole matter carefully once more.” The countess was rather overcome. Delighted with the effect of his words, Crammon left her with head erect. That evening, when Letitia was already in bed, the countess, with arms crossed on her bosom, walked up and down in the girl’s room. Her conscience was heavy, but she hardly knew how to begin a discussion. All afternoon she had been writing letters and addressing announcements of the engagement, and now she was tired. The little dog, Puck, meanwhile sat on a silken pillow in the adjoining room, and barked shrilly and without cause from time to time. Letitia stared into the dim space above her with eyes that gleamed softly with the mystery of dreams. So rapt was she that if one had pressed a pin into her flesh she would not have noticed it.