She crossed her hands more firmly across her bosom, and her face looked almost dark, as she went on; but soon it brightened up again, and now she laughs to herself. What is it? She cannot help it. She must think of the expression in Oldenburg's face as she said the other night, when the weather was so terrible and he was just rising to say good-by and to ride home, "Had you not better stay over night, Adalbert?" and he had cast one sharp glance at her, and then refused the invitation with a certain haste and embarrassment. Oldenburg, whose morality was constantly decried so bitterly; who had the reputation of having had countless _liaisons dangereuses_ in his life; so carefully anxious, so tenderly concerned, for the good repute of a widow! Why did he treat her so differently from all other women, of whom he got tired so soon? Will he come to-night? The hour has passed at which the hoof of his Almansor is commonly heard on the pavement of the yard. The young widow looks anxiously up to the dark clouds, which are threatening more and more, and from which now a few scattered snow-flakes begin to drop silently, the first of the season, but melting in a few moments on the black ground. If Julius only would not ride too far! But old Baumann is with him, and that ought to be enough for the most anxious heart. Perhaps they have gone over to Cona and will return with Oldenburg, who has forgotten the hour over his books. They will be half-frozen when they come; it would be better to get tea ready for them.