"And the lovely fairy?" "Will never be an evil fairy for you. Adieu, and come soon." She nodded smiling, and hurried back to the castle much lighter of heart than she had been a few minutes before. While Hilda was acting as guide to his friend, Leo had remained in the castle garden with his uncle. The strange scene of which he had been a witness had made a disagreeable impression upon him also. While it lasted he had observed his uncle narrowly, the profound horror he had testified at sight of Delmar, a horror increased by hearing his name, and the effort it had cost him to regain his composure. At last the morbid interest with which the old man watched Paul while he was present, and with which he followed his retreating figure until it disappeared behind the wall of the courtyard, vanished. For the first time Herr von Heydeck seemed to breathe freely, although his mind was apparently still occupied with Paul alone; he did not turn to welcome the nephew who had come upon his pressing invitation to visit him from distant Germany; he did not ask after the brother whom he had not seen for thirty years; his first words were of Paul. "This Herr Paul Delmar is your friend?" he asked Leo, with a keen, suspicious glance. "My dearest friend from my childhood." "Ah? from your childhood? You have known him, then, a long while?" "We were playmates and schoolfellows; we grew up together. He is a few years older than I, but the slight difference in our ages never interfered with our friendship." Again the old man shot a sharp glance of suspicion at his nephew; but seeing that Leo met his gaze freely and frankly, he shyly averted his eyes. Lost in thought, he walked silently by Leo's side, forgetting that the duties of hospitality demanded that he should conduct his nephew to the castle; he was lost to the present and buried in recollection of a time long past. Tormenting memories which he had long laboured to forget, but which would not be forgotten, arose within him more distinctly and more tormentingly than ever: they filled his mind; his nephew was forgotten. Leo did not disturb his uncle's revery, and was very glad not to be expected to converse. He watched keenly the varying expression in the features of the old man, who was all unconscious that a scrutinizing eye was endeavouring to read his very soul. He would else have put a force upon himself; his hand would not have been clenched, nor would so gloomy a frown have appeared upon his brow. And certainly he would have controlled the angry twitching of the thin lips that gave so hateful an expression to the wrinkled face.