"Oh, delightful!" Hilda exclaimed. "I have thought of that lovely Eva so often! I will go this very day to Tausens to see her. We must be together constantly!" She spoke impulsively, but suddenly she paused. "I forgot," she said sadly, "that Leo wishes to avoid meeting these people. Does he know this lovely girl? He cannot wish not to see her. But no, do not answer my question, Herr Delmar. I had no right to ask it. If Leo had wished me to know his reasons for not wishing to meet these people he would have told me them himself. I would rather have you say nothing to me about it." "I thank you, Fräulein von Heydeck. It would have been hard to refuse any request of yours, and yet I have no right to speak of Leo's position with regard to Fräulein Schommer's family without his express permission. Of one thing however I can assure you: Leo can make, and can have, no possible objection to your renewing your acquaintance with Fräulein Schommer." "Are you sure of this?" "Perfectly sure; promise me that you will pay Fräulein Schommer a visit this afternoon, and I will answer for it that Leo shall accompany you." "You will greatly oblige me by doing so, for I could not of course seek out the lady if our guest wished to avoid her." As they talked, Hilda had conducted Paul into the castle and through the rooms to the corridor, at the end of which were Leo's apartments. "You cannot go astray now," she said. "Leo's room lies just before you. You will find him at his easel. He would not go out for fear of missing you. When I called him to breakfast he had begun a sketch, and was so absorbed in his work that he never left it. I did not see it, but I am hoping to enjoy it when it is finished." Here Hilda left him, and Delmar went along the corridor to the last door; he knocked twice without receiving any answer, and then opened it and entered the room. Leo had heard neither the knocking, the opening and shutting of the door, nor his friend's footstep. He was standing lost in thought before his easel, gazing at a sketch of a head, the result of his last few hours' labour. When he had entered his sitting-room in the early morning, refreshed by his night's rest, and had seen the easel by the window with the canvas upon it ready stretched, he had been irresistibly tempted to take up his crayon and enjoy the delight of which he had been deprived for a week. Yielding to this irrepressible desire, he had made a sketch of the fair face that filled his dreams both sleeping and waking. It was so like that he stood now lost in contemplation of it, quite dead to the outer world, not hearing when Paul entered the room, not noticing the approach of his friend, who stood behind him for some minutes in silent admiration of the sketch upon the easel. "Bravo, Leo! You have outdone yourself! 'Tis the most artistic sketch you've ever made!"