"You do not reply, Fräulein Schommer," Paul continued, so gravely that Eva could no longer suspect him of a sneer. "You hardly seem to trust my words, and therefore you force me to say more than I had intended. Do you remember what you said yesterday,--your bitter lament over the misfortune of being too rich?" "Yes; why do you ask?" "You never uttered truer words than those then spoken. Yes, it is your greatest trial, as it is my own, to be 'too rich.' Your wealth has poisoned your soul. Conscious of these wretched riches, you receive all who approach you with haughty disdain, believing them attracted solely by the glitter of your gold. Such was your treatment of Leo, the noblest and most disinterested of men, and the cold contempt of your manner cut him to the quick. And this is not the worst,--an unkind word can be atoned for by kindness,--Leo would not be implacable any more than you will be so, but--you are too rich. He loves you, Fräulein Schommer. Your image is so deeply engraven upon his soul that it stands upon his easel at this moment wrought by his hand, so like you that it almost seems your living, breathing self. He loves you, but you are 'too rich.' Not your cold reserve, but your miserable money, repels his pride. That fortune, which is a bait for the avarice of a--Bertram, is a barrier between yourself and the man in whose affection you might find the deepest bliss attainable in this world. But enough of this. I have presumed incredibly, I know, but I hope not past forgiveness when you consider how profound is that regard for my friend, in which I refuse to believe that you take no 'interest.' Fräulein Aline is looking at us in surprise at our withdrawal from all part in the general conversation, and we must really devote more of our attention to these excellent trout." Delmar had seized a happy opportunity, when the rest of the circle were variously absorbed, to prepare Eva's mind thus for Leo's visit. He had succeeded; the girl's glowing cheeks, and the dreamy expression of her dark eyes, told him how profound was the impression he had produced. She did not reply, her heart was too full for words. Beloved by Leo! No, this was no ironical jest of Delmar's; he had spoken in the tone of intense conviction. She could not doubt his words; the consciousness, vague although it was, of being loved by the man whose image she had so cherished in secret, filled her with a sense of blessed content which not even the knowledge that she was separated from him forever could at first disturb.