"Thunder and lightning," replied Hermann, "a splendid toilet! But a betrothed should really be a rose-bud, she is perfectly full blown!" "Herr von Blanden has good taste," said Baron von Fuchs to his neighbour, the Landrath, "it is well that our wives have not come with us. It was well feigned hoarseness, and a most justifiable headache which befell them, because I must say--naturally I exclude our wives--we have no beauties in the district who can be compared with her. And they who stayed at home have all happily escaped this sensation. In words they would not have acknowledged this beauty, but at heart they would have bowed before it as the brethren bowed before Joseph, in the dream; they would have tingled with unbounded jealousy to the very tips of their fingers and toes, because whosoever bathes in the pool of Bethsaida knows how to respect the beauty of the Olympians." Blanden and Giulia welcomed their guests heartily, and then seated themselves in two garlanded arm-chairs to receive the homage of the Polter-abend. A merry blast of music announced the commencement of the performance. First appeared lovely water-fairies from the lake. Olga von Dornau led the dance; the daughter of the Sanitätsrath from the district town, the daughters of a retired major, who lived there, and a rich young widow represented the Naiads decked with reeds. The concessions made to the local colouring and faithful costume of the legend, were of varying degrees, the young widow's being the greatest. Olga was the speaker of the Kingdom of the Nymphs-- "With the welcome of sisters we greet thee In thy beauty, our sovereign anew; Long we mourned, never hoping to meet thee, Now thine image again we review. The waters shall mirror thy image afar As in glory and triumph we carry thy car." Thereupon, Cäcilie appeared as the goddess of Song, a wreath of laurels in her hand; behind her, Thalia and Melpomene, which characters were assumed by two of her friends. Cäcilie had composed these lines for herself-- "Silently, sadly, we see you depart, Leaving our kingdom made greater by you, But the laurel of fame must give place to the heart, Happiness there is more lasting and true. Go you to bliss that cannot be measured, And leave those behind who will never forget, Your art as yourself will ever be treasured, O'er your gain we rejoice, our loss we regret." Then Schöner entered as a herald; in sonorous flowing verses he announced the arrival of the new mistress of the Castle, and poured forth praises of the perfection of her beauty and art; he recited these verses with wonted enthusiasm, and received plenteous applause.