and blood, and, if our eyes have not such depth, they flash all the more merrily."

Beate looked at the gambler with seductive glances. He put his arms round her supple form, which only resisted feebly, pressed a kiss upon her lips, but then wrenched himself away, pushed her from him, and cried, as he sprang up--

"Corpo di bacco, I know you, diavola! That is a worn-out game, and I know, too, how the cards are shuffled! You are not indisposed to be the victim of friendship. Aha, that is the cause of this sudden, pretended, fervent love. But where are the witnesses--the dumb walls, the lamps burning down? And, if there were witnesses, they would only be of use so far as separate maintenance is concerned, with which the Signora is not supplied. You have miscalculated, my child! To-day is buried from the world, and to-morrow I shall not know you again."

Beate stood drawn up erectly, the open dagger in her hand.

"You misunderstand me, Signor Baluzzi! Our business is at an end!"

At that moment Kätchen's head appeared in the half-open doorway.

"You called me, Signor?"

"Listener," cried Baluzzi, enraged, "this eavesdropping in my own house! Do not let me catch you a second time. Open the garden gate for the Signora; wait below with the key!"

Kätchen disappeared.

"I require money; I do not yet know how much. I will first learn the result of my business. You are a cunning mediatrix, little Beate, but neither your paws nor your claws have power over me; but if anything be in the air warn her not to venture upon too much, else she may have a narrow escape."

Below Kätchen was whistling upon the key of the gate. She soon conducted Beate, who had drawn the hood over her head, through the garden walks.

The wild cat left the lion's den.

CHAPTER III.

THE MISTRESS OF THE BOARDING SCHOOL.

Da. Reising's credit had done its duty, as was shown by the shining brass plate, upon which the skilful town engraver had etched the words, "Lori Baute's Boarding School," in large, legible characters.

There she sat, a small sovereign of a small state. The first object of her ambition was attained. Indignant as she was at the noise which the classes sometimes made, to her there was even a melodious echo in the tumult. All these noisy beings are your pupils, entrusted to you, given up to your authority, and this turbulence only proves how your school flourishes.

She had adopted a short, decided, dictatorial manner, and practised it before the mirror; she had also pondered over a necessary alteration in her dress, and arrived at the conclusion that her present position required a certain sacrifice, the sacrifice of youth. Fräulein Sohle, her predecessor, had none to make in that respect, she was totally different from her pupils, with the advantage of her maturer years, and with unartificial dignity, such as is united without effort to creases, wrinkles, and a figure which only appears as the physical residuum of an intellectually extinguished spirit.

But Lori was still young; her looking glass told her that she might compete in charms with the youngest teachers, yes, she even looked younger than she was.

School, and that life to which she might still lay claim, were opposed to one another, but she must make some concession. She made up her mind to it, and decided upon the loss of those curls, which the profane world designated "love-locks."

It was not easy for her to relinquish the glossy, youthful head-gear, but the gloomy framework of snake-like curls imparted an otherwise unattainable dignity to her features. To be sure her eyes flashed out all the more boldly, and her tiny person could not possibly transform itself into a Juno. Nevertheless she knew how to inspire respect; wherever she appeared, all noise was stilled, her omniscience was feared, because she knew how to find out by inquisition and torture everything that happened in any portion of her dominions. The governesses were afraid of her and her spies; they felt that every step was watched, without knowing in what tangible form those dark powers dogged their heels.

The older tutors also obeyed the young ruler's will with a certain gallantry; only the young master with the moustache opposed an unbending mind, and appeared to be determined to go his own way.

She was thought to be omniscient, poor Lori! How gladly would she have been so! because unnatural obscurity hovered over one of the most important questions which occupied her. Far away beyond the attained goal her ambition was again striving after new objects--how very different to be a proud châtelaine, and the wife of a nobleman of position--and was this impossible for her?

She sat silently, and counted up all the tokens of attention which Blanden had vouchsafed to her. The sum was a considerable one, if only all the separate posts had been secure--!

Blanden had availed himself of her last invitation in the confectioner's shop to visit Reising, just before his departure to the province, and, indeed, on the same day. Was it merely his eagerness to fulfil a social duty while he had time, or was it liking for, and interest in her poor self?

Dr. Reising had received him very pleasantly. Euphrasia had been agreeable, yes, coquettish--Lori had no other name for it; even Emma had shed the light of her kitchen lantern upon the high politics of the reception-room; and actually Albertine made up her mind to speak.

But he had distinguished her above all the others, talked with her in preference, and she herself had been intellectual, particularly intellectual; she must say that for herself, there are days upon which the silver melts unaided from the mental ore, and becomes liquid, days of an intellectual silvery appearance. Could Blanden be unsusceptible to such silvery looks? For he had been in the province a long time. Dr. Reising had departed with her sisters; she had undertaken the school, it was a time of anxiety. He was far away, she could only preserve his image in her heart, and at rare moments take it out for devout contemplation.

But now he had returned again, she had seen him. Twice he had ridden past her house. Was it chance, or intentional? He had looked up at her windows; did he seek her, or did he only notice the wild noise issuing from one of the classes, the windows of which, in spite of the cold, had to be opened on account of a worn-out stove!

Much more weighty was the fact that for several days she had each morning found a bouquet of hot-house flowers in her vase.

A man-servant had delivered them to the housemaid without giving the name of the donor. In each bouquet was concealed an envelope, in which was a card containing a verse. Such forbidden goods in a girls' school, and to be sent to her, the mistress! But she resigned herself to the inevitable, did not burn the cards, nor did she forbid the reception of the bouquets.

Did they come from Blanden? A blissful suspicion told her so, she believed to find reminiscences of their conversations in some of the verses. Had he not spoken of the solitude of his woods, and did not the first verse begin with an allusion to it?--