Otto sprang upon the paper, read it, and cried out aloud. 'O, God
bless her!' he said, 'God bless her.' And he kissed the writing.
Von Rosen was a singularly good-natured woman, but her part was now
beyond her. 'Ingrate!' she cried; 'I wrung it from her, I betrayed
my trust to get it, and 'tis she you thank!'
'Can you blame me?' said the Prince. 'I love her.'
'I see that,' she said. 'And I?'
'You, Madame von Rosen? You are my dearest, my kindest, and most
generous of friends,' he said, approaching her. 'You would be a
perfect friend, if you were not so lovely. You have a great sense
of humour, you cannot be unconscious of your charm, and you amuse
yourself at times by playing on my weakness; and at times I can take
pleasure in the comedy. But not to-day: to-day you will be the
true, the serious, the manly friend, and you will suffer me to
forget that you are lovely and that I am weak. Come, dear Countess,
let me to-day repose in you entirely.'
He held out his hand, smiling, and she took it frankly. 'I vow you
have bewitched me,' she said; and then with a laugh, 'I break my
staff!' she added; 'and I must pay you my best compliment. You made
a difficult speech. You are as adroit, dear Prince, as I am -
charming.' And as she said the word with a great curtsey, she
justified it.
'You hardly keep the bargain, madam, when you make yourself so
beautiful,' said the Prince, bowing.
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