"We must try," Charlotte said, "to make up for what we then allowed to
slip from us."

"Aye, and you must keep to that," said the Count; "your first
marriages," he continued, with some vehemence, "were exactly marriages
of the true detestable sort. And, unhappily, marriages generally, even
the best, have (forgive me for using a strong expression) something
awkward about them. They destroy the delicacy of the relation;
everything is made to rest on the broad certainty out of which one side
or other, at least, is too apt to make their own advantage. It is all a
matter of course; and they seem only to have got themselves tied
together, that one or the other, or both, may go their own way the more
easily."

At this moment, Charlotte, who was determined once for all that she
would put an end to the conversation, made a bold effort at turning it,
and succeeded. It then became more general. She and her husband and the
Captain were able to take a part in it. Even Ottilie had to give her
opinion; and the dessert was enjoyed in the happiest humor. It was
particularly beautiful, being composed almost entirely of the rich
summer fruits in elegant baskets, with epergnes of lovely flowers
arranged in exquisite taste.

The new laying-out of the park came to be spoken of; and immediately
after dinner they went to look at what was going on. Ottilie withdrew,
under pretence of having household matters to look to; in reality, it
was to set to work again at the transcribing. The Count fell into
conversation with the Captain, and Charlotte afterward joined them. When
they were at the summit of the height, the Captain good-naturedly ran