could arrive at what he wished with so quiet, so little vain, but so
exceedingly laconic a person. They walked up and down together on one
side of the saloon, while Edward, excited with wine and hope, was
laughing with Ottilie at a window, and Charlotte and the Baroness were
walking backward and forward, without speaking, on the other side. Their
being so silent, and their standing about in this uneasy, listless way,
had its effect at last in breaking up the rest of the party. The ladies
withdrew to their rooms, the gentlemen to the other wing of the castle;
and so this day appeared to be concluded.




CHAPTER XI


Edward went with the Count to his room. They continued talking, and he
was easily prevailed upon to stay a little time longer there. The Count
lost himself in old times, spoke eagerly of Charlotte's beauty, which,
as a critic, he dwelt upon with much warmth.

"A pretty foot is a great gift of nature," he said. "It is a grace which
never perishes. I observed it today, as she was walking. I should almost
have liked even to kiss her shoe, and repeat that somewhat barbarous but
significant practice of the Sarmatians, who know no better way of
showing reverence for any one they love or respect, than by using his
shoe to drink his health out of."

The point of the foot did not remain the only subject of praise between
two old acquaintances; they went from the person back upon old stories