self, belonged to her. I gave it to her. I received it from her, from
her my good angel.

I had been at home but a few days, when I received a letter one
morning. It was written in English, and came from the Countess Marie:


_Dear Friend_: I hear you are with us for a short time. We have not
met for many years, and if it is agreeable to you, I should like to see
an old friend again. You will find me alone this afternoon in the
Swiss Cottage. Yours sincerely, MARIE.


I immediately replied, also in English, that I would call in the
afternoon.

The Swiss Cottage constituted a wing of the castle, which overlooked
the garden, and could be reached without going through the castle yard.
It was five o'clock when I passed through the garden and approached the
cottage. I repressed all emotion and prepared myself for a formal
meeting. I sought to quiet my good angel, and to assure her that this
lady had nothing to do with her. And yet I felt very uneasy, and my
good angel would not listen to counsel. Finally I took courage,
murmuring something to myself about the masquerade of life, and rapped
on the door, which stood ajar.

There was no one in the room except a lad whom I did not know, and who
likewise spoke English, and said the Countess would be present in a
moment. She then left, and I was alone, and had time to look about.