intimate friend, knew it. Baron Spaun also divined the cause of his
melancholy. Some years after the composer's death, Countess Therese
Brunswick conceived a great liking for a young girl, Miriam Tenger,
whom she had taken under her care for a short period, until a suitable
school was selected for her in Vienna. When the time for parting came,
Miriam burst into tears and clung to the Countess's hand.

"Child! Child!" exclaimed the lady, "do you really love me so deeply?"

"I love you, I love you so," sobbed the child, "that I could die for
you."

The Countess placed her hand on the girl's head. "My child," she said,
"when you have grown older and wiser, you will understand what I mean
when I say that to _live_ for those we love shows a far greater love,
because it requires so much more courage. But while you are in Vienna,
there is one favor you can do me, which my heart will consider a great
one. On the twenty-seventh of every March go to the Wahringer Cemetery
and lay a wreath of immortelles on Beethoven's grave."

When, true to her promise, the girl went with her school principal to
the cemetery, they found a man bending over the grave and placing
flowers upon it. He looked up as they approached.

"The child comes at the request of the Countess Therese Brunswick,"
explained the principal.

"The Countess Therese Brunswick! Immortelles upon this grave are fit
from her alone." The speaker was Beethoven's faithful friend, Baron
Spaun.