'It seems to me,' observed Frau von Greifenstein with a fine
affectation of irony, 'that I might be consulted too.'

The Lady of Sigmundskron looked up quickly, but Greifenstein seemed to
grow calmer than ever.

'Pardon me, my dear wife,' he answered, with a rather formal
inclination of the head. 'If you will be as kind as to remember our
conversation of last night, you will call to mind that I asked your
consent to the arrangement, and that you gave it at once.'

'Ah yes!' said Frau von Greifenstein. 'It is true. I daresay we did
speak of it. Ah, you see, the multiplicity of my household cares drives
these things from my head!'

Thereupon her face grew vague and expressionless and she looked again
at the birds and the butterflies.

'Moreover,' said Greifenstein, now addressing his wife directly, 'I am
sure you will recollect that we proposed to ask our cousin to stay with
us until the young people return from their wedding trip.'

'Yes--yes. I believe we did,' replied Clara very vaguely and nodding
her head slowly at each word. 'Indeed we did!' she exclaimed turning
quickly with one of her unexpected smiles. 'Of course! Dear, dear! What
could you do, all by yourself up there among those towers? Such a
solitary life, and your only daughter, too! How I pity you!'

'You are very kind. But I am not much to be pitied. Many mothers lose
their children altogether when they have married them. Hilda will