“Perhaps so,” he said, smiling.  “The most clever and experienced woman may be deluded by love, and suffer her reason to be clouded by sweet, alluring visions.”

“You mean that I have done so?”

“Yes, that is what I mean; but it gives me no further anxiety, for I have confidence that your reason will soon conquer your heart.  So I do not grudge you the rare satisfaction of enjoying the bliss of being loved.  Only I warn you not to take the matter seriously and strive to make the dream a reality.”

“And if that should happen, what would you do?”

“I would be inexorable,” he answered sternly.  “I would tell who and what you are.”

She lay motionless; her face still retained its calm, indifferent expression, only for a moment an angry flash darted from her eyes at the old gentleman, but she lowered her lids over them, as if they must not betray the secrets of her soul.

A pause followed, interrupted only by the slow, regular ticking of the great Rococo clock which stood on the marble mantelpiece.

“You will not find it necessary to make such disclosures,” Leonore said at last, slowly and wearily, “for you are perfectly right, I shall never grant love the mastery over my future.  I know who I am, and that says everything.  It will never be requisite to communicate it to others.”

“I am sure of it,” he said kindly.  “And now, my dear Leonore, let us say nothing about our private affairs and pass on to business.”

“Yes, let us do so,” she answered quietly.  “I am waiting for your questions.”

“Then first:  what did Count Andreossy want, when he begged for an interview so urgently yesterday evening?”

“You were listening?” she asked calmly.

“I heard it.  I would gladly have listened to your conversation, but you were malicious enough to grant him the interview in the little corner drawing-room, which has but a single entrance.  So it was impossible to enter it unnoticed.  Well, what did the count want?”

“He wanted to tell me that he loved me unutterably.  He wanted to implore the favor of accepting from him the coupe with the two dapple-grays, in which he drove me yesterday, and which I had praised.”

“I hope that you granted the favor.”

“I did.  The equipage will be sent to-day.”

“The dapple-grays are remarkably beautiful,” said the old gentleman, rubbing his hands contentedly.  “They are worth at least a thousand florins, and the coupe is a model of elegance and beauty.  The count received it from Paris a fortnight ago.  But how did you repay Andreossy for his regal gift?”

“I told him that I detested him, and that he need never hope for my love.”

“Yet you accepted his gift?” he asked, smiling.

“Yes.  I accepted it because he entreated it as the first and greatest favor, and because, after the deep sorrow I had caused him, I could not help granting so small a boon.”