She shut the door very carefully, so that the performance should not be disturbed, but a little cloud of dust arose, as if it was powder from the hair of the painted shepherdess.
"This house is so romantic," whispered Frau von Wulckow. "Don't you think so, Dr. Hessling? When one looks at oneself in the mirror here, one fancies one is wearing a hoop-petticoat." At this Diederich, more and more bewildered, looked at her evening gown. Her bare shoulders were hollow and rather stooped, her hair was extremely fair and she carried a pince-nez.
"You fit these surroundings perfectly, Madame … Countess," he corrected, and he was rewarded with a smile for this bold flattery. Not every one would have reminded Frau von Wulckow so aptly that she was born Countess Züsewitz!
"As a matter of fact," she said, "it is hard to believe that in its time this home was not built for distinguished society, instead of for the good burghers of Netzig." She smiled reflectively. "But to-day, Countess, you can doubtless feel quite at home here." "I am sure you have a feeling for the beautiful," Frau von Wulckow hazarded, and as Diederich admitted it, she declared he must not miss the first act altogether, but must look through the cleft in the door. For some time she had been showing obvious signs of impatience, and with her fan she pointed in the direction of the stage. "Major Kunze will go off in a moment. He is not very good, but it can't be helped, he is on the Club committee, and was the first to point out to these people the artistic significance of my work." While Diederich had no trouble in recognising the major, who had not changed his appearance in the least, the authoress with lightning fluency gave him a synopsis of what had gone before. The young peasant girl, with whom Kunze was speaking, was his natural daughter, that is, the daughter of a Count, and for that reason the play was called "The Secret Countess." As gruff as ever, he was just explain-
