unrestrained and was obviously caused by some mishap. The authoress retreated precipitately behind the supper-table. She looked as if she would like to creep into the sideboard. "Gracious heavens," she whispered, "all is lost!" Her husband stood sternly at the door and said: "Come now, come now!" but even this could no longer check their mirth. Magda had said to the Countess: "Hurry up, now, you silly country lout, and see that the lieutenant gets his coffee." Another voice corrected, "tea," Madga repeated "coffee," the other insisted and so did Magda. The public saw there was a misunderstanding between her and the prompter. Happily the lieutenant intervened, clicked his spurs and said: "I'll take both"—whereat the laughter became less confident. But the authoress was raging. "The public! It is and always will be a beast!" she snarled.
"My sister is a goose," said Diederich. "I shall tell her what I think of her afterwards."
Frau von Wulckow smiled deprecatingly. "The poor thing, she is doing her best. But the arrogance and impertinence of the crowd is really intolerable. Only a moment ago I had raised them to an enthusiasm for the ideal."
"Countess," said Diederich with conviction, "you are not only the one to have this bitter experience. It is the same everywhere in public life." He was thinking of the general exaltation at the time of his clash with the calumniator of His Majesty, and of the trials which he subsequently bore. "In the end the good cause triumphs," he said firmly.
"Isn't that so?" she agreed with a smile which seemed to pierce through the clouds. "The Good, the True, the Beautiful."
She held out her slender hand. "I believe, my friend, that we understand one another." Conscious of the occasion, Diederich boldly pressed it to his lips, and bowed. He placed his hand on his heart and declared from the depths of his soul: "You can trust me, Countess…"
