She turned, and all the love that she had struggled to conquer was in her eyes as they met his. "We shall meet once more," replied she.

"When?" cried Joseph, frantic with grief.

"When the hour has come for us to meet again, I will send for you.

Promise to be there to receive my last farewell."

"I swear to be there."

"Then, farewell."

"Farewell, beloved Anna! Oh, let me touch your hand once more!"

"No!" said she, harshly; and, opening the door, she disappeared, and the emperor was left alone.

CHAPTER LXXIX.

THE MAD COUNTESS.

Count Starhemberg paced his splendid drawing-room in a state of great excitement. Sometimes he murmured broken sentences, then he sighed heavily, and again he seemed to be a prey to fear. Occasionally, his eyes glanced almost reproachfully toward the figure of a young man, who, with folded arms and smiling countenance, stood in the embrasure of a window watching the old man's agitation.

As the clock on the marble mantel struck the hour, the count stopped before his young visitor, and looked searchingly at his mild and effeminate farce.

"The half hour has elapsed, Count Esterhazy," said he, solemnly. "I have told you frankly that my niece, although a beautiful and perchance a good-hearted woman, has a temper which is the terror of my household.

She inherits this misfortune from her deceased father, and, unhappily, her lovely and amiable mother did not long survive him. There has been no one, therefore, to control her; and her terrible temper has never been restrained. Do not say to me that I might have conquered it! I have dedicated my whole life to her; and lest she should make another being unhappy, I have remained a bachelor, as you perceive. But I had made a solemn promise to her parents that I would be a father to her, and I have kept my promise. It is not my fault if their child is less amiable than other women. She has an energetic character, and I fear that if she marries, she will find means to tyrannize over her husband. I repeat this to you count, that we may clearly understand each other; and now that the half hour has gone by, do you still urge your suit?"

"Yes, count, I do," replied Esterhazy in a, soft, treble voice. "I repeat to you the offer of my hand to the Countess Margaret Starhemberg."

The count bowed. "I have done my duty, and, being cleared of all responsibility in the affair, I give my consent. You must now try to win hers."

"I would like to see the countess in your presence," said Esterhazy, unmoved.

Count Starhemberg rang the bell, and ordered a servant to bear a request to his niece to join him in the drawing-room.

"The countess would have the honor of joining her uncle immediately,"

was the answer.

"This promises well," said the old count, looking relieved. "She generally practises her music at this hour; and I am surprised that--"

Just then the sharp tones of an angry female voice were heard without, then the jingling of glasses, then a crash, and the fall of some heavy metallic body.

"That is my niece," said the old man with a shiver. "With that fanfare she usually announces her coming."

Now the door was flung violently open, and a tall, magnificent woman dashed into the room. Her features, marvellously chiselled as those of the antique Venus, would have been irresistible in beauty, if their expression had corresponded to their symmetry--But in her large black eyes glared the fire of ungoverned passion, and her rosy mouth was curled with contempt.

Her tall figure was of exquisite proportions; and her arms, adorned but not hidden by the lace which fell from the short sleeves of her crimson velvet dress, were as fair and beautiful as those of the Venus of Milo.

Count Esterhazy, intoxicated by the sight of her wondrous beauty, withdrew abashed behind the window-curtain, while the countess, graceful as an angry leopardess, bounded through the room, and stood before her uncle.

"Who has annoyed you, my child?" asked he timidly.

"He is an idiot, an awkward animal, and shall be driven from the house with the lash!" cried she. "Just imagine, uncle, that as I was coming hither, I met him in the anteroom with a plateau of cups and glasses.

When he saw me, the fool fell to trembling as if he had seen an evil spirit--the plateau shook; and my dear mother's last gift, the goblet from which she had cooled her dying lips, fell to the floor and was broken."

Her voice, at first so loud and angry, was now soft and pathetic, and her eyes glistened with tears. She shook them off impatiently.

"I can well understand, dear child, how much it must have grieved you to lose this precious relic," said her uncle, soothingly.

She blushed as though she had been surprised in a fault.

"Oh, it was not that," said she, pettishly, "it is all the same to me whether the goblet was a relic or not, for I hate sentiment. But I detest such an awkward fool. He never COULD carry any thing without letting it fall."

"Nay, my child, he has often carried you for hours in his arms, and yet he never let you fall."

"Uncle, your jests are insupportable," cried she, stamping with her little satin-slippered foot upon the carpet. "You excuse this gray-headed dunce merely to vex me, and to remind me that I am an orphan without a home."

"But my dear--"

"Peace! I will not be interrupted. If I am tyrannized over in every other way, I will at least claim the right to speak--I wish to say that this old plague shall not remain here another day to torment my life with his nonsense. This time, however, I made him feel the weight of my hand. His face was as red as my dress after it."

"You struck my faithful old Isidor?" cried the count, shocked.

"Yes, I did," replied she, looking defiantly into her uncle's mild face.

"I beat him well, and then I threw the whole waiter of cups and glasses upon the floor. Have you any fault to find with that, my sympathizing uncle?"

"None, none," said the old man. "If it gave you pleasure to break the glasses, we will go out and buy others."

"WE! No, indeed, we shall not. Isidor shall pay for them from his wages.

It was his fault that I was obliged to break them, and no one shall suffer for it except himself. I claim that as an act of bare justice to myself. "

"But, my dear countess--"

She stamped her foot again. "Great God! have you no object in life except that of contradicting and ill-treating me?"

The count sighed and approached the door. She heard him, and an exulting smile lit up her beautiful, stormy face.

"Well, as you will not tell him, I shall do it myself. Yes--I shall do it myself. Do you hear, uncle? You shall not say a word to him."

"I will say nothing, Margaret. Will you now allow me to speak of other things? Is your vehemence--"

"UNCLE!"

"In your just displeasure, you have overlooked the fact that we are not alone."

He pointed to the window where, half hidden by the heavy silk drapery, stood Count Frank Esterhazy. The countess followed her uncle's glance, and as she became aware of the visitor's presence, burst into a merry laugh.

"Do not be frightened, young man," said she then; "you may come out from your corner. I am not a cat, and I don't devour mice. Ah, you have heard our discussion? What a pity you are not a dramatic poet, you have had such an opportunity for depicting a foolish old guardian and his spirited ward!"