"Come and see them for yourself!"
She drew him from his chair to the window in the dining-room, where his
own eyes convinced him of the truth of Marie's announcement.
Already the two vehicles were crossing the causeway, and the baroness's
rose-colored parasol gleamed among the trees. Deeply agitated, Count
Vavel hastened to meet her.
"May I come with you?" shyly begged Marie, following him.
"I beg that you will come," was the reply; and the two, guardian and
ward, hand in hand, descended to the entrance-hall.
Baroness Katharina's countenance beamed with a magical charm--the result
of the union of opposite emotions; as when shame and courage, timidity
and daring, love and heroism, meet and are blended together in a
wonderful harmony--a miracle seen only in the magic mirror of a woman's
face.
While yet several paces distant, she held out her hand toward Count
Vavel, and, with a charming mixture of embarrassment and candor, said:
"Yes, I am."
This was her confirmation of the words Vavel had spoken in the forest in
the presence of the three dragoon officers: "She is my betrothed."
Vavel lifted the white hand to his lips.
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