The hostess looked at him just at this moment, and saw the
blood mount into his cheeks.
"What is the matter?" she could not help whispering.
He blushed a second time, even more deeply.
But Frau von Jagerfeld had followed his eye, and now said, smiling:
"Ah, your opposite neighbor!"
"Who is the lady?" Bergmann asked, with some little embarrassment.
"Doctor," replied Frau von Jagerfeld, this time smiling, "take care.
Many wings have already been scorched by her."
"Don't fear, madame. I can endure flames somewhat better than a moth."
"Come, come, a suspicious reflection of fire is already visible on your
cheeks."
A shadow of annoyance flitted across Bergmann's face. His hostess laid
her hand quickly on his arm, saying:
"Don't be vexed by a little jest, my dear friend. I will tell you who
the beautiful woman is. She is a German-American, and her name is Mrs.
Ada Burgess. Young and charming, as you see, the poor woman is
unhappy. Her father is the owner of a gold mine somewhere in Nebraska,
and was reputed a very wealthy man; at least he lived in extremely
handsome style in St.
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