That was how the morning passed.

In the evening came the party. The young actress appeared and was introduced to Countess Judith.

But before this introduction took place, there was a turn of events which threatened to jeopardize, not the gathering itself, but certainly its prevailing mood.

The invitations had been for nine o’clock. The old count was awaiting the first guests, especially Judith’s, when Egon appeared in the grand festive hall with two friends, Counts Pejevic and Coronini. Like Egon they were adjutants to the archduke. Egon went up to his uncle, visibly perturbed. The latter greeted the gentlemen with his characteristic courtesy, but quickly realized from their demeanor that something must have happened.

“What is it, Egon?”

“Gablenz …” He stopped short.

“Out with it. I can guess.”

“Shot himself. We just received the telegram. I didn't want you to be surprised, with your guests around you.”

The two young counts confirmed this news.

This brief conversation took place in a small niche formed by laurels and palms.

The old count made no reply, only steadying himself on a marble table which stood next to some chairs and then gestured the gentlemen to be seated. After that he took a seat himself, twirling his white beard, staring ahead, silent. It was clear that he was absorbed in his own thoughts and had momentarily forgotten his visitors.

“You were fond of him.” It was Egon, beginning to feel embarrassed by this situation, who finally spoke.