ment. Strange that he did not anticipate that Maria Felicia would interest Joseph. But it was well that he did not, for he would then not have prepared him so well for her eccentricities. Some peculiar good luck ruled even in that, for just because he so much feared their meeting and frankly confessed it to the Emperor, he awakened in Joseph a greater interest in his daughter. Yes, everything favored the Count. He said to himself that little had he suspected that what a few hours ago he so bitterly reproached in his daughter might become the source of unequaled glory for her and her family.
“I do not know a more unjust father than you,” the Emperor said to him as they were parting. “You have wronged your daughter in every respect. It is impossible to think of anything more delightful than her childlike frankness, or more noble than her courageous ways. Only in one thing you were right, and that is, that her nature is more that of a young man than of a young lady, but even that is to her credit.”
