'But one thing more,' she answered, as her arms went round him. 'But one thing more--that you will be Greif, my Greif, the Greif I love, always and always, whether in my name or yours, until the end!'

As his own thoughts had dwindled before Frau von Sigmundskron's earnest dignity, so that in turn grew dim and far away in the presence of Hilda's love. All had been right in their own way, but Hilda's speech was the best, and there was the most humanity in it, after all.

A long time they sat side by side in the sunlight, talking of each other and of themselves as lovers will, and must, if they would talk at all.

As they were about to go down, Hilda stopped, just at the entrance of the turret, and swung the broken door gently on its creaking hinges.

'You must not let your cousin hate me, Greif,' she said, as though the thought troubled the cloudless joy of the future. 'It would not be right. We must all be one, now and when we two are married. He saved your life by his care--why should he dislike me?'

'He does not, dearest--you are mistaken,' protested Greif, who was much embarra.s.sed by the question. Hilda faced him at once, laying her hand upon his arm.

'He does, and you must see it. Why does he never come here? Why is he so cold when we go to Greifenstein? I do not care a straw for his like or dislike, except because he is your cousin, and because I think we should all live harmoniously together. The strange thing is that he would give his life for you, and I am sure he is honest, though I cannot see into his eyes as I can into yours. What is the reason? You must know.'

'I do not. I can see that he is very reserved with you and does not like to come here. I asked him only yesterday why he always stayed behind.'

'And what did he say?' asked Hilda eagerly.

'Nothing to the point. He said he could not be of any use if he did come--which, after all, is absolutely true.'

'You must find out. He dislikes me now, when we are married it will be worse, a year hence he will detest me altogether and tell you so, perhaps.'

'Do you think he would tell me?' asked Greif with a quiet smile, that did not agree with the sudden glittering of his eyes.

'No,' laughed Hilda. 'That is an exaggeration. But he will make us both feel it.'

'In that case we will not ask him to stay with us,' answered Greif, half carelessly, half in anger at Rex's imaginary future rudeness.

He saw that Hilda was annoyed by his cousin's conduct, for it was the second time she had spoken of it during the visit, and he determined that he would put the matter very plainly to Rex as soon as he reached Greifenstein, the more so as he himself had noticed it and had already asked Rex for an explanation.

Hilda's face grew grave. She knew how devoted Rex was to Greif, and she felt as though her future husband were to lose his best friend for a meaningless whim of the latter, in which she was involved against her will.

'That must never be,' she answered. 'Next to me, no one loves you as Rex does. I would not have you quarrel for all the world--and it is mere jealousy, Greif, I know--'

'Then he must be a very contemptible character,' said Greif indignantly.

'Because he is so much attached to you that it pains him to see his place taken by another, even by woman? No, sweetheart. That is not contemptible. But you must change it. Tell him to be reasonable--'

'Could I say that you are offended with him?' asked Greif. 'Can I go to Rex and tell him that he must not only be civil but must be a friend to you?'

'You are jesting,' she answered. 'But it is just what I would do in earnest--what I will do, if you will let me. He would understand that.

I would say to him, Herr Rex, you are Greif's only relation besides ourselves. It is absolutely necessary for his happiness that we should be on good terms, you and I. Is it my fault? He would answer that it was not, for he is honest. Then it is yours, I would say, and the sooner you turn yourself into a friend of mine, the better it will be for Greif, who is the only person you care for in the world. Is not that common sense?'

'Do you mean to say that?' asked Greif rather anxiously.

'If you will let me, I will,' answered Hilda, returning to her occupation and swinging the old door slowly between her two hands.

'If I will let you!' repeated Greif. 'Do you think I would try to prevent you from saying what you please, darling--'

'You ought to, if you think it would be a mistake--at least, after we are married.'

'I am not sure that I could,' he answered with a laugh.

'No one else could,' said Hilda, looking up at him with flashing eyes.

'If I meant to do a thing, I would do it, of course. Did I not say that I would not let you go?'

'Indeed you did. And you kept your word.'

'And I love you--you know it?'

'It is all I know, or care to know.'

'Well, I will tell you something more. Because I love you, I want to do what you like, and not what I like, and I always will, so long as you love me.'

Greif drew her to him and held her close, and whispered a tender word into her ear.

'But you must understand,' she said. 'It is not because you are to be my husband, that I mean to submit to you. I do not submit at all, and never shall. I am just as strong as you are, and you could not make me yield a hair's-breadth. But I will always do everything you wish me to do, because I love you, and because you love me, not for any other reason.

Do you understand?'

'I would not have it otherwise, my darling--and I will do the same--'

'You cannot quite--you cannot feel as I do, Greif. Perhaps, some day--when you and I are old, Greif--then you will love me as I love you now, but then, you see, I shall have learnt how to love you more, and you will still be hindmost in love's race--for women are made to love and men to fight, in this world, and though I could fight not badly, if need were, for you, yet I know better how to do the sweeter thing, than you can ever know. Do you not believe me?'

'Since you would have me--'

'You do not--but you will, some day,' she answered, shaking her beautiful head a little, and tapping the door with her fingers. 'And now, dear,' she added, laying her hand in his and beginning to walk up and down the old battlement, 'and now, shall I tell Rex, or will you?'

'I will tell him,' said Greif firmly.

'Then promise me not to be angry, Greif. I could do it so well--but it is better so. Promise me that you will say it in such a way as shall make you feel afterwards that you have done the best--even long afterwards; in such a way as to show him how you value his friendship.

He saved your life, by his care--'

'And you called me back from death with your eyes--'

'Do not think of my eyes, when you are talking to him,' interrupted Hilda gravely. 'Think of all he has done for you, and of what such a n.o.ble friendship deserves in return. Think that he is a lonely man, and not so young as you, and that he needs a little affection very much.

Think that all I want is that we may be able to live happily together, you and I, and he, when he cares to be with us. But do not think of me--or if you do, think that if you and Rex were parted I should not forgive myself. Do I not owe him your life, as you do? If you had died, because he was not there to tend you--I cannot speak of it--but you owe him much, for it is your life, and I more, for I owe him our two lives together. Will you tell him that?'

'I will try--he will not understand it all.'

'Then, if he has not understood, if you cannot make him see it, then it will be my turn. But you can, Greif dear, I know you can. And it is not a small matter either, though it may seem so now. It is not a small matter to part with such a man as that, nor is it an insignificant evil, that I should have his dislike at the very beginning, before we are married. You must do your best, you must do all you can, and you will succeed--and by and by we will work together. Greif--' she stopped suddenly and looked at him.

'What is it, dear?' he asked.

'Greif, do you think I have any other reason for wanting Rex to like me?

Do you think I am a vain woman?'

Greif stared at her a moment and then laughed aloud.

'Why do you laugh?' she asked, quietly. 'Perhaps I am right. I have read of girls who were so vain that they wanted every man they saw to like them--and I have never seen any man--young, I mean, but you, until I saw Rex--and so I thought--perhaps--'