"Now that is a point on which _I_ do not presume to judge," said the baroness, with an effort to be ironical. "I leave that to you young people."

"Young people!" exclaimed Melitta, laughing. She let her work fall into her lap, and leaned back comfortably in her chair, looking at the baroness, who worked on industriously, and showing much humor blended with a goodly share of malice. "Young people? Do you know, dearest Anna Maria, that I shall be thirty this very year? My Julius will be twelve next month--only four years younger than your Helen. By the way, how is the child? Is she to remain forever in the boarding-school in Hamburg?

How long has she been there now? Two--no, it is already three years!

and not once has she been back here all that time! You will not know your own child any longer, dear baroness."

"The boarding-school is so very superior, everybody praises it so highly, that I should blame myself if I did not leave the child there as long as I can. But you seem to have forgotten, dearest Melitta, that we saw Helen last year at Ostend; and since you seem to have such a longing for the young lady, I will tell you in secret that you will be able to see her here at Grenwitz this summer."

"This very summer? Why see there! Has that any connection with Oldenburg's return? Pardon my indiscretion! But I recollect that some years ago, when the baron came back from his first great journey, you said a match with Oldenburg would perhaps not be objectionable to you."

"Then I did not know the baron as I have unfortunately learnt to know him since. Nor would that fall in with my husband's wishes, who, I believe, has promised Helen half and half to somebody else."

"To somebody else? Not to your worthy cousin Felix?"

"As I said before, I know nothing positive about it; Grenwitz is very reserved; but I almost guess so, from the fact that he has procured for Felix a year's leave of absence, and he is going to spend that year here. They say his health is very much impaired."

"I hope not as much so as his fortune," said Melitta, dryly.

"His fortune? What do you know of his circ.u.mstances?"

"I only repeat what the world says. You must agree, my dear, that if the _chronique scandaleuse_ has something to say about Oldenburg, it is far more eloquent about Felix, and the lieutenant surely has furnished topics enough."

"Felix is very young."

"Not younger than Oldenburg."

"Five years."

"One would not think so upon looking at him. But then he has lived rather fast."

"One could really imagine, my dear Melitta, that Felix was nearer to you than he really is. Candidly, I should like to know what you think of this match, if Grenwitz should not abandon the project."

"Well, then--I should consider it a misfortune, a very great misfortune, and in proportion as Helen is beautiful and innocent; what in all the world can suggest to the baron such a match? For I shall never believe that a mother could consent to such a union, which cannot fail to make her daughter inexpressibly unhappy."

Melitta had risen and cut the air with her riding-whip, as if she wished to say: That is what he deserves, who offers to aid in such a piece of rascality. Her tall, slender form looked a different being from her who had been timidly bending over her work or negligently reclining in her easy-chair. Even the features of her face seemed to change, and to become sharper, older; the fire in her large eyes blazed forth ominously. The mention of this match had evidently struck a chord in her soul which vibrated painfully through her whole system. She continued in the same excited tone:

"Felix is notoriously a fast young man. How can such a man feel love?

And even if Helen's beauty, her youth, and her innocence should for a time get the better of his exhaustion, that would not last long. A man like him, thoroughly _blase_, never becomes again a real man, and can Helen ever love such a person? And is life worth anything without love?

And can you prevent all the misery that must needs spring from such a match? I know----"

The young wife suddenly stopped and walked rapidly up and down the room. Then, after a short pause, she said:

"And what external advantages can such a match have? Felix has satisfied his excessive vanity at the expense of his fortune as well as of his health. His estates are mortgaged beyond their real value; and he has, as far as I know, no expectations."

"Except that in case Malte should die, which G.o.d prevent! he would inherit the Grenwitz fortune," said the baroness.

"Ah! indeed," replied Melitta, with a strange emphasis. This last remark of the baroness had presented the whole matter in a new light to the generous woman; it was a ray like the light from the dark lantern of the thief, which falls upon the strong-box he is about to steal. But she took good care not to let the baroness see what was going on in her heart, and continued in an unconcerned tone, throwing herself once more into the easy-chair:

"I hope Malte will not be so kind to the creditors of Felix as to die before his time. I see he is getting stronger visibly, and if you would only give the boy a little more liberty----"

"Liberty!" exclaimed the baroness. "Must I hear that word again? I give him as much liberty as a sensible mother ought to give her child. My opinion is that a man who, like Malte, will have a large fortune at his command, cannot learn too soon to obey, to economize, and to deny himself all that is superfluous and unnecessary. We have in our nephew Felix an example of the sad effects of too great indulgence."

"That is very true," said Melitta; "but----"

"We had, if I am not mistaken, agreed to avoid all discussion on the subject of education," said the baroness, with a smile of superiority.

"I know what I am doing, and I hope, with the help of G.o.d, to carry it out successfully."

"By the way, did I tell you that I mean to send my Julius, a few days hence, to the college at Grunwald?"

"What a venture again!" replied the baroness. "That is the kind of public education, as they call it, which Baron Oldenburg enjoyed when he was young, and you see what the results are. To be sure, private tutors have their dark sides also."

"You have a new one, I believe?" said Melitta, who had risen and was leaning against the door-frame. "How is he?"

The baroness shrugged her shoulders.

"But what a question, to be sure," said Melitta, laughing. "He is probably like all the rest: terribly learned, awkward, pedantic, a bore. Bemperlein, Bauer--they are all after the same pattern. I should know a tutor at a hundred yards. Ah! who is that young man, crossing the lawn there with Bruno?"

The question remained unanswered, for at that moment Mademoiselle Marguerite entered the room, and the baroness rose to give her some orders. Melitta turned round, but the baroness had left the room with the words, "Pray excuse me!" Melitta was alone, and had to find the answer to her question for herself. She drew a little back behind the door and examined the form of the unknown young man.

CHAPTER VII.

Oswald and Bruno had stepped forth from the trees which surrounded the lawn, just opposite to the chateau. His right arm was resting on the boy's shoulder, who again had put his arm round Oswald's waist, and looked smilingly up into the face of the young man. They were eagerly talking to each other, and stopped when they had advanced a few steps on the lawn. Oswald pointed in the direction from which they had come, and Bruno ran back into the wood. The young man stood waiting for his return, and whisked off, to pa.s.s his time, the heads of some gra.s.ses which had shot up too high. He had no suspicion that, at a little distance from him, a pair of beautiful sharp eyes were carefully examining every feature in his face and watching every motion.

"If that is the new tutor, he is one more proof of the old saying, that there is no rule without exception. He certainly does not look as if he belonged to the family of the Bemperleins. That elegant summer costume you must have bought in the city. Very neat, indeed, for a tutor. You seem to be rather vain, my dear sir, and to hold long interviews with your tailor. But you are well made, I must confess, and the little moustache is extremely becoming to you. I wish you would please raise your head a little more, so that I could see your eyes. That is right--ah! _sauve qui peut!_"

Oswald had raised his head and looked at the windows; Melitta stepped quickly back and hid behind the door. She cast a glance at the mirror that was hanging close by, and smoothed her hair in an instant. Then she approached the door once more stealthily.

Bruno came rushing forth from the shrubbery and showed Oswald a small volume. "Here it is," he cried, "but you shall not have it." Oswald tried to catch the provoking boy; but the latter only allowed him to approach quite close in order to escape again by a sudden turn, or by a leap such as Uncas himself would have boasted of frankly.

Melitta, attracted by the pretty scene, had stepped out of the room. As soon as Bruno perceived her he ran up to her, and Oswald, who had stopped in surprise at the unexpected sight, saw how the boy seized her hands and pressed them eagerly to his lips.

"There you are, little savage," said the lady, stroking the dark curls of the boy; "where have you been all the afternoon?"

"I have been out walking--with Oswald--I mean with Dr. Stein," said Bruno, and then turning to Oswald, who had come up in the mean while and bowed, "this is Frau von Berkow, of whom I spoke this morning; this is Mr. Stein, dear aunt, whom I love dearly, and whom you must like for my sake."

"We must not praise our own wares too much," said Oswald, bowing once more to the fair visitor, "or the purchaser will become suspicious."

"Not when the merchant enjoys such confidence as this wild little fellow," replied Melitta, blushing lightly. "How long have you been here at Grenwitz, doctor?"

"About a fortnight."

"I think the baroness told me you came from the capital?" asked Melitta, who was curious to know if her suspicions about Stein's costume were well founded.

"Not directly; I have been living in Grunwald lately."