"Why so strange? Am I not a very old friend, to whom you have many a time talked on most important topics, and whom you have many a time honoured with your most intimate confidence?"

"Then it is all the better, all the more deserving of my grat.i.tude; and I thank you heartily, sincerely ..."

She had seized both his hands; her beautiful countenance, now lighted up with a flush of gladness, had never been more beautiful; yet to Bertram it appeared like some hideous mask.

"I cannot accept your thanks," he said, withdrawing his hands with slight and very hurried pressure. "I could but do so honestly, if I shared those wishes of yours which I have guessed. That is not quite the case. The impression which Baron Lotter made upon me yesterday was not specially favourable; to be quite open, the impression was unfavourable."

"That," Hildegard replied eagerly, "leaves me very calm. You men seldom like each other at a first encounter, and at a second you find one another charming. In the Baron's case no second encounter has even been necessary; he overflows with your praises; he calls you the cleverest and most amiable of men; he is charmed to have made your acquaintance; and I am convinced that you, too, my friend, will soon modify your judgment--I should almost like to say your prejudice--once you come to know the Baron better. He is somewhat spoiled, like all very handsome men; somewhat conceited, if you like; but at bottom very modest, easily led, good as gold. He will please you, believe me, and more than please you! You will come to esteem and love him!"

"Is the more important question, to me the most important, already settled? Does Erna think as favourably of the Baron? Does she love him?

For that he loves her, I must, I suppose, a.s.sume."

"That is beyond all doubt," Hildegard made answer; "as for Erna, I hope so, I believe so; anyhow she does not express herself unfavourably about him, and that, with Erna, means a good deal, for she is not at all easily pleased, and is not accustomed to conceal her dislike, if dislike there be. It is of course difficult to form a correct opinion of Erna's sentiments; doubly difficult for me, because she has been so long from home, and we are not always in accord in our views and tendencies. Again, in Lydia she has never placed full confidence--which, by the by, I can scarcely wonder at. I only know one being whom she thoroughly trusts--and you dear friend, are the one!"

"I?"

"Are you surprised to hear this? Surely not? Has not the child always been so fond of Uncle Bertram, that we, her parents, might have grown jealous? Has she not ever been your favourite? If she is so no longer, for goodness sake do not let the poor girl see it. She would be inconsolable."

"Now, you are laughing at me."

"Indeed, I am not. Ask Lydia. That Lydia often speaks of you, you will find natural enough, and that now and again a word of bitterness slips in, you will find pardonable. Erna does not pardon it. In her eyes you are once and for good raised above all reproach. You are, as it were, her ideal. It is a downright case of infatuation, and it goes so far that she once a.s.sured us, with all a child's gravity--she was still almost a child--that if ever she married, Uncle Bertram must be her husband and she got quite angry when Lydia and I laughed at her."

The beautiful lady smiled, and Bertram succeeded in forcing a smile too.

"How very funny," he said; "but then very young girls are proverbially p.r.o.ne to conceive infatuation for some one or other of their masters, and I think, in Lydia's eyes, I have always been one of her instructors, in literature and what not. Poor girls! they give their affections to old Mentor, but they mean young Telemachus. Well, and there is apparently a young Telemachus on the stage already, if you have seen aright."

"Just to decide that point," replied Hildegard, "Mentor must not yet resign his functions. On the contrary, I must entreat him most urgently to help the mother with his clear vision and his advice, and to use his old influence with the daughter. I may rely upon this, my trusty friend, may I not?"

She held out her hand to him with these words. He raised it deferentially to his lips and said--

"You may rest convinced that Erna's well-being is dearer to me than anything else in the world."

Hildegard had wished and had expected another, a more definite, answer.

It was still doubtful whether she had really acquired an ally in him.

However, the main point was gained; she had taken the initiative, had represented the affair from her own point of view, had appealed to Bertram's friendship, had asked for his a.s.sistance, had given him a proof of her confidence, which he would doubtless accept as unconditional. This sort of thing is always flattering to a man, always makes him feel indebted. Of course, a woman must flatter a man if she would make him feel indebted.

Just then it was anyhow impossible to obtain a more definite a.s.surance from Bertram, for the Baron and Lydia were ascending the main steps of the terrace; the Baron, in his temporary capacity as artist, clad in a costume of brown velvet, and a straw hat with a stupendously broad brim, and Lydia in such a grotesquely fantastic morning costume as to suggest the idea that she had been acting as model for some wonderful sketch of the artist. And indeed she did figure upon the canvas, but only as a bit of the foreground, which represented a portion of the terrace, across which you looked down into the valley and at the village, with the wooded hills rising behind. The Baron was evidently much pleased with his work, although he declared again and again not to have half finished it; it was not fair, he added, to apply to a hasty sketch the same standard of judgment as to a regular studio picture, in which everything would of course turn out quite different. This, Bertram could not but think, would be most desirable, but hardly very probable. This so-called sketch was evidently a picture which had already been touched and retouched, some portions had been painted over two, even three times, and divers desultory dilettante endeavours had failed to bring anything like harmony into the composition.

Nevertheless he politely agreed with the ladies' words of praise, which flowed freely from Hildegard's lips, while Lydia, as was her wont, launched out in extravagant eulogy: wonderful, was it not, what progress the Herr Baron made day by day? At last there was once more a painter with a mission for historical landscapes on a grand scale! The resemblance of his genius to that of a Rottmann, a Preller--became more and more apparent. Nor did she alone think so. Only the other day, at Court, when they were talking of the pupils at the Academy of Arts, and some one mentioned the Baron's name, Princess Amelia said, and said with marked emphasis, "No pupil he, ladies, nay, a master, and a great master! The Baron is a distinct acquisition for our School of Arts; he represents a triumph!"

"Yes, it is true; the august lady is very graciously disposed towards me," a.s.serted the Baron, stroking his natty beard. "I wonder what she will say to my new sketches."

Fortunately for Bertram, who was planning his escape under some pretext or other from this painful scene, his host now came up to greet his friend, and to ask if he felt strong enough and was inclined to go for a little drive with him; only to the porcelain factory, they would be back in an hour. Bertram declared his readiness.

"The Baron would surely like to go with you," said Hildegard, exchanging glances with her husband; "but I fear there is barely comfortable room even for two in your little trap."

The Baron hastened to a.s.sure her that he could not go, anyhow, as he had promised Miss Erna to try the accompaniment to some new songs with her.

Hildegard asked Bertram if he would not, before starting, say good morning to Erna, who would be hurt if he left without having done so.

They called for Erna in vain. It seemed to Bertram that Hildegard only wished to find time enough to beckon him aside, and to whisper to him that he need not conceal from her husband what they had been discussing in reference to Erna. On the contrary, she was anxious to learn Otto's opinion of the whole matter; he would probably speak with less reserve to his friend than, alas! to her, and that Bertram would take her side she felt sure now.

"But Erna is not coming, I see," she exclaimed aloud; "I will not keep you gentlemen any longer. _Au revoir_--an hour hence."

VII.

The little trap was so light, and the road was in such good condition, that the friends were able to drive at a very fair pace, in spite of the not inconsiderable gradient. Soon they pa.s.sed into the wood.

The easy, comfortable motion, the perfect beauty of the morning, the fact that the friends were for the first time in undisturbed companionship--all seemed to favour a confidential exchange of thoughts. Yet both men were silent, and barely exchanged a word or two on indifferent topics. At last Otto said, after he had taken a stolen side-glance or two of his friend--

"What do you think, Charles--shall we walk a bit? The road now will be virtually level for some distance."

Bertram nodded a.s.sent. The carriage stopped. Otto bade the man drive slowly on in front of them, in the direction of the factory.

"You never can be sure," he began, as they were striding along the well-kept footpath by the side of the road, "that these beggars do not hear more than they should; and I particularly want to ask you something. Tell me--but quite honestly, mind--how do you like the Baron?"

"Let us come to the point at once," replied Bertram; "I have had a talk with your wife."

"Oh! indeed!" exclaimed Otto, hiding his embarra.s.sment as best he could by bursting out laughing, and abruptly leaving off again. "That is to say, I rather thought you would. I should like to have done the same--I mean had a talk with you--yesterday, in fact; but my wife told me not to ... and, don't you know, the ladies always claim precedence."

"Very well; then let me commence at the point where my conversation with your wife came to an end--with the question which she either could not or would not answer when I pressed her, and which seems to me of paramount importance--Does Erna love the Baron? Have you, between you, or have you yourself, any proof of--any support of this? Have you made any observation from which you could conclude such a thing?"

"Look here, old man," said Otto, "you are asking a lot at once. I can't follow you. Proof--support--observation! Good Heaven! Who can look into a girl's head and heart? She has said nothing to me, and rather than ask her--ask her--it's such a queer question to ask, and possibly one might only do harm by it, and learn nothing in the long run, or at least not the truth. Of course she is fond enough of me, and has confidence in me. Heaven knows how fond I am of her! but father and daughter, you know--or rather you do not know, for you never had a daughter--that's a curious business!"

He had taken off his hat and was scratching his head in his perplexity.

Bertram understood that he was not likely to get anything out of him that way. After a pause Bertram said--

"Well, let us a.s.sume--although, to say the truth, I find it very hard to do so--let us a.s.sume that Erna does love this man. Would you then be able to say Yea and Amen with a good conscience? In other words, are you convinced that the man would make Erna happy? That he has, anyhow, the qualities which according to human reasoning and experience, render her happiness at least possible? That he is a man of honour, of fit and upright disposition;--in a word, that he is a gentleman?"

"A gentleman!" exclaimed Otto in amazement "Why, good Heaven!--a man belonging to such a family--bearing such a name--a constant guest at Court--invited to every ball, every evening party there; besides joining their private circle, once or twice every week--why, he must be a gentleman!"

"The deuce he must!" exclaimed Bertram angrily. "If you have no better guarantee than Court b.a.l.l.s and such like humbug!"

"But what more would you have?" said Otto. "What more would any one have? If that is no guarantee I wonder what you would call one. I have it as a matter of certainty from Lydia, that his nomination as Chamberlain is made out, is lying ready for signature in the Grand Duke's cabinet; and Lydia ought to know, for, between you and me, she, with the help of our Court Marshal, an old friend of Lotter's father, has been urging the matter strongly at Court. Lotter is very grateful to her, and says quite frankly, that but for her he might have had to wait much longer; and I think that is, a trait in his favour--although I am convinced--but you must please not give any indication that you know--although I am convinced that Lydia has not tried her hardest for Lotter's own sake, but to conciliate my wife, who is bent upon seeing her future son-in-law hold some Court appointment. And the reason why Lydia had to keep in my wife's good graces is not far to seek; and, old fellow, she has had her way at last, and is allowed to sojourn once more under the same roof with you. You see: _ma.n.u.s manum lavat._"

"So I see, indeed," laughed Bertram. "And now Hildegard must again keep me in good-humour, that I, in my turn, may keep you in good-humour. It were strange indeed, if, under these circ.u.mstances, we were not, all of us, in the very best humour!"

"This hardly seems to be your case as yet," said Otto, "your laughter notwithstanding."

"Nor, I hope, yours either," exclaimed Bertram.

"Why do you hope so?"

Bertram made no answer. His Heart was full of sorrow and wrath. He saw that the whole affair was arranged--among the two women anyhow--and the easy-going henpecked husband by his side would be sure to say yes to everything, had probably done so already, and this was but the second scene this morning in a nicely-arranged comedy, with all the parts carefully distributed beforehand. Evidently the drive had but one object--to give Otto an opportunity of saying his part. And he, himself?--Why, barely an hour ago he had solemnly protested to the fair stage-manager that never more would he act again! And she had listened to his solemn protest without laughing in his face! Well, well; there might yet be a chance of interpreting some pa.s.sage in a way that the clever lady had not thought of!

Otto broke the silence, after they had been walking side by side for some little time, by saying somewhat humbly--