"Good-evening, Bernhard; good-evening, Thea," a joyous voice called out very near them, and Lothar galloped up, followed by a second horseman in uniform.

Lothar had in fact been transferred to a regiment of hussars stationed in the neighbourhood of Eichhof, but he had been sent until lately to a distant garrison, and had but just arrived at the small town near by.

"I am making my first formal neighbourly visit to you," said Lothar, riding close up beside the carriage, while the other horseman also approached and saluted Bernhard and Thea.

"Lieutenant Werner is my stay and consolation in my present Gotham,"

said Lothar, as the carriage proceeded slowly, escorted by the two riders; "he knows Berlin as well as I do, and we exchange reminiscences."

Lieutenant Werner smiled. "Yes, it was hard enough at one time to be away from Berlin, but I am very well content now to be in R----."

"And what of your studies, Herr von Werner?" Thea asked. She was already acquainted with the young officer, and knew that he was interested in science.

"Ah, madame, there is much to be desired in that direction," he replied.

And Lothar called out from the other side of the carriage, "He lives like a hermit, Thea; but I hope to spoil his books for him."

"You will hardly do that," said Werner.

"Nonsense, my dear fellow! 'All printed stuff is dull and gray, the tree of life is ever green and gay,'" Lothar declared, in a rather free paraphrase of Goethe. Then he turned to talk with Bernhard about his horses, while Werner rode by Thea's side until the carriage stopped at the gateway of the castle.

"I am so glad to see you here; I hope you will come often," Thea said, as she got out of the carriage and offered her hand to Lothar.

Lothar kissed it, and replied, "I am only afraid of coming too often, Thea; so let us have it settled in the beginning that if I come to Eichhof as often as I have the time and desire to come, you will turn me out if I come at the wrong time."

Thea laughed. "I agree," she said. "You shall at all events have a room always ready for you, and plenty of almond-cakes."

"Oh, you have not forgotten what I like best. Bernhard, your wife is an angel!"

"I knew that long ago," Bernhard said, with a laugh, as he led his guests into the bow-windowed room, where the servants were just lighting the lamps.

"I must set Werner afloat," Lothar said, in the course of conversation; "to-day we call here, to-morrow at the Wronskys, the day after to-morrow----"

"Are the Wronskys at home?" Thea interrupted him. "I thought they were travelling."

"They have been back for two weeks," Lothar replied. "I saw her at a dinner at the Schonburgs'. She is really a very charming and interesting creature. I was not half so much pleased with her at first as I am now. They tell all kinds of stories about her, but----"

"What are the stories about her?" asked Thea.

"Nonsense, Lothar!" Bernhard interposed, as his brother was about to give his version of an _on dit_. "Why repeat silly stories, which no one will vouch for, and of which every one has a different version? The lady is now Marzell Wronsky's wife; he is our neighbour, and for his sake we ought not to repeat such reports."

Thea looked at her husband in surprise. He had so often expressed his dislike of this woman, and yet he was suddenly so eager in her defence.

She said nothing, however, because she suspected that it would be better not to have these 'reports' retailed at her table, and Werner, who thought he detected a shadow of annoyance on her countenance, said quickly, "The lady's conduct certainly is at present perfectly correct, and she is very interesting in conversation. I lately took her in to dinner somewhere, and I was amazed to find how much she had seen of the world. She is perfectly familiar with Europe, and has been to Palestine and spent a winter in Cairo besides."

"Did you not envy her?" said Thea, to whom Werner had formerly confided his great love of travel, and the fact that with all his economy he could only contrive to take a short journey every other year.

"Just a little," he replied; "but we had one memory in common of one of her smallest journeys and of my largest one. After the Paris Exposition she went to Trouville."

"You were there too, Bernhard, and just at that time," said Thea.

"Oh, there must have been many people there at that time of whose existence I was entirely unaware," Bernhard said, hastily; but something in his tone of voice and in the expression of his face struck Thea, and, little p.r.o.ne as she was to suspicion, the thought occurred to her, "He knew her."

"Of course, society at Trouville is so mixed," said Werner, "and so various, that it is impossible to know every one. Frau von Wronsky seemed not to have enjoyed her stay there very much."

"Naturally." Thea turned to her husband. Had he spoken the word, or had she been mistaken?

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I said nothing," he replied.

"Heavens, Thea, you have an entire agricultural library here!" Lothar exclaimed at this moment. He was never quiet long, and while the others had been conversing he had been walking about the room on a tour of discovery in search of new books or pieces of furniture. He was now standing before a pretty open set of book-shelves, from which he took several books and brought them to the table. "Since when have you been perusing works upon drainage, irrigation, and plans for factories?" he asked, laughing, and pointing to the t.i.tles of the volumes.

Thea blushed, and piled the books together. "Don't be so rude as to disarrange my books, Lothar," she said, as she took up some to put them away again.

But Bernhard detained her. "Thea," he said, "now I understand where your 'ideas' came from. Have you really been studying all this tiresome, dry stuff, and was this what you meant the other day when you declared that you had discovered an excellent antidote for ennui?"

"Why, of course, I wanted to be able to talk about all these things with you, and to know something at least of what is absorbing your thoughts," she said, with a still brighter blush, forgetting for the moment both her guests and Frau von Wronsky, as she noted the expression of her husband's eyes. The next instant she turned away, with a laugh, to rearrange her books.

Bernhard looked after her with an emotion that he would have found it difficult to express: never had she seemed to him so enchanting, so charming, as at this moment. Lothar laughed; Lieutenant Werner looked grave, and, when Thea again joined the group around the table, gave her a glance of intense admiration.

A servant announced that tea was served in the dining-hall, and thither the party repaired.

Thea tried to lead the conversation to the Wronskys again, but Bernhard persistently changed the subject whenever they were alluded to.

"Why is it so disagreeable to him to hear that woman talked of?" Thea said to herself.

It was tolerably late when the two officers took their leave, but Thea was not at all tired, and while Bernhard accompanied them down into the hall, she fetched a large photograph book, in which were the photographs of all the landed proprietors of the neighbourhood, with their wives, and when Bernhard returned he found her lost in contemplation of Frau von Wronsky's face.

"I am glad they are gone, Thea," he cried, more quickly and merrily than was his wont to speak, "for now I can thank you as I should for reading all those books for my sake. I know you did it all for love of me, my darling."

He drew her tenderly towards him; but although his words would have made her perfectly happy a few hours before, she now returned his kiss rather coldly, and said,--

"Good heavens, it was not much to do; it really interested me very much, and papa explained everything to me that I did not understand.

But," she added, without explaining the strange sequence of ideas, otherwise than by pushing forward the book of photographs,--"tell me, Bernhard, did you not know the Wronsky at Trouville?"

"What put that into your head?" asked Bernhard, thrusting the book aside. "I told you before----"

"You spoke of _many_ people, Bernhard, but you did not say that you did not know _her_."

Now Bernhard smiled. "Oh, you women!" he exclaimed, drawing his wife towards him. "Well, since you are developing such a talent for diplomacy, you may learn that I certainly did have a distant acquaintance with her, but that she belonged to a circle that makes it very desirable that I should ignore all former acquaintance with her whatsoever. Yes, I owe it to Marzell Wronsky to preserve entire silence with regard to that time, and all I can tell you is that she did not so conduct herself as to lead me to regard her as a fit a.s.sociate for you."

"Why, what did she do?"

"She was very imprudent, my child. But pray let us drop this subject; we neither of us care anything about her, and I have told you what I have because I know you are no gossip and would rather help me to keep the secret of my former acquaintance with her than prevent me from doing so. You now know that my only reason for silence as to my ever having seen her before is a reluctance, for her husband's sake, to being questioned with regard to her former life."

"Yes, Bernhard, but----" Thea hesitated, and hid her face in her hands, although Bernhard could see her forehead and neck flush crimson.

"But? What is it that you want to know?"