"Bernhard," she whispered, still covering her face, "tell me truly and really, were you never in love with her?"

"Never!" he exclaimed, drawing down her hands.

"Look in my eyes, Thea, while I tell you that I never cared for this woman, and never had any a.s.sociation with her whatever."

"Thank G.o.d!" she whispered, drawing a long breath of relief.

CHAPTER XII.

ANOTHER PROMONTORY COMES IN SIGHT.

The long summer days as they pa.s.sed were happy indeed for Thea, and all the more cloudless and sunny because of the absence at a watering-place of the old Countess Eichhof.

The young wife had wellnigh forgotten the shadow that had been cast upon her path for a moment by the figure of Frau von Wronsky, and she was no longer in the least jealous of the old superintendent, for she was now Bernhard's daily companion and her advice and opinion were eagerly sought for. Bernhard was almost as inexperienced as herself in the management of an estate, and, since she had more leisure and less ambition for distinction than he, the old superintendent sometimes declared that the Frau Countess really understood matters better than the young master. Lothar frequently occupied his room at Eichhof, rode Bernhard's horses, ate almond-cakes, and entertained his comrade, Werner, with accounts of his sister-in-law's constantly increasing beauty. Werner seldom came to Eichhof, but when he did come, Thea always had much to tell him. She read the books that he recommended to her, and he was the only one who seemed to take any interest in Walter.

Thea corresponded with her youngest brother-in-law, and hoped in time to be the medium of reconciliation between him and Bernhard, who made no objection to this correspondence, although he refused to listen to Walter's letters. Lothar was not so decided in his antagonism towards his younger brother, but he yawned whenever Thea spoke of him, and so she was driven to seek sympathy solely from her father and from Werner.

Each listened attentively to all she had to say of Walter, for, although Werner did not know him personally, the young fellow's pluck and determination interested him greatly.

In all things else perfect harmony existed between Thea and her husband. And yet these sunny summer days were not long cloudless. For some time it had seemed to the superintendent that his master's enthusiasm was on the wane. "It will increase again," he thought at first, but before long he began to shake his head over the state of affairs. At last Thea too noticed that Bernhard was often out of sorts and not so actively employed as heretofore. The reason for this was to be found not in outward circ.u.mstances, but in Bernhard himself. He had, it is true, had many disappointments, and had encountered many obstacles, but what especially galled him was the reflection that he was not turning his talents to sufficient account. When, young as he was, he entered upon his inheritance he had determined to effect extraordinary results. In his ardour for accomplishment he had forgotten that there must be a certain knowledge acquired for such accomplishment, and now he could not but frankly confess to himself that he had really done very little, that those in his employ had been the real workers and had understood matters far better than had their master. There had been much outlay of capital also, and it was questionable whether this outlay had always been judicious.

"I fritter away my powers of mind in too many directions," he said to Thea one day, "and I fear I am not precisely fulfilling my vocation. I attempt to be architect, mathematician, grazier, and ever so many other things besides, and I know that I am really none of all these, and do not indeed desire to be. I fancied the management of a landed estate to be something vastly more important."

"But it certainly is a fine thing to arrange and to create as you are doing," Thea replied. "I feel proud as we drive through the meadows, where your will has transformed what was unprofitable land into green gra.s.sy fields."

"Yes, I am pleased with that too, but in fact I have had very little to do with it; others have done it for me, and would have done it as well without me."

Thea sighed; she was so content, and she had been so proud of this very industry of Bernhard's that he was now depreciating.

Then Lothar came to Eichhof one day and reported that several of the most respectable citizens of R---- had asked him whether he thought that his brother would accept a nomination for the Reichstag. Bernhard knew that there had been some such proposition talked of in official circles, and he had cherished the idea, since he was the largest landed proprietor in his district, and the seat that it commanded would fall vacant just when he had completed his twenty-fifth year and was thus eligible for a nomination.

"I know that some of our neighbours are thinking of you, too," said Lothar; "and you will see, when you come to the Diet-a.s.sembly to-morrow, that you will be offered the nomination."

Bernhard's eyes sparkled. "I confess that the possibility occurred to me," he replied. "Hohenstein said something about it the other day; but I'm afraid that the ultramontane candidate has the only chance."

"That's a question," said Lothar. "Herr M----, it seems, has some blots on his scutcheon, which his opponent will use to the best advantage; and since Wronsky, in view of his Polish ancestry, I suppose, is to be their second candidate, there will hardly be a due amount of enthusiasm among the ultramontanists, since he is, to my certain knowledge, a very lukewarm Romanist. And, besides, you, with all your dependants here, have more votes at your disposal than any one of them."

"I never would force my people to vote against their own convictions."

"Nonsense! If they are not convinced that their master is the fittest man to represent them, let them find another master."

"Now you are talking just like Hohenstein," said Bernhard, laughing.

"Did you not discuss a bowl of punch together last night while he explained to you his views upon the coming election?"

"You're right as far as the punch goes, Bernhard, but as for the views, they are my own, and I think you owe it to the good cause to accept the nomination, since every one says that you have by far the best chance to defeat the ultramontanist."

"Well, we shall see how matters look to-morrow at the Diet," said Bernhard.

"You will be there, at all events?"

"Of course."

Thea had hitherto listened in silence. "Bernhard," she now said, suddenly, "if you were elected you would have to go to Berlin in the autumn."

"Possibly."

"But, Bernhard, you know----" She leaned over him and whispered a few words in his ear.

"No need to trouble ourselves about it, my child," he replied. "In the first place, my nomination is entirely uncertain, not to speak of my election----"

"But you would accept it?"

"Good heavens! I really do not know. 'Tis a matter for grave reflection."

He tried to convince himself that he had come to no decision, and he was nevertheless exulting in his inmost heart at the thought of political activity. Politics were a.s.suredly fitted to employ all his powers, to call forth all his energy. Here was a field in which a man could gratify his ambition and achieve prominence without the petty labour, the commonplace effort required by the management of an estate.

Lothar, usually so slow to reflect and to draw conclusions, was clearer-sighted than Thea in this matter. He knew that his brother would accept this nomination, while the young wife hoped to induce him to decline it. She had taken great pains to fit herself to share in her husband's present interests, and she was proud that she had succeeded.

What possibility was there of her gaining any insight into politics, when that was to take place in the autumn which would prevent her from accompanying her husband to Berlin?

There was no room for doubt upon the subject, however, by the evening of the next day, when Bernhard came home, accompanied by the Freiherr von Hohenstein, who presented her husband to Thea as "our future member for the Reichstag, madame."

"Bernhard?" she exclaimed, in involuntary alarm.

"Certainly not member yet," said Bernhard: "but the confidence reposed in me by my old friends and neighbours is so flattering, dear Thea, that I could not do otherwise than accept the nomination with thanks."

"Nonsense! your election is a certainty," said Hohenstein; "leave that to us. I'll have no one in my service or on my land who does not vote with me; nor shall those who do not vote with me be benefited by my bounty during the winter. Every man of them has something to gain from us, and must do our pleasure if he hopes to retain our good will."

"But, papa," cried Adela, who had ridden over to Eichhof to meet her father, "you must not send Jusak away. He is the best groom we ever had, and keeps my mare in such beautiful trim; besides, he rides superbly. Only a week ago the poor fellow was groaning over the coming election, because his wife is such a terrible scold and the most devout Catholic in the entire village, always going twice to church every Sunday and holiday. He says his vote must cost him either dismissal from your service or a terrible row at home that will last he cannot tell how long."

Hohenstein laughed. "Why doesn't the rascal keep his wife in better order, then?" he rejoined.

"He keeps the mare and everything else in his charge in perfect order."

"Nevertheless, if he votes against me he shall go. All our neighbours think as I do in this matter, and you, Eichhof, are, I suppose, no exception."

"Bernhard, you would not really act thus?" asked Thea. Her husband shrugged his shoulders.

"Hohenstein has far more experience in such affairs than I," he replied. "Such a course is hardly what I should like, but it may be the only one to pursue. It is not simply a personal question; the principles that I advocate are at stake, and they must be maintained; each vote that I lose adds one to the opposition. We must look to the end in view."

"And shut your eyes to the means; there speaks the Jesuit, Thea!" Adela exclaimed, laughing.

"You do not understand, Fraulein Adela," said Bernhard, who was still under the influence of the excited speakers to whom he had been listening in R----. "I was disposed to be of your opinion, and even now I am not in favour of harsh measures to secure votes, but I see clearly that some pressure must, be brought to bear. The vote of one of us, trained as we have been to reflect and decide, to draw logical conclusions, is of no more weight than is that of an ignorant groom, whose ideas are centred in his stables. These people scarcely know what questions are at stake in the choice of a member for the Reichstag, and cannot possibly judge who would best represent the interests of the country. They have been strongly influenced all their lives long, and to suppose that they can suddenly form an independent judgment in so important a matter as an election of this kind is perfect nonsense.

Therefore it is for their own good that they should be influenced now."

"Yes, with food, f.a.gots, and dismissals," exclaimed Adela. "Very well, Count Bernhard; if I lose Jusak through your fault all friendship between us is at an end."

"Then all I can do to regain your good will, Fraulein Adela, is to raise my voice in the Reichstag, if I ever get there, in favour of the emanc.i.p.ation of woman."