Saying which he took his daughter's arm and left the room, where the fullest maternal wrath now broke over poor Willibald. Frau von Eschenhagen, already provoked by the preceding conversation, did not spare her son, but justified only too well the reproaches of her brother-in-law. She scolded the engaged and soon-to-be-a-husband young man like a schoolboy.

"This surpa.s.ses everything conceivable," she concluded in highest indignation. "Your father was not very much at courting, but if he, after two days' betrothal, had fallen asleep while I was entertaining him with my music, I should have aroused him very unceremoniously. Now, do you go immediately to your fiancee and beg her pardon. She is quite right to feel offended."

With which she grasped him by the shoulder and pushed him very emphatically toward the door.

w.i.l.l.y accepted it all very humbly and remorsefully, for he was indeed shocked at his untimely slumber; but he could not help it--he had been so sleepy and the music was so wearying.

Quite crushed, he entered the next room, where Toni stood, rather offended, at the window.

"Dear Toni, do not think hard of me," he began hesitatingly; "it was so hot and your playing had something so pacifying."

Toni turned. That this march, with her playing of it, should be pacifying was new to her; but when she saw the crushed mien of her betrothed, who stood like a prisoner before her, her good nature conquered, and she held out her hand.

"No, I am not angry with you, w.i.l.l.y," she said cordially. "I do not care either for the stupid music. We will do something more sensible when we are at Burgsdorf."

"Yes, that we will," exclaimed w.i.l.l.y, joyfully pressing the offered hand. He had not yet aspired to even a kiss upon the hand. "You are so good, Toni."

When Frau von Eschenhagen entered soon afterward, she found the couple in perfect harmony, engaged in a highly interesting conversation about dairy affairs, which were somewhat different in the two localities of Burgsdorf and Furstenstein. This was a subject over which w.i.l.l.y did not fall asleep, and his mother congratulated herself secretly upon this splendid daughter-in-law, who showed no inconvenient sensitiveness.

The young man found opportunity almost directly to prove himself grateful for the indulgence of his betrothed. Toni complained that a package which she had ordered and which was needed for the supper table had not yet come. It had arrived safely at the post office, but, it seemed, with a wrong address, and had not been delivered to the messenger, who in the meantime had been dispatched elsewhere. No other servant was at liberty to go, and the time of need for it was drawing near. Willibald hastened to offer his services, which were joyfully accepted by his fiancee.

CHAPTER XIV.

Waldhofen was the most important village of the vicinity, but still only a small place. It was about half an hour's distance from Furstenstein and formed a kind of centre for all the scattered villages and hamlets of the Wald.

It looked very desolate and forlorn during the afternoon hours, when n.o.body was on the streets; so thought Herr von Eschenhagen as he walked across the market place, where the post office was situated.

He finished the errand which had brought him to Waldhofen, and found a man to carry the parcel to the castle. Then, since the streets of the quiet little place offered no diversion, he turned into a lane which led to the high road behind the gardens of the houses.

The path was rather boggy; yesterday's rain had made it quite without a foothold in places. Yet Willibald was farmer enough not to care about such things, but marched on unconcernedly.

He was in an exceedingly happy mood. It was surely a pleasant thing to be betrothed, and he did not doubt in the least that he would lead a very happy life in the future with his good Toni.

At this moment a carriage came toward him, making its way laboriously through the boggy soil, and apparently bringing travellers, for a large trunk was strapped on behind, and the inside seemed to contain various travelling appurtenances.

Willibald could not help wondering why they used this lane, which, in its present condition, was very tiresome; indeed the driver seemed dissatisfied. He turned in his seat to consult with the traveller, who so far had not been visible.

"It really does not go any further, Fraulein. I told you so before. We cannot get through here, the wheels stick in the mud. We are in a fix now."

"But it is not far now," said a fresh voice from the inside; "only a few hundred paces. Just try it again."

"What is not possible is not possible," returned the driver with philosophical composure. "We cannot get through that mire before us; we must turn back."

"But I do not wish to drive through town." The voice had a spice of defiance in it now. "If it is not possible to drive on, I shall dismount."

The driver stopped, the door was opened, and a light, slender figure sprang from the carriage with such sure aim as to reach a higher spot across the mire. There she remained and glanced around searchingly: but as the lane made a bend nearby, only a little of it could be overlooked. The young lady seemed to observe this with dissatisfaction.

Then her glance fell upon Herr von Eschenhagen, who, approaching from the other direction, now reached the bend.

"Please, mein Herr, is the lane pa.s.sable?" she called. He did not answer directly, being petrified with admiration of her daring and graceful jump. Why, she flew through the air like a feather and yet stood firm and safe upon her feet where she landed.

"Do you not hear?" repeated the Fraulein impatiently; "I asked if the lane is pa.s.sable."

"Yes, I have walked over it," said Willibald, somewhat confused by the dictatorial questioning.

"I see that, but I have no boots like yours and cannot wade through the mire. Is it possible to pa.s.s along the hedges? Great heavens! at least answer me."

"I--I believe so. It is somewhat dry over yonder."

"Well, I shall try, then. Turn back, driver, and deliver my baggage at the post office. I will send for it. Wait, I will take that satchel with me. Hand it across."

"But the satchel is too heavy for you, Fraulein," remonstrated the driver, "and I cannot leave the horses alone."

"Well, then, this gentleman will carry it for me. It is not far to our garden. Please, mein Herr, take the satchel, the small one upon the back seat with the black leather lining. But do make haste."

The little foot stamped the ground impatiently, for the young lord stood there with open mouth. He could not comprehend how a total stranger could dispose of him so nonchalantly, nor how so young a girl could command in such a way.

At the last very ungracious words, however, he made haste to approach and take the designated satchel, which seemed the proper thing to be done.

"So," she said shortly. "You, driver, stop at the post office, and now forward into the bogs of Waldhofen!"

She picked up her gray travelling dress and walked close to the hedge, where the road was somewhat higher and dryer.

Willibald, of whom no notice was taken, trotted behind her with the satchel. He had never seen anything so graceful as this slender figure, which did not reach to his shoulder, and he occupied himself in observing this figure, because he had nothing else to do.

The young girl had something exceedingly charming and graceful in her motions, as well as her whole appearance; but the small head, with the dark hair curling from under her hat, was carried with undeniable spirit. The face was rather irregular in outline, but lovely with its dark, roguish eyes, while the small, rosy mouth, around which lay a line of refractory defiance, and the two dimples in the chin, made it perfectly charming. The gray travelling dress, in spite of its plainness, was very tasteful and met the requirements of fashion. The young traveller apparently did not belong to the home-made villagers of Waldhofen.

The road around the corner proved indeed somewhat dryer, but one had to keep to the little, raised path near the hedge and to jump at times over damp places. Conversation was, therefore, not possible, and w.i.l.l.y, in truth, never thought of commencing it. He carried the satchel patiently, accepting just as patiently the fact that his companion did not concern herself in the least about him, until, after ten minutes'

walk, they stood at the low gate of a garden.

The young girl bent over the pickets and pushed an inside bolt; then she turned.

"Many thanks, mein Herr. Please give me my satchel now."

In spite of its small dimensions, the bag was rather heavy, much too heavy for the little hands outstretched for it. Willibald was seized with a sudden attack of chivalry--not a usual fault with him--and declared that he would carry it to the house, which was accepted with a gracious nod.

They pa.s.sed through a small, but carefully kept, garden to an old, plain house, and entered through the back door into a cool, dusky hall, where their arrival was immediately perceived. An old servant rushed out of the kitchen.

"Fraulein! Fraulein Marietta! Have you come already to-day? Ach, what joy----"

She got no further, for Marietta flew to her and pressed her little hand upon her mouth.

"Be still, Babette! Speak quietly; I want to surprise him. Is he at home?"

"Yes, the Herr Doctor is in his study. Do you wish to go there, Fraulein?"