"What! Toni engaged again?" asked Frau von Eschenhagen in surprise.

"Yes, but this time she managed it all by herself; I did not have an inkling of it. You will remember that she took it into her head at that time that she, too, wanted to be loved in a surpa.s.sing manner, and enjoy the usual romance of it. Herr Lieutenant von Waldorf seems to have attended to that. He has, as she told me with highest satisfaction, sunk on his knees before her, and declared he could not and would not live without her, while she gave him a similar touching a.s.surance, and so forth. Yes, Regine, it will not do any longer to lead the children by the ap.r.o.n strings when they become of age. They imagine that marriage is solely their affair, and really they are not so far wrong about it."

The last remark sounded very suggestive, but Regine overlooked it completely. She repeated thoughtfully:

"Waldorf? the name is quite strange to me. Where did Toni get acquainted with the young officer?"

"He is my son's friend and he brought him home with him at his last visit. In consequence of that an acquaintance with his mother was begun, which ripened until she invited Toni to visit her some weeks, and there and then the falling in love and engagement took place. I have nothing to say against it. Waldorf is handsome, jolly, and in love up to his ears. He does seem to be a little volatile, but he will settle down when he gets a sensible wife. The model boys are not after my taste; they are the very worst when they do get wild, as we have seen in your w.i.l.l.y. Waldorf will get his discharge in the fall, for my daughter is not suited for a lieutenant's wife. I will buy an estate for the young couple, and the wedding will occur at Christmas."

"I am so glad for Toni's sake," said Frau von Eschenhagen, cordially.

"You take a burden from my heart by this news."

"I am glad, too," nodded the Chief Forester, "but now you ought to follow my example and take a burden from the hearts of a certain other couple. Be reasonable, Regine, and give in! The little Marietta has remained true, although she was on the stage. Everybody praises her blameless conduct. You do not need to be ashamed of your daughter-in-law."

Regine arose suddenly and pushed her chair back.

"I beg you once for all, Moritz, to spare me such requests. I shall stand firm at my word. Willibald knows the condition under which alone I will return to Burgsdorf. If he does not fulfil it--the separation remains."

"He knows better," said Schonan dryly, "than to give up his bride-elect and marriage solely because she does not suit his Frau mamma. Such conditions are never fulfilled."

"You express yourself very amiably indeed," returned Frau von Eschenhagen angrily. "Of course, what do you know of the love and anxiety of a mother, or of the grat.i.tude her children owe her? All of you are ungrateful, inconsiderate, selfish----"

"Oho! I beg you, in the name of my s.e.x, to refrain from such vituperations," interrupted the Chief Forester hotly; but suddenly he reconsidered and said: "We have not seen each other for seven months, Regine; we really ought not to quarrel the first day again--we can do that later on. Let us therefore leave your refractory son alone for the present, and speak of ourselves. How do you like it in town? You do not exactly look so very well satisfied."

"I am exceptionally satisfied," declared Regine with great decision.

"What I need only is work. I am not used to idleness."

"Then create work for yourself. It rests solely with you to again step to the head of a large household."

"Are you commencing again----"

"I did not mean Burgsdorf this time," said Schonan, playing with his riding whip. "I only meant--you sit all alone in town, and I shall sit all alone at Furstenstein when Toni marries--that is very tiresome! How would it be--well, I have already explained it to you once before, but you did not want me then. Perhaps you have bethought yourself better now. How would it be if we should make the third couple at this double wedding?"

Frau von Eschenhagen looked gloomily to the floor and shook her head.

"No, Moritz. I feel less like marrying now than ever."

"Already a 'No' again!" shouted the Chief Forester wrathfully. "Is this a second refusal you give me? At first you did not want me because your son and your beloved Burgsdorf had grown too near your heart, and now when you see that both get along very well without you, you do not want me because you do not '_feel like it_.' Feeling does not belong to marrying, anyhow only some sense is wanted; but if one is unreasonableness and obstinacy personified----"

"You woo me in a very flattering manner, indeed," interrupted Regine, now wrathful also. "It would be an exceedingly peaceful marriage if you act like this as a suitor."

"It would not be peaceful, but neither would it be tiresome," declared Schonan. "I believe we could both stand it. Once more, Regine, do you want me or do you not want me?"

"No; I do not care to '_stand_' a married life."

"Then let it alone!" cried the Chief Forester furiously, jumping up and s.n.a.t.c.hing his hat. "If it gives you so much pleasure to say 'No'

forever, then say it. But w.i.l.l.y will marry in spite of you, and he is right; and now I shall be the best man at the wedding just to spite you."

With which he rushed off, quite beside himself at this second jilting, and Frau von Eschenhagen remained behind in a similar frame of mind.

They had really quarrelled again at the first _Wiedersehen_, and even the second refusal could not be left out of this friendly habit.

CHAPTER XLV.

Meantime Prince Adelsberg was with Frau von Wallmoden in the park. He had begged her not to interrupt her outing, and so they both walked in the shade of the huge trees in the cool, green twilight, while out on the meadow lay still the glaring sunlight.

Egon had not seen the young widow since the death of her husband. The formal visit of condolence, which he had made after the accident, had been received by Eugene Stahlberg in the name of his sister, and then they had left the city immediately.

Adelaide wore, of course, the widow's mourning; but her companion thought he had never seen her so beautiful as to-day in the deep, sombre black and crepe veil, beneath which the blonde hair glimmered.

His glance pa.s.sed repeatedly over this beautiful blonde head, and always the question recurred: What has really happened to these features that they look so entirely different?

Egon had only known the lady at whose side he now walked in that cool, haughty composure which had made her so unapproachable to him and the world. Now this coldness had disappeared, and he saw and felt but could not decipher the strange change which had taken its place.

The young widow could not possibly mourn so deeply and seriously for a husband who was so far removed from her in age, and who, even had he been young, could never have given her the love youth demands, with his practical, coldly calculating nature. And yet there lay over her whole appearance the expression of secret suffering--of a sorrow which was mutely but painfully borne.

Where did this mysterious line come from, this soft light of the eyes which seemed to have learned but now to know tears?

"It always seems to me as if life and fire could glow there and transform the snow region into a blooming world," Prince Adelsberg had once exclaimed in jest. Now this transformation had taken place, slowly, almost imperceptibly. But this soft, half-painful expression which replaced the former seriousness, this dreamy look, gave a charm to the young woman which, with all her beauty, had been missing before--a charming, gentle grace.

At first the conversation touched upon indifferent things only, the questions and answers that were customary and formal. Egon narrated incidents of happenings during the winter at Court and in town, and then offered the same explanation of his sudden arrival which he had given the Chief Forester, speaking of the unendurable heat at Ostend and of his longing for the cool, still forest solitude.

A fleeting smile which quivered over the lips of his companion told him that she believed this pretext as little as had the Chief Forester, and that the notice in the papers had also been seen by her. He grew unaccountably vexed about it and studied how he could remedy the mistake, here where he could not be so plain-spoken, when Adelaide suddenly asked: "Shall you remain alone at Rodeck, Your Highness? Last summer you had a--guest with you."

A shadow pa.s.sed over the face of the young Prince. He forgot the rumor of his engagement and his anger about it at this remark.

"You mean Hartmut Rojanow?" he asked, gravely. "He will hardly come, as he is in Sicily at present, or at least was there two months ago. I have had no news from him since, and do not even know where to write him."

Frau von Wallmoden bent down and picked some flowers growing at the wayside as she remarked: "I thought you were in lively correspondence with each other."

"I hoped so at the beginning of our separation, and it is not my fault; but Hartmut has become a perfect mystery to me lately. You were witness of the brilliant success of his 'Arivana' at our Court Theatre; it has since then been reproduced at several other theatres. The play is conquering by storm wherever it appears, and the author withdraws from all these triumphs--almost flees from his rising fame--hides from all the world, even from me. Let who can comprehend it!"

Adelaide had regained her former erect carriage, but the hand which held the flowers trembled slightly, while her eyes were directed upon the Prince in breathless expectancy.

"And when did Herr Rojanow leave Germany?" she asked.

"At the beginning of December. Shortly before that he had gone to Rodeck for a few days immediately after the first appearance of his drama. I considered it a caprice and yielded. Then he suddenly returned to my house, in town, in a condition of mind and body which really frightened me, and announced his departure; listened to no entreaties, answered no questions, but remained firm about going, and really left like a whirlwind. Weeks pa.s.sed before I heard of him; then he sent me occasional letters, which, if rare enough, at least kept me aware of his whereabouts, and I could answer him. He went to Greece, where he strayed now here, now there. After that he went to Sicily, but now all information has stopped, and I am in the greatest alarm."

Egon spoke with suppressed excitement. One could see how deeply the separation from his pa.s.sionately loved friend hurt him. He did not dream that the young widow at his side could have given him an explanation of the mystery. She knew what drove Hartmut to wander restlessly from land to land; what made him shudder before the famous poet's name which bore that secret but awful stain. But it was the first news she had heard of him since that disastrous night at Rodeck, which had discovered everything to her.

"Poets are sometimes differently const.i.tuted from common mortals," she said, slowly plucking to pieces one of her flowers. "They have the right sometimes to be incomprehensible."

The Prince shook his head, incredulously and sadly.

"No, it is not that; this comes from an entirely different source. I felt long ago that something dark--mysterious--lay in Hartmut's life, but I never inquired into it, for he would not suffer the slightest touch on this point, and he kept silent persistently. It is as if he stands under a doom, which gives him no peace or rest anywhere, and which springs upon him suddenly when one thinks it buried and forgotten. I received this impression anew when he took leave of me in wild agitation; it was impossible to hold him. But you cannot imagine how I miss him! He has spoiled me with his presence for over two years and with all the advantages of his rich, fiery nature which he gave lavishly. Now everything has become desolate and colorless to me, and I do not know at times how I can bear life without him."

They came to a standstill, for they had reached the limit of the park.