The moment had come in which to invite him to visit her, but the words froze on her lips.

He had turned very pale and looked straight into her face expectantly.

"I hope we meet some time again," he said finally.

"I hope so," she replied very formally.

He lightly touched her hand with his lips and left.

Over! Over! And her fault!

Happiness had come, had laid its blessing hand on her forehead, and had flown away again, leaving behind nothing but this pain, a wild pain, such as she had never before felt. It fairly tore at her throat and heart like a physical affliction.

During the night she devised a thousand schemes for hunting him up and meeting him again.

He was a scholar and probably frequented the library. She would go there and read and study, and some day she would surely meet him.

Or, simpler still, she would write to him.

"I don't love you," she would say. "Why should I? I scarcely know you.

But I am confident that I could be something in your life. Therefore--"

Then, disgusted with her lack of dignity, she rejected every plan.

No, Lilly Czepanek after all would not throw herself away in such fashion.

Once more it became impossible for her to remain at home.

In the daytime she walked along the Potsdamer Stra.s.se and Leipziger Stra.s.se, where the metropolitan bustle is the greatest. In the evenings she did not visit distant districts as formerly, but with a busy air hurried incessantly up and down the lonely banks of the ca.n.a.l near her home.

Despite her strict economy she always kept the light burning in her drawing-room, and did not confess to herself why.

It was about eight o'clock in the evening four days after the meeting.

The stars hung like lamps in the heavens. Lilly was pacing along the further bank of the ca.n.a.l, when she noticed the figure of a young man who was looking fixedly in the direction in which her home lay.

She could not distinguish his features, because he kept his back turned.

Besides, he had selected a dark spot for his coign of observation.

With a slight throbbing of her heart she continued on her way, though after a while her legs refused to carry her further in the same direction. She had to turn about.

She found the dark figure still standing motionless among the trees.

From across the water the light in her drawing-room peered through the bare branches.

This time he heard her tread, and faced about.

She recognised his features and started.

He also thrilled with the shock of surprise. For an instant he foolishly pretended not to see her, but then he drew a deep breath and took off his hat with an abashed smile.

Lilly trembled so, she could not hold out her hand.

"Dr.--Rennschmidt," she managed to say.

He was the first to recover his composure.

"You will wonder," he began, stepping alongside of her, "why I stand here in the dark and look over there. If I were to say it was a mere chance, you wouldn't believe me. So I will frankly confess I could not rid myself of the thought that at our parting something went wrong--there was a misunderstanding--precipitancy--I felt I ought to beg your pardon for something."

"If you felt that way, why didn't you come up to me, and tell me so?"

"Was I permitted to?"

"Why not?"

"You see, we men have no rights with women except such as they give us.

No others exist for us. To be sure, we may stand in the dark here, and bite our lips--"

"Did you?"

"Don't ask me."

His voice did not quiver, but a tremour ran through his arm, which grazed hers.

Lilly, alarmed, stopped and helplessly looked back at the dark way she had come.

"That means--I--I must say good-by?" he asked.

In the light of the lamp she saw his eyes clinging to her with a look of fearsome inquiry.

"Oh, no," she replied slowly, as if some one else were speaking in her stead. "Now that we are together, we will remain together."

"I think so, too," he said. The same gravity of an oath lay in his words as she had put into hers.

They walked along in silence.

Then he began in a lighter tone.

"But I must call your attention to something. Your light is burning. If you really do want to favour me with an hour, I'm afraid the thought of the waste will disquiet you."

"Well, we'll put it out!" she replied gaily, and turned on her heels so abruptly that he continued to make two or three steps forward.

As they crossed the slender arch of the Hohenzollernbrucke, he pointed up to the heavens.

"Jupiter shines on our undertaking. I like him better than Venus, who runs after the sun and needs a rosy flooring for her feet."

"Which is Jupiter?" asked Lilly standing still.