"Yes," said she, "I can well say no one on this earth suffered more for her sake than I did."

She wept so bitterly that Bruno offered to console her.

At last he left.

It was several days before Walpurga recovered from the effects of her fright. Again and again, it seemed to her that it might be better if Irma were found out, for perhaps she was quite ill and might die before her time. But if she were discovered, it would kill her at once. This accounted for her uneasiness, while at the hut on the previous Sunday, and for her having enjoined the greatest caution on the uncle. She was constantly pursued by the thought that there would soon be an end to it all. If one only knew how and what the end would be, and whether anything could be done. She could do nothing. All she could do was to let what would happen.

CHAPTER XI.

The trees in Gunther's garden were decked with green and the parterre was filled with lovely flowers. The birds were singing, and the forest stream that flowed through the grounds murmured as if regretful at being obliged to leave the spot so soon.

Within doors all was joy and happiness. Bronnen and Paula were betrothed. The love that had calmly grown and ripened, now suddenly burst forth in all its glory. Bronnen wished to call Paula his own, before the arrival of the court, so that she might then feel less constrained and have an opportunity to accustom herself to the manners of the court circle. It was not without fear that Madame Gunther thought of her child entering the stirring life of the capital, a life of which she had an unconquerable dread. Bronnen told the doctor and his wife that he had found it easier to bring about reform in politics than in court etiquette. It had hitherto been a time-honored and unalterable custom that wives of the citizen cla.s.s' could not be presented at court, no matter what their husbands' rank might be. He had not been able to effect a change in this until he had made it a cabinet question. Gunther smiled at this explanation. He knew how stubbornly etiquette resisted all attempts at innovation. Madame Gunther, on the other hand, was quite alarmed at the idea that, both at court and at the capital, Paula would be the first lady after the queen. She would have been far better pleased if Bronnen's position had been an humbler one; but she loved him with a maternal affection that expressed itself in her every glance. She even went so far that Gunther smilingly remarked: "You've become disloyal to your own country,--" for she had a.s.serted that a man so n.o.ble, so dignified, and yet both firm and yielding in character, could only be developed under a monarchical government. "In a republic," said she, "there is a certain want of form and indulgence of personal inclinations. The self-respect which never fails in the respect due to others was the peculiar fruit of courts, and Bronnen had one talent which was especially calculated to place every one at ease while with him. He was a good listener, and was always willing to wait attentively until you had finished what you wanted to say."

The joy of the parents was, however, but a mild reflection of that of the betrothed. After Paula had, in all sincerity, confessed her fear that she might fail to satisfy a man like Bronnen, she soon became calm again, for she felt that there is a depth of love which, including all that is highest on earth, embraces enduring happiness. The lovers roamed through field and forest, and Bronnen was again and again reminded of the pure and radiant sentiments which the refined and elevated atmosphere of her home had firmly established in Paula. With every new chord that he touched, he struck a rich store of thought and found her gifted with an impressible and receptive mind. He rejoiced in the destiny which had thus directed his choice, and in the conviction that all individual improvement is achieved and perfected by mutual effort.

Madame Gunther was with her husband in his study, and would, now and then, look out of the window at the lovers, who were walking in the garden.

"Bronnen made a strange confession to Paula and me yesterday," said she. "If another had told me of it, I would not have believed it."

"What was it?"

"He told us, with a voice full of emotion, that he had once loved Countess Wildenort. Did you know of it?"

"No, but I can't find anything wrong in it. If she only could have controlled her impulses, she would have been worthy of the best of men, and my dear Eberhard deserved to have such a man for his son."

"Tell me," asked Madame Gunther, "I've never found the slightest thing to object to in him, but do you think it right of him to tell Paula of this? It will make her still more anxious; she will compare herself with the brilliant countess, and--"

"Don't let that trouble you," said Gunther, interrupting her; "a heart which, like our child's, is conscious of the full power of love, possesses an inexhaustible fund of happiness which no rival, be she ever so great and brilliant, can disturb. If it were possible, I would think even more of him than I now do, for having told her of this. It is not every man who is so fortunate as I have been, and whose first love is his only love. Most of us are obliged to pa.s.s through disappointment and loss, and he who, like Bronnen, has come out of the ordeal, pure and unscathed, may praise his lot. The more I regard the world from a distance, as it were, the greatest misfortune which has befallen mankind is, that a life soiled by vice should go on parallel with that which is termed regular and domestic, creating discord among men, as well as in the individual mind. If the race is to be saved, a great revolution must take place in the minds of men. We have watched over our child so long and so faithfully that, in spite of all worldly happiness, it would deeply grieve me to see her bestow her hand on a man who, according to the counterfeit expression coined by society, has led a fast life."

Madame Gunther regarded her husband with a look of unspeakable joy. "I find that Bronnen has converted you from your aversion to the military profession," she said, in a soft voice.

"By no means," replied Gunther, "but Bronnen has not been injured by it. With resolute courage and an easy sway over others, he combines a deep and earnest mind. It is almost miraculous that, just when I desire to produce in my work the image of a pure and active man of the present day, the very traits I seek are found in the man who, in the free course of nature, is to belong to me. It seems as if mysterious agencies provided us with that which the poetic eye endeavors to portray to itself. Bronnen seems as if stepping forth from my work."

Gunther had never before spoken thus of his work. "Don't misunderstand me," he added; "I do not look upon any one as representing the ideal of perfect manhood, but I can find some traits in every one, and many of them in Bronnen. Humanity, as I find it in the actual world, is filled with beauty; but, in truth, it is still more beautiful, and I am glad to think that the next generation will be better than our own. And yet we may truly say that the good we have achieved, lives on with them.

Their enthusiasm will be less than ours, but their moderation will render it more enduring. But I do not care to go too far into this subject, at present. All I wanted to say was, that the feeling of discord, in modern times, arises from the fact that religion has exalted faith above morals, that art has pursued a similar course with beauty, and politics with freedom. And yet they are one and inseparable, and must ever remain so. I trust that I may yet be able to make this clear to the world, and thus contribute somewhat to the union of true piety, beauty and freedom, with the morality which is, at present, so graciously tolerated."

Their conversation was interrupted, for Count von Wildenort, his wife and mother-in-law were announced. The servant was instructed to ask them to the garden saloon, and, shortly afterward, the visitors, Gunther and his wife, Bronnen and his betrothed, were engaged in lively conversation. Madame Gunther confined her attentions to the young countess, who had greatly improved under Gunther's treatment, while Baroness Steigeneck engaged the lovers in conversation. Madame Gunther would often look at Bronnen and Paula as if she would fain brush away a caterpillar crawling over them. Bruno addressed Gunther quite cheerfully, and told him that during the royal visit he would probably return by command of their majesties. This may have been intended as a hint to Gunther to bring about such an order, for the baroness, greatly annoyed by her exclusion from court, intended to return to her castle, with her children and grandchildren, and then to visit some fashionable watering-place. She was eager to reach the gaming-table.

They were quite long in taking their leave, and expressed their grat.i.tude for the pleasures they had enjoyed during their stay, as well as their envy of those who could live here, as on some happy island. At last they stepped into their carriage and drove off.

After the visitors had left, Madame Gunther opened all the windows, in order that a current of fresh air might carry away the strong perfumes of the baroness.

Bronnen left the same evening. The family accompanied him for a short distance. He and Paula walked in front, Gunther and his wife behind.

The empty carriage followed after them, and Bronnen did not enter it until he had taken leave of his friends. The parting was simple and affectionate. They were full of the joyful memories of the day just past, and looked forward to future happy days, for Bronnen intended to return with the king.

On the way home, Paula walked between her parents, her cheeks glowing with excitement. Gunther, however, left his wife and daughter before reaching home, for he was obliged to repair to Count Wildenort's lodgings, in order to give further directions to his wife.

Mother and daughter went on alone, and when Madame Gunther looked at her daughter, she saw that a silent tear was in her eye, although her face was radiant with joy.

"You have a right to feel happy," said Madame Gunther, "you will have a husband fit to be compared to your father. I can wish you nothing better than to enjoy such happiness as has been mine, and that the joy I have had in my children, and in you especially, may some day be yours."

"Ah mother!" said Paula, "I can't realize how I could let him go away alone, nor, on the other hand, that I am to leave you and father and sister. But Bronnen--" she always mentioned him by his surname--"says that he hopes father will again return to the capital; that he might select any post he pleases, for the king wishes it."

"I don't think your father will consent. But let nothing of that kind distress you, my dear child. You may well be happy, for your happiness is shared by us."

Before reaching home, they saw several beautiful horses and carriages sent in advance of the queen, whose arrival was expected within the next few days. The highway had suddenly become full of life, and the little town was filled with wondering and delighted crowds. The court was coming, and to Gunther they were indebted for all this. The wife and daughter were respectfully greeted by all whom they met, and, even in the distance, one could see the townsfolk pointing them out to the recently arrived court servants, who also greeted them quite obsequiously.

Further on, they met a vehicle which seemed as if it belonged to fairyland. Two tiny bay ponies, with short-clipped black manes and gay trappings, were harnessed to a little, low-wheeled carriage. As if divining what was going on, the children appeared at the farmhouses and rushed across the meadows and fields, to admire the crown prince's fairy-like equipage, and followed it through the town, where the crowd of joyous, shouting children grew larger and larger, until they at last reached the dairy-farm.

Paula looked on with a smile. She stopped with her mother before a house, the signboard on which announced that it was the new telegraph office. Here, thought she to herself, the messages she would send, and those she would receive after leaving her paternal home, would pa.s.s.

The telegraph poles which Irma had seen the workmen putting up near the farm, had been erected on account of the queen's intended summer sojourn in the neighborhood.

Early on the following morning, the first telegram reached the little town. It was addressed to Paula and was as follows:

"I dedicate the electric spark to the service of love. I am well, and send greetings to you, your father, mother and sister.

"BRONNEN."

CHAPTER XII.

The school children were ranged under the fruit-trees on either side of the road. Bells were ringing, music resounding, cannon firing, and the rugged mountains echoed back the merry din.

It was the queen's entry.

She sat in an open carriage drawn by four white horses. The prince, a boy with golden hair and fresh complexion, sat by her side. The carriage stopped at the boundary line. A maiden dressed in the becoming costume of the country, welcomed the queen in a poem of the schoolmaster's composition, and presented her with a bouquet of Alpine flowers. The queen graciously accepted the bouquet. She bowed in all directions and held out her hand to the child. The prince followed her example, saying in a voice loud enough to be heard by the town council and all the catholic and evangelical ministers present: "G.o.d greet you!"

Cheers resounded again and again, and their path was strewn with flowers.

The queen drove through the little town, which was decorated with flags and garlands. On her arrival, she found that the court cavaliers who had preceded her were in waiting, and that Gunther was among them. For the first time since his return, he wore the marks of the various grand orders to which he belonged. After pa.s.sing under a triumphal arch, the carriage stopped and the queen alighted.

She held out her hand to Gunther, who would gladly have kissed it; but he turned to the prince and kissed him. He was so agitated that he could not speak a word. At last he said:

"I bid Your Majesty welcome to my home!"

"Wherever you are, there is home," replied the queen.

She pa.s.sed, leading her boy by the hand.