"They are well and send their love," said the Baron soothingly. "Do not be alarmed, Eugenie, you have no cause to fear for any who are dear to you. The mourning which has fallen on our house does not, I regret to say, deeply affect our hearts. But you shall hear all about that later on, now you must tell me" ...

"No, no," interrupted his daughter uneasily. "I must know first for whom you wear this c.r.a.pe. Why are you in mourning?"

"Windeg placed his c.r.a.pe-bound hat on one side and drew his child more closely to him; there was something convulsive, something painful, in the manner of his tenderness towards her.

"I am on my way to pay the last marks of respect to our cousin Rabenau.

His property lies in this province."

Eugenie started up. "Count Rabenau? the owner of the entailed estates?"

"Is dead," continued the Baron, speaking with difficulty. "In the fulness of life and strength, a few weeks before his intended marriage.

No one could have foreseen that."

Eugenie had grown deadly white. It was evident that the news awakened in her some terrible emotion which yet was not grief. She said no word, but her father seemed to understand her agitation.

"You know that we have been strangers to each other for a long time,"

he went on sadly. "Rabenau's rough, fierce ways made it impossible for us to be on good terms, and I shall never forget the bitter repulse I met with from him six months ago. He could have saved us if he would, it would have been but a light thing to him. He refused harshly and peremptorily, and now he is dead, leaving no issue. I succeed to the entailed property, now that it is too late, that I have sacrificed my child!"

There was such misery in his tone that Eugenie made a great effort to control herself, and succeeded after the lapse of a minute or two.

"O papa, you must not think of me now! I--I am quite relieved to know that you will be so richly compensated for all the past humiliations. I was only a little startled, taken by surprise at the sudden news. We never could have counted on the succession."

"Never!" said the Baron gloomily. "Rabenau was young and strong, he was about to be married. Who could have guessed that a three days' illness would have carried him off? But, if he was fated to die, why, oh! why could this event not have happened sooner? A month ago, half, nay, a quarter of the wealth now flowing in upon me would have saved us. I could have flung back his money to the rogue who brought my misfortunes on me, with the hundredfold rate of usury which he claimed, and my only daughter would not have been the price of his vile bargain. I accepted your sacrifice, Eugenie, G.o.d knows not for my own sake, but for that of the name we bear, and to secure my sons' future. Now, when I think that all that bitter sacrifice was in vain, that a short chance delay of a few weeks would have spared it us both, I cannot endure this mockery of Fate."

He pressed her hand tightly in his. But, by this time, Eugenie had won back all her pride and complete composure. If this "too late" were terrible in its effect upon her, she did not allow it to be seen.

"You must not speak so, papa," she replied firmly. "It would be unjust to your other children. Count Rabenau was such, that we can only formally mourn his death, and it sets you free from much trouble and embarra.s.sment. My marriage only averted the most threatening danger.

There remained burdens enough upon us, which weighed heavily and might one day have brought you again into degrading dependence on that man.

All fear of this is now over for ever, you can pay him back the whole of what you have received, we shall owe him nothing more!"

"But he will owe us," interrupted Windeg bitterly, "and he will take good care never to pay his debt; it is the thought of that which turns my joy to gall. A short time back I should have greeted this deliverance with delight, and with the keenest sense of relief, now it drives me to despair on your account."

Eugenie turned away and bent over some flowers which bloomed in a vase at her side.

"I am not so unhappy as you and my brothers perhaps fancy," said she, in a low voice.

"Not? Do you think your letters could deceive me? I knew beforehand that you would do all to spare us, but if I could have had a doubt, your pale face would have told the story plainly enough. You are unhappy, Eugenie, you must be unhappy with this man who"----

"Papa, you are speaking of my husband!" The young wife spoke with so much warmth, and rose so hastily from her seat, that her father stepped back and looked at her, astonished at her tone and at the crimson flush which overspread her countenance.

"Forgive me," said he, recovering himself, "I cannot accustom myself to the thought that my daughter belongs to an Arthur Berkow, and that I am at the present moment in his house. They oblige me to enter it if I wish to see my own child! But you are right, I must spare you in speaking of the man you have married, though I can see plainly how much you have suffered, and still have to suffer through him."

The deep glow was fading slowly from Eugenie's face, but there was still a lingering flush on it, as she answered hurriedly,

"You are mistaken, I have no complaint to make of Arthur. He has held himself aloof from the first with a forbearance for which I can only thank him."

The Baron's eyes kindled.

"I would not advise either him or his father to forget the regard which is due to you. They, of all people, least deserved the honour you have brought to their house, where there was no great honour before. And one satisfaction I can give you, Eugenie: you will not long have to bear a name to which attaches so much meanness, so much roguery to us and to others, roguery none the less shameful that the law cannot touch it. I have taken care that, at least, there shall be an end of that."

His daughter looked at him in surprise.

"What do you mean, papa? An end of what?"

"I have taken the necessary steps to obtain for your"----the Baron seemed to have some difficulty in p.r.o.nouncing the word, "your husband an elevation to the peerage. Only for him, not for his father, I will render _him_ no service, and I will not have him, even formally, admitted into our ranks. It is not unusual that such a change of position should be accompanied by a change of name, and so it shall be in this case. You can choose yourselves among the names of your estates that which may seem to you the most suitable for the n.o.ble race you are about to found. Your wishes will be taken into consideration."

"The n.o.ble race we are about to found!" repeated Eugenie almost under her breath. "You are mistaken, papa, and if you only wish for this elevation of rank on my account ... but you are right! It will be best in any case. The thought has been dreadful to me that I had to accept back, as a free gift from Arthur's generosity, that which he had bought and paid for. Now, we can offer him something for it. The patent of n.o.bility will be ample compensation for all that he gives up."

In the bitterness of this outburst there was an undertone of suppressed pain. To Windeg one was as incomprehensible as the other; his daughter's speech was an enigma to him, and he would have asked her for an explanation, if a servant had not just then appeared and announced Herr Berkow, who wished to wait upon the Baron.

Arthur entered and approached his father-in-law with some polite speech about the latter's unexpected visit. The young man had resumed his old blase manner. He welcomed his guest as a mere matter of etiquette, and his guest, in return, just submitted to the welcome as to a necessity.

This time no strangers were by, so even the form of shaking hands was omitted. They contented themselves with bowing coolly, then the elder man took up his position again at his daughter's side, and the younger remained standing, evidently intending to shorten, as much as might be, this enforced visit to his wife's boudoir.

Windeg would not have been the consummate man of the world he was, if, notwithstanding the exciting nature of his talk with Eugenie, he had failed to fall back at once into a conventional tone. The usual inquiries were then made, and information given as to different members of the family. Count Rabenau's decease was mentioned as the cause of the journey, and formal condolences were offered by Arthur, who certainly had no idea of the change which this death would bring about in the circ.u.mstances of his new relations. At length the Baron introduced a new subject.

"But," said he politely, "I bring some news from the city which must have a real interest for you, Herr Berkow. I take it for granted that your father's wishes respecting an elevation of rank have been no secret from you, and I am in a position to a.s.sure you that they are likely to be fulfilled. On one point, certainly, I find the obstacles to be insurmountable. There are certain--certain prejudices against Herr Berkow personally, which can hardly be set aside, but, on the other hand, there is every disposition to distinguish him, as one of the leaders of the industrial movement in this country, by conferring a t.i.tle on his son. In short, I hope soon to offer you my congratulations thereupon."

Arthur had listened without any change of countenance. Now he raised his eyes, and Eugenie's gaze was immediately riveted on them, with an interest inexplicable even to herself.

For the moment, however, there was but little to be read in his face.

"May I ask, Baron, whether the wishes of my father were alone consulted in this matter, or whether the question has been raised out of regard to your daughter?"

Windeg felt slightly embarra.s.sed; he had reckoned so surely on some expression of thanks, and now instead there came this singular inquiry.

"Our wishes on the subject became naturally identical, when once the alliance between us was accomplished," he returned rather stiffly.

"Besides, I did not conceal from Herr Berkow my doubts as to any personal benefit accruing to himself. I received an a.s.surance from him that he would, if necessary, lay aside his own claims in favour of his only son and heir, his sole anxiety being to secure for him a brilliant career in the future."

"Then I regret that my father has not made me acquainted with the progress of this affair. I only knew of it as a vague project," said Arthur coolly, "and I regret still more that you should have used your influence to procure for me an honour, which I, unfortunately, must decline."

The Baron started up and stared at his son-in-law.

"Excuse me, Herr Berkow, did I hear aright? I understood you to speak of declining"----

"Of declining a peerage, were it offered to me. Yes."

Windeg was utterly disconcerted, a thing which rarely happened to him.

"Well then, I must beg of you to give me your reasons for this, to use a mild term, very singular refusal. I am extremely anxious to hear them."

Arthur looked across at his wife. She had started as he spoke, and the deep flush had again mounted hotly to her cheeks. Their eyes met, and they gazed for a second at each other, but the young man found in his wife's face no inducement to yield. He answered with a decided ring of defiance in his voice.

"My refusal is less singular than the proposal, as it is made to me.

Had a t.i.tle been conferred on my father, on account of the services he has indisputably rendered to the industry of the country, I, as his heir, should have joined in accepting it. Such a recognition is honourable as any other. It has not been thought fit to grant it to him, and I, of course, am no judge as to the prejudices which may stand in the way. But, for my part, I have not the very smallest claim to such a distinction, and therefore I think it better not to set afloat a report in the city that a connection by marriage with the Windeg family will necessarily imply a peerage."

He let fall the last words very quietly, but Eugenie pressed her lips angrily together. She knew he meant them for her alone. Was he bent on freeing himself from everything that could justify her contempt? Her wish to feel such contempt was stronger than ever.

"I seem indeed to have been in error as to the motives which led you to desire our connection," said the Baron slowly, "but I must confess I was not prepared to find that you held such views. They must be of somewhat recent date, for, before your marriage, you appeared to entertain quite different ideas."

"Before my marriage!" A smile of infinite bitterness played about Arthur's lips. "I was somewhat ignorant then as to the way in which I myself and my position in society were looked upon in the upper circles. This has since been clearly pointed out to me in a rather unsparing fashion, and you can therefore hardly feel surprise that I should renounce all idea of forcing my way into them as an unwished-for intruder."