'It may perhaps cost you some effort,' said the mother, smiling, 'but it will do you good. Go to your practice, my daughter.'

Georgina departed, shrugging her shoulders, and the storm of emotion, so long restrained, once again floated over the face of the mother, who had hitherto struggled with all her power, to conceal her feelings from the eyes of observers. 'G.o.d give me strength for the sorrow and the joy of this interview!' cried she, sinking upon the sofa.

CHAPTER LVI.

The hour had struck. The daughter opened the door of the cabinet, and, accompanied by his adopted son, Arwed count Gyllenstierna entered.

Neither years nor sufferings had been able to bow his tall figure. The lineaments of his face, however, told of sad mental struggles and glorious victories. His locks of gold were bleached to silver, and upon his newly made black national uniform shone the magnificent seraphim-order, and with the sword and crown of the order of military merit, the peaceful sheaf of the order of Vasa. He remained standing, and cast upon the beloved of his youth, from his large blue and still brilliant eyes, a glance which cut her to the soul. Lady baroness von Eyben!' said he, in a tone in which love and anger, reproach and rapture, were strangely mingled.

It was too much for the heart of the matron. 'Not so, Arwed, not so!'

cried she, beseechingly, and attempted to approach him; but, her heart impelling her forward while profound respect held her back, she remained irresolutely standing in the centre of the room.

'Please to permit, baroness,' said Arwed, 'that my son and your daughter retire to the ante-chamber. My communication requires no witnesses.'

The young pair seemed to be well pleased with the proposition. The baroness looked doubtingly at Arwed, as if she feared a private interview; but finally her heart conquered. She nodded permission to Georgina, and the two disappeared with a celerity that astonished the mother.

The former youthful lovers were alone. Georgina motioned Arwed to a seat upon the sofa, placed herself beside him, and both remained a long time silent, whilst the past was loudly speaking in their hearts.

'Georgina!' at length Arwed exclaimed, seizing her hand.

'Be tranquil, dear Arwed!' said she. 'If the strong man cannot control his feelings, how can a feeble woman command hers? Let us first speak of the present. Have you not a letter for me from the king?'

'Cruel!' sighed Arwed, drawing forth a letter and solemnly rising from his seat, 'You have pet.i.tioned his majesty for the restoration of your father's confiscated property in the German provinces. I bring you the king's answer.'

'The person selected as its bearer is a guaranty of a merciful decision,' said Georgina, also rising. With trembling hands she took the letter, unfolded and attempted to read it,--but her vision became indistinct, her hands shook, and at length amid streaming tears she cried, 'I cannot! Read the letter for me, dear Arwed.'

He read:

'I esteem the memory of the renowned and unfortunate baron von Goertz too much to receive without emotion the intelligence that there is yet remaining one of those children who were made orphans by the tyranny and shocking injustice of the queen Ulrika Eleonore and of the persons who presided in her courts and councils. His innocent blood has remained too long unavenged. Sweden, through long, unhappy, desolating, distracting years, has paid the tribute demanded by the anger of heaven for the crime committed against a great and unfortunate man. I therefore wish, as first citizen of my native land, in the name of that native land, to hasten the reparation of the injustice of my predecessors. To this t.i.tle, which I look upon as one of the fairest granted to me by Providence, I add that of my family, for whom Goertz was made an offering. You may easily judge, madam, how very much I am disposed to grant you that justice which you claim as daughter and heiress of the deceased baron von Goertz.'

Georgina, almost frantic with joy, s.n.a.t.c.hed the letter from Arwed's hand, and pressed it to her lips and heart. 'Lord G.o.d, we praise thee,--Lord G.o.d, we thank thee!' she shouted in her exultation, sinking upon her knee, and raising the paper towards heaven in her clasped hands.

'It is truly a royal letter,' said the deeply moved Arwed; 'but such a letter from him would surprise no one who knew him.'

'Oh, my father!' cried Georgina, holding the writing up towards heaven, 'learn in thy place of bliss that thy honor is restored before the world, and that thy happy daughter has been instrumental in its accomplishment!'

'You see, my dear Georgina,' said Arwed, 'that Sweden is not unjust.

The public character of a people can only appear through its government. That justice which the cruel Ulrika, the weak Frederick, the chained Adolphus Frederick, derided or denied, the worthy Gustavus, now that his hands are free, grants in the fullest measure.'

'Much,' said Georgina, endeavoring by the introduction of new topics of conversation to allay the violence of her emotions, 'much was said in Germany of the revolution which delivered the crown from the usurped supremacy of the royal council, and I, at least, have cause to bless the Nemesis who guided it.'

'That occurrence,' remarked Arwed, 'stands like a rare and brilliant meteor in the horizon of Europe. A national revolution, originating with the king himself, accomplished in a few days, without bloodshed, and calculated to promote the welfare of the whole country, is perhaps unparalleled in the history of the world!'

Both remained a long time silent. At length Arwed inquired, 'how is your sister, the good little Magdalena?'

'She died many years since, in Hamburgh, the wife of the privy counsellor von Laffert,' answered Georgina.

'And you--are a widow?' he asked in a low tone.

'Since four years,' she answered with downcast eyes.

'It is the penalty of age,' cried he, sorrowfully, 'that, one by one, all whom we have loved go before us to the eternal world. Life's way becomes every day more dreary and desolate, and wo to the unhappy being to whom remains not even one companion of the good old times. His is a solitary death, with none to drop a tear of regret upon his grave.'

'Very true!' said Georgina with deep feeling, and wiping the tears from her eyes.

'Georgina!' cried Arwed, suddenly and with vehemence; 'in my youth I was never able to subdue or conceal the emotions of my heart. Age has not changed me in that respect. That I might see you once again, and have an opportunity to lay before you my last request, I have obtained the king's permission to be the bearer of this letter. Hear me with kindness.'

'Spare me,' said she, greatly agitated.

'Your father's honor is restored to all its original brightness,'

continued Arwed, without heeding her remark. 'My father has long slept in his grave. The causes no longer exist which once forbade my earthly happiness. I have sacredly kept my truth. You are again free. Do not now refuse me your hand.'

'Oh, my G.o.d!' cried the terrified Georgina. 'No, it is not possible!'

'Refuse me not your hand, Georgina!' said Arwed with all his former tenderness of tone.

'Dear Arwed,' answered she, with a smile, 'what would our children say?

_Theirs_ is the season of love.'

'How happy is youth!' exclaimed Arwed, sighing.

'Honorable age has also its pleasures and enjoyments,' said Georgina, placing her hand in his.

'When it wanders arm in arm with the chosen companion of its youth,'

answered Arwed with emotion. 'But when it is compelled to creep alone to a solitary grave, then are honors and riches a miserable compensation for a life without an object.'

'Arwed!' exclaimed Georgina in the sweet tone of former times.

'Wilt thou be mine?' cried Arwed, pa.s.sionately.

'Thine, eternally!' murmured she, while a faint blush threw the glow of undying youth over her cheeks, and she sank sobbing upon his bosom.

FOOTNOTE:

[Footnote 1: A French word, signifying _a.s.sa.s.sin_.]