"Dear aunt!"

Elsa had thrown her arms round her aunt and kissed her; the kind creature wanted nothing more. "Well, well," she said, "you careless child! You will quite spoil your pretty dress."

She had freed herself from Elsa's embrace, and was smoothing and arranging her darling's dress. "There, step back a little; you look charming this evening, Elsa."

"I don't think so at all."

"Like my Princess! The evening that the Duke, her present ill.u.s.trious husband, was to be presented to her for the first time, 'I don't think I look at all pretty to day,' said she."

"But I am not going to be presented to a Duke," said Elsa.

"How you do mix things up, child! As if you could marry a reigning prince, except by the left hand! Besides, we shall only have a member of a former reigning house here. Prince Clemda, and he is already betrothed. So I could not be thinking of him."

"And of no one else, I hope, aunt."

"I must be very much mistaken, Elsa, or your blushes--yes, you are blushing, my dear child, and you blush more and more, though it is quite unnecessary before your aunt. I can a.s.sure you, on the contrary, that I consider the match in every respect a most proper and desirable one, and the chance--if it is not a crime against Providence to speak of chance in such important matters----"

"For heaven's sake, aunt, if you love me, say no more," exclaimed Elsa.

The terror that seized her at the idea of hearing her aunt speak of Count Golm, after Ottomar had already alarmed her in the morning on the same subject, was too evident in the tone of her voice to escape even Sidonie.

"Good gracious!" she said, "can I really have been mistaken! I had been thinking over the extraordinary dispute which we had this morning, and could only account for it by the explanation that you wished to conceal the inclination you have for the Count by an affectation of indifference, and even of want of consideration towards him."

"I did not intend anything of the kind," said Elsa.

"I am really sorry for it," said Sidonie, who now, under the pressure of her disappointment, seated herself--though with due regard to her brown silk gown--while Elsa walked up and down the room in some agitation; "really very sorry; I know nothing that would have given me greater pleasure, next to Ottomar's betrothal to Carla, which, in my opinion, has been too long delayed. The Count is thirty--a very good age for a man of his position to marry--he must and will marry one of these days, and he might seek long before he would find a young lady who would so entirely satisfy all the pretensions he has a right to make, and no doubt does make. His circ.u.mstances are somewhat embarra.s.sed, but that is almost always the case nowadays with large properties; men always settle down when they are married. Besides, he will gain enormously by the new railroad, so Schieler says, who told me all these particulars. The Councillor was with me yesterday, and I almost fancied he must have come on purpose to tell me, and to hear what I said about it, as he has always had a great regard for my opinion. He is a charming man, and discretion itself; so I did not hesitate to tell him exactly what I thought; in these cases openness is always the best diplomacy, and when advances are made there is no harm in meeting them half way."

"It is too bad, aunt!" exclaimed Elsa, turning round and standing with her lace handkerchief crushed between her hands, while burning tears of shame and anger started to her eyes.

Sidonie was so startled by this outburst, for which she was not in the least prepared, that she sat motionless and speechless with wide open eyes, while Elsa, instead of immediately begging her pardon, or calming herself, continued with flaming cheeks and sparkling eyes: "To talk me over like that with a stranger! and with Schieler, of all people, whom I detest as much as I do the other whom you have chosen for me, and whom I would never marry, not if he had a crown to lay at my feet, never--never!"

"What is the matter, Elsa?" asked the General, who entered the room at that moment and had heard the last words.

"A slight difference of opinion between me and my aunt," answered Elsa, hastily wiping her eyes.

"Well, well," said the General, "I thought you ladies left that sort of thing to us men. Is Ottomar not here?"

He left the room again to inquire after Ottomar.

"Forgive me, aunt," said Elsa, holding out her hand; "it was very wrong of me. You do not know, but--I do not know myself, what is the matter with me this evening."

It was with some hesitation that Sidonie took her hand; the General came in again.

"It is too bad," he said; "Ottomar went out again quite an hour ago and has not yet returned."

"He must be delayed by some important matter," said Sidonie.

"No doubt!" said the General, frowning, and pulling his grey moustaches.

"Councillor Schieler!" announced August, opening the folding-doors.

The Councillor kissed Sidonie's hand and bowed low to Elsa, then turned to the General:

"I have heaps of news for you, my dear friend."

"Few things happen now to interest me, and still fewer that give me any pleasure," answered the General, with a courteous yet melancholy smile.

"I fear I cannot promise that my news will give you any pleasure," said the Councillor; "but at least it is interesting even to you, ladies, that the Baroness, instead of arriving on the 1st as she originally intended, will arrive on the 10th, and will therefore be here in three days."

"I had a letter this morning which said nothing about it," said the General.

"My letter arrived this afternoon, and is, therefore, doubtless the latest; it is not from herself, however, but----"

The Councillor was interrupted by a slight cough.

"You may say the name out, my dear friend," said the General; "it cannot be avoided when once our meetings begin."

"You are right!" exclaimed the Councillor; "and I am happy----" The widowed Countess von Fischbach arrived at this moment with her two daughters; the ladies were engaged with their guests, and the Councillor was able to draw the General aside. "I was about to say that I am happy to find you so well prepared for what awaits you from Munich. I know how painful everything connected with the subject is to you, and yet I must ask your patience for a few minutes before you are called away by your other guests. My second piece of news is that the concession is granted."

"Impossible!" exclaimed the General.

"As good as granted."

"We had a meeting only this morning; it is true we were engaged upon other matters, but his Excellency would at least----"

"He knows your dislike to the project; I repeat, as good as granted, and that 'as good' is at the present moment better than good. I implore you, my honoured friend, to listen to me patiently; the matter is of the greatest importance, not only to me, who have only an indirect interest in it, but more especially and directly to you. The concession will of course only have been granted for a harbour on the north, against which you have no immediate objection; is not that true? Good.

Now I know for certain that, behind your back, there was to the very last moment a hesitation between the North and the East Harbour, and that the pressure used has only just failed in turning the scale to the East. I need not tell you by whom pressure was put; you know better than any one the interest that Golm, who by the way will join the management, has in the existence of the railroad; and his connections in a certain region are better, very much better than I could have dreamt of. I tell you it only wanted the merest trifle. And just imagine, Signor Giraldi--I must mention his name now--has written to me to-day that the sale of part of the property appears to him advisable for the better regulation and easier administration of the rest; and that the Baroness--that is to say he--for here as everywhere he is the mouthpiece of the Baroness--will propose the sale at our meeting.

Wallbach is in favour of it as he always has been; as a man of business I cannot oppose it; in short, the property will, as far as I can see, be sold. It is almost impossible, or at least most improbable, that Giraldi should know the state of affairs here, and that an eager purchaser is ready to hand in Golm. But if Golm sees a possibility of concluding the bargain, he will move heaven and h.e.l.l to carry through the East Harbour at the last minute. And now, my honoured, my excellent friend, allow an old friend, of whose devotion you are aware, one word in confidence--a bold one if you will: you are not rich; Ottomar is extravagant; it is no small matter for Ottomar to see his portion with one stroke doubled if not quadrupled in value with the rest, and Fraulein Elsa will be richer in the same proportion; and if at the death of the Baroness they inherit the remaining half, and Fraulein Elsa makes a suitable marriage--with Count Golm for instance, to name the first that occurs to me--you may close your eyes--G.o.d in His providence grant not for many a long day--with the comforting reflection that the external well-being of your family is secured for all futurity, so far as man's foresight can determine. Be wise then, my honoured friend. You need do nothing. You have only to refrain from opposition and give in to what you cannot prevent. Lastly, you must remember the good old saying: 'Well to endure what cannot well be cured;' which you will doubtless remember in your youth."

The General had listened without a sign of the impatience that was usual with him when an adverse opinion was put before him; his brow had not clouded; there was even an unusually gentle, almost sad, tone in his deep voice, as he now, without raising his eyes, said, as if to himself: "I remember the saying well. It dates from the time of the wars, of liberation, and many an oppressed heart derived comfort from it in those troubled times, and many a broken courage has been supported by it. It hung framed and glazed on the wall of my father's best room; I can still see my dear mother standing before it and reading what she had read a thousand times before:

"'To triumph not in joy nor dread the storm, Well to endure what cannot well be cured, To do good actions and rejoice in beauty, To love our lives and not to fear death, Firmly to trust in G.o.d and a better future, This is to live, yet rob death of his sting.'"

The General looked thoughtfully before him. What an inconveniently retentive memory the man has! thought the Councillor.

"And look, my dear friend," continued the General--and his eyes now rested so steadily on the Councillor that the latter, in spite of all his efforts, was forced to turn away his own--"according to the true meaning of the proverb and my own feelings it would not be doing a good action. Indeed, according to my own feelings I could no longer live, and should with justice shrink with terror from death, like a dishonoured coward, if, for the sake of outward advantage, were it a thousand times as great as it here appears to be, I neglected my positive duty and obligation, and did not resist, by every means in my power, a project the accomplishment of which I am firmly persuaded would be a manifest injury to our military strength, and an unprincipled squandering of our means, which we have the strongest reasons to be careful of. I have already nearly neglected my duty when I threw the burden of the report of this odious affair on Sattelstadt's shoulders; although I knew that his opinions were the same as my own.

After what I have just heard from you, I cannot do otherwise than bring forward the subject on my own responsibility at the board, and in any case acquaint the Minister with my disapproval. And now, my dear friend, excuse me! I must help the ladies to do the honours."

He turned towards the large drawing-room; the Councillor looked angrily after him.

"He is incorrigible. I almost wonder he did not turn me out of the house. That will be the next thing. Do not fatigue yourself so much, Count. It is of no use."

CHAPTER VII.