Oswald and Bruno had stepped forth from the trees which surrounded the
lawn, just opposite to the chateau. His right arm was resting on the
boy's shoulder, who again had put his arm round Oswald's waist, and
looked smilingly up into the face of the young man. They were eagerly
talking to each other, and stopped when they had advanced a few steps
on the lawn. Oswald pointed in the direction from which they had come,
and Bruno ran back into the wood. The young man stood waiting for his
return, and whisked off, to pass his time, the heads of some grasses
which had shot up too high. He had no suspicion that, at a little
distance from him, a pair of beautiful sharp eyes were carefully
examining every feature in his face and watching every motion.
"If that is the new tutor, he is one more proof of the old saying, that
there is no rule without exception. He certainly does not look as if he
belonged to the family of the Bemperleins. That elegant summer costume
you must have bought in the city. Very neat, indeed, for a tutor. You
seem to be rather vain, my dear sir, and to hold long interviews with
your tailor. But you are well made, I must confess, and the little
moustache is extremely becoming to you. I wish you would please raise
your head a little more, so that I could see your eyes. That is
right--ah! _sauve qui peut!_"
Oswald had raised his head and looked at the windows; Melitta stepped
quickly back and hid behind the door. She cast a glance at the mirror
that was hanging close by, and smoothed her hair in an instant. Then
she approached the door once more stealthily.
Bruno came rushing forth from the shrubbery and showed Oswald a small
volume. "Here it is," he cried, "but you shall not have it." Oswald
tried to catch the provoking boy; but the latter only allowed him to
approach quite close in order to escape again by a sudden turn, or by a
leap such as Uncas himself would have boasted of frankly.
Melitta, attracted by the pretty scene, had stepped out of the room. As
soon as Bruno perceived her he ran up to her, and Oswald, who had
stopped in surprise at the unexpected sight, saw how the boy seized her
hands and pressed them eagerly to his lips.
"There you are, little savage," said the lady, stroking the dark curls
of the boy; "where have you been all the afternoon?"
"I have been out walking--with Oswald--I mean with Dr. Stein," said
Bruno, and then turning to Oswald, who had come up in the mean while
and bowed, "this is Frau von Berkow, of whom I spoke this morning; this
is Mr. Stein, dear aunt, whom I love dearly, and whom you must like for
my sake."
"We must not praise our own wares too much," said Oswald, bowing once
more to the fair visitor, "or the purchaser will become suspicious."
"Not when the merchant enjoys such confidence as this wild little
fellow," replied Melitta, blushing lightly. "How long have you been
here at Grenwitz, doctor?"
"About a fortnight."
"I think the baroness told me you came from the capital?" asked
Melitta, who was curious to know if her suspicions about Stein's
costume were well founded.
"Not directly; I have been living in Grunwald lately."
"In Grunwald! I am glad to hear that. You will be able to give me the
information I want. The thing is this--but I fear I am troubling you
with indiscreet questions."
"Not at all! I should be very happy, indeed, if I could be of the
slightest service to you."
"You are very kind. The thing is this: I want to send my son, who is
about Bruno's age----"
"Oh, aunt, he is three years younger than I am," cried Bruno, balancing
himself on a swing at some little distance.
"What keen ears the child has!" said Melitta, lowering her voice.
"Well, I want to send my son Julius to Grunwald to college. Or rather,
I have to do it, because his tutor, a Mr. Bemperlein, who has been six
years at my house, has obtained a place as minister, and is going to
leave us in a few days. Now I do not know--but here comes the baroness,
and I must postpone for some other time my thousand and one questions
about all kinds of things, of which I know as little as my good
Bemperlein. I never knew how things look in a great city, and he has
long since forgotten what he may have known. Here we shall never find
an opportunity. What do you say, doctor--could you do me the honor to
pay me a visit some one of these days? Perhaps to-morrow afternoon?"
Oswald--bowed assent.
"I have asked the doctor to pay me a visit to-morrow," said Melitta,
turning to the baroness, who had just come back into the room with
Mademoiselle Marguerite. "It is about that affair in Grunwald. You have
no special engagement, I hope, for to-morrow afternoon, for I should
not like to make Doctor Stein lose too much."
"We, an engagement!" said the baroness. "Don't you know our quiet life,
my dear Melitta? On the contrary, I think a little diversion of that
kind will be very welcome to the doctor, who must have begun to be
tired of the uniformity of our life here. I had thought myself of
proposing a visit to you, Doctor Stein,--to our minister, who is, I
fear, a little hurt that you have not yet been presented to him."
"Well, we can do both things very easily," said Melitta; "to-morrow is
Sunday; the Reverend Mr. Jager will be delighted if you increase the
small number of his hearers by your presence. If you go through the
forest you will find Berkow only half an hour's walk from Faschwitz. I
would ask you at once to dine with me, but I know the minister's wife
will not let you off so cheap. Well, what do you say, doctor?"
"I can only express my thanks to the ladies, that they are kind enough
to dispose of my time so much better than I could possibly have done
myself," replied Stein, with a polite bow.
"That means, the wise man yields to inevitable fate," said Melitta,
laughing. "And here comes the baron with Malte, and we can go in to
dinner, a step which I am perfectly ready to take."
The dinner was set on the terrace, which had been added to the chateau
on the side towards the garden, and which ran the whole length of the
building. A tent protected the guests against the sun. The evening was
beautiful. The sun was near setting. Rosy lights were playing in the
tops of the lofty beech-trees which surrounded the well-shaded lawn.
Swallows flew about, dashing to and fro through the clear atmosphere. A
peacock came, attracted by the well-known clattering of plates, and
took his place at the foot of the terrace, where he picked up the
bread-crumbs which the baron threw him over the stone balustrade.
The conversation was much more lively than usual. The baroness could
make a very agreeable hostess when she chose, and was by no means so
entirely free from vanity that she should have remained inactive when
she feared to be neglected for the sake of Melitta. Melitta herself was
in her most amiable humor; she jested and laughed, she teased and was
teased, unconcerned and innocent, like a mere child. Oswald did not
dream, while abandoning himself willingly to the charm of Melitta's
attractions, that his presence contributed largely to the greater
cheerfulness. And yet this was exactly the case. There are few women
who are perfectly indifferent to the impression which they produce on
the company in which they are, and Melitta was certainly not one of
those few. Her disposition was rather to be easily excited, and to be
bribed by pleasing forms and clever words, in a manner which is utterly
unintelligible to colder natures. Oswald was perhaps not exactly what
the world calls a handsome man; but yet nature had not neglected him,
and the good society in which he had always moved had added to the
innate gracefulness of his manners. All this surprised Melitta the more
agreeably, as she had not expected it in a man of such humble
pretensions. Oswald appeared to her every moment of greater importance;
she began to fear that her brusque invitation had been out of place,
and yet she was charmed with the idea of seeing the young man at her
own house. She felt flattered when she met more than once, Oswald's
admiring glance across the table; and yet she always cast down her long
silky eyelashes, searching and eloquent as her eyes generally were.
After dinner the baroness proposed a game of graces, as Melitta
declared that she could remain a little longer. Bruno ran off to bring
the hoops, which were neither out of place nor out of repair,--a fact
which spoke volumes for the scrupulous order that reigned at the
chateau. Soon the company was standing about on the lawn in a wide
circle, and the graces flew around merrily through the soft, warm
evening air. All, even the baron, showed more or less skill in the
game, except Malte, who could never catch the hoop when it did not fall
straight upon his stick. Melitta, on the other hand, never failed to
avail herself of his missing, for the purpose of sending her hoop, with
lightning speed, out of the regular order, at the head of some one of
the other players, and Oswald noticed that he was more frequently
distinguished in this way than any of the others.
In the mean time it had become nearly dark; the old baron had noticed a
few dew-drops on the grass, and the evening dew was, in his opinion,
sheer poison for Malte, who had suffered for some time of diphtheria
when a child. He proposed, therefore, that they should all go in.
Melitta found that it was high time for her to return, and begged that
her groom might be ordered to saddle the horses. Bruno had hurried away
with the order; the baroness and mademoiselle had gone into the
sitting-room; the baron was busy wrapping a thick shawl around Malte's
throat to prevent his taking cold, and thus Oswald and Melitta found
themselves alone for the first time since their short conversation
before. Melitta had broken a rose from a bush which grew at the feet of
the stone Flora, and stood looking thoughtfully at the brilliant
flower.
"I must beg your pardon," she said suddenly, in a low, quick voice, but
without raising her eyes, "that I committed the blunder of asking you
_sans facon_ to pay me a visit which may give you some trouble."
"Not at all; I repeat quite sincerely now, what I before said from
common politeness, that I shall be very happy indeed to be of some
service to you."
"Then you will come to-morrow?"
"At your service."
"No, as I wish it!--Just see how marvellously beautiful this rose is!
Are you as fond of roses as I am?"
"I love everything beautiful," said Stein, looking not at the rose but
at Melitta.
She raised her long eyelashes and looked deep and full into the young
man's brilliant eyes.
"There!" she said suddenly, holding the rose towards him as if to let
him smell it; but he only felt how the slim fingers of the lady touched
his lips like a mere breath.
"Here are the horses, aunt!" cried Bruno.
"I am coming!" replied Melitta, and left Stein.
The rose was lying at his feet; he quickly stooped, picked it up, and
hid it in his bosom.
Mademoiselle Marguerite brought Melitta her gloves, her hat, and her
whip.
"Is the baroness in the parlor?"
"Yes."
"Then I'll go and say good-by to her."
The old baron, Oswald, and the boys went through the gate in the iron
railing of the park into the courtyard, where a groom was walking two
horses up and down. Oswald admired the beauty of the animals,
especially that with the lady's saddle, a thoroughbred, and Melitta's
pet--Bella.
Melitta stepped quickly out of the portal, followed by the baroness and
mademoiselle. The old baron helped her in the saddle.
"Good-by! good-by!" she called out. "_Allez_, Bella!" and thus she
galloped away out of the courtyard into the dim evening air.
The others had gone back into the house. Oswald alone remained, his
eyes fixed upon the gate through which Melitta had disappeared, and
sunk in deep thought.
"Had we not better go in, Oswald?" said Bruno, seizing his hand. "It is
quite dark now."
"It is quite dark now," repeated the young man, and followed the boy
dreamily.