CONCLUSION.
Meanwhile, on this particular day, Hugo von Wangen had been taking a
long ride to a distant part of his estate. He had asked Clara to
accompany him, quite despairing of inducing Bertha to leave her
luxurious balcony and mount a horse, but, to his surprise, his young
sister had declared that she was far too busy, and that a short ride
across the fields with Jost was all she should allow herself. His
expedition had been a successful one. The improvements which he had set
on foot in the way of drainage of outlying meadows answered his
expectations fully, and it was in a very satisfied and peaceful frame
of mind that he dismounted at a short distance from his home, and,
ordering the groom who had accompanied him to ride to the stables with
his horse, undertook a short ramble on foot through the fields bounding
his garden. The sun was hot overhead, and he gladly sought the cool
shade of the strip of forest on the hither side of these fields, where,
throwing himself on the soft moss, he resigned himself to reflection,
which ended in a pleasant noonday nap. He was wakened by what seemed to
him the stamping of horses. Yes, his ears did not deceive him, that was
an unmistakable neigh; there must be horses near, but how they came
here he was at a loss to divine. There was but a narrow driving road
along the edge of this bit of woodland, and it led abroad into the
fields in one direction and in the other--yes, in the other out on the
road to Plagnitz.
Why should he think of Plagnitz? The road was a highway, and led to
other estates likewise, but the fact was that the jealousy lately born
of his self-depreciation, and of his immense appreciation of his wife's
personal charms and intellectual capacity, was never quite at rest in
his mind.
He arose and walked in the direction whence the sound proceeded. Sure
enough, on the edge of the forest, drawn up in the shade beside the
narrow roadway, stood a light, elegant vehicle, and harnessed to it
were two fine horses, which he well remembered to have seen in the
Plagnitz stalls. The coachman, too, who had made himself as comfortable
as possible on his high seat, was the same fellow whom he remembered to
have noticed about the stables at Plagnitz.
But where was the master of this equipage? and why had Herr von Ernau
transgressed the physician's orders by this early visit? The answer to
the latter question was plain: Herr von Ernau had never forgotten his
former love for Bertha von Massenburg, and he was willing to run all
risks to enjoy the society of Frau von Wangen. Poor Hugo! his jealousy
was no melodramatic passion, but a very uncomfortable, uneasy sensation
that quite poisoned his morning's enjoyment. He had entire confidence
in his wife's honour, but was not so sure of her discretion; at all
events, it 'was confoundedly irritating to think of Von Ernau spending
his idle time at Linau, singing his songs and discussing with my wife
all the books, in which I never could take the smallest interest. We
were very happy before the fellow came.' These were Von Wangen's
thoughts as he tried to find some reason for Egon's leaving his
equipage at this point, if he had really come to pay a visit at Linau.
He walked on to the road, and was about to jump the picket-fence at the
bottom of the garden, when he perceived that the key was in the lock of
the little gate. It puzzled him to know how it came there. Had it
anything to do with Ernau's visit? He opened the gate, and then
remembered the winding path to 'the master's arbour.' Surely the lord
of Plagnitz was not being received there by the fair lady of Linau. The
idea was ridiculous, and yet, instead of taking the left-hand path
leading to the house, he walked slowly along that on the right, at the
end of which stood the rustic structure. As he approached it, the door,
which had partly closed again after Egon's entrance, prevented any view
of the interior, but surely those were the tones of a man's voice that
struck upon his ear; he advanced more quickly, his steps quite
inaudible on the soft moss of the path, when, just as he was about to
enter the half-closed door, the same voice, which he had continued to
hear, said, in a tone of fervent affection, "Lieschen, dearest
Lieschen----" Wangen turned and positively fled, quite dazzled and
confused by the light that suddenly dawned upon him, and yet filled
with a sense of relief for which he could hardly have accounted to
himself. But what would Bertha say? She must have been mistaken in that
idea of hers with regard to Ernau's affection for herself; yes,
entirely mistaken. And affairs at Osternau must have gone further
between the Candidate and his pupil than any one suspected. Now he came
to think of it, all the evidence of Ernau's sudden passion for Bertha
had been given by Werner von Massenburg, whose word, as his son-in-law
had had frequent opportunities of discovering, was not always to be
received with implicit faith. Really this was a delightful ending of
affairs, for, as for Bertha's opinion of Fraeulein Lieschen, it was all
the consequence of those old Osternau misunderstandings. Never could
he, Hugo von Wangen, believe that the daughter of his kind old friend
was any other than she seemed,--a dear, gentle, unselfish girl. Oh,
Bertha would see it all now, and she could not but rejoice, for the
sake of Clara, for whom she certainly was beginning to care as a sister
should, that Fraeulein Lieschen was to be their neighbour at Plagnitz.
Filled with these thoughts, he reached his home, and sought his wife
where he was sure to find her,--not however, so much bored as usual,
for she was engaged in reading a long letter from her father, which
contained an enclosure for her husband, the contents of which Hugo was
at no loss to divine.
"What have you to tell me, Hugo? your smile is positively beatific. Has
your last purchase of cattle turned out a wonderful bargain, or is the
wheat crop on the east meadow twice as heavy as you supposed it would
be?"
Hugo laughed good-humouredly; he cared nothing for the pin-pricks of
his wife's ridicule. "Oh, better than all that, my darling, although
both your suppositions are correct. Circe has gained possession of her
victim."
"What do you mean? Nothing short of insanity, Hugo, can drive you to
mythology."
"I'm only quoting you, Bertha; when I wish to be convincing I always do
so. Herr von Ernau has found his way over here in spite of the doctor,
and I played eavesdropper involuntarily just now at the door of 'the
master's arbour,' and can assure you that Fraeulein Lieschen will not go
very far away from Linau. For my part I am delighted, and so will you
be, dear child, when you get over the remembrance of old times and your
fancied dislike of Fraeulein Lieschen. Think what an advantage it is to
have such neighbours at Plagnitz! Clara will, I am afraid, spend half
her time there."
Bertha had listened in bewildered dismay to her husband's words. How
had this result, against which she had schemed, been brought about? How
could she endure to have the Lieschen whom she had always detested
carry off the prize which she had failed to win? It was scarcely to be
hoped that a daughter of Werner von Massenburg's should submit with a
good grace to be thus foiled. And yet she was not all worthless. We
must leave her, in hopes that Lieschen's unconscious influence may in
time assert itself here, as it had so often done elsewhere. Frau von
Wangen was assuredly shrewd enough and self-controlled enough, as we
have seen, to be outwardly all that could be desired and quite equal to
the occasion.
What need to tell of the happiness that reigned in future years at
Plagnitz? In Lieschen's joys and in Lieschen's children Frau von
Osternau lived over again her own peaceful existence at Osternau. Egon
had found that for which he had so thirsted; the discontent and folly
of his early time seemed to him like some evil dream, the very memory
of which was dispelled by the clear light of love and truth shining in
his wife's eyes.
THE END.
_PUBLICATIONS OF J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO._
* * * * *
Fiction.
Charlotte Bronte.
Works. Bronte Novels. _Library Edition_. 7 vols. Large crown 8vo, per
set, $10.50.*
Bulwer.
Novels. _Library Edition_. 47 vols. 12mo, cloth, $58.75. _Lord Lytton
Edition_. 25 vols. 12mo, per set, cloth, $31.25.
Charles Dickens.
The Standard Edition of the Works of Charles Dickens. Profusely
Illustrated with Steel Plates. 8vo. Complete sets. 30 vols. Cloth,
$60.00.*
_People's Edition_. 15 vols. Large 12mo. Illustrated by Sol. Eytinge.
Extra cloth, $22.50.
_Diamond Edition_. Complete in 14 vols. Illustrated by Sol. Eytinge.
Per set, cloth, $10.00.
George Eliot.
Complete Works. 20 vols. Cloth, gilt top, $35.00.
Mrs. Forrester.
Dolores. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.
Diana Carew. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.
Mignon. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.
Viva. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.
Rhona. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.
Roy and Viola. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.
My Lord and My Lady. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.
I Have Lived and Loved. 16mo, cloth, $1.00.
June. 16mo, cloth, $1.00.
W. M. Thackeray.
Complete Works. _Library Edition_. Illustrations by the author, Richard
Doyle, and Frederick Walker. Complete in 22 vols. 8vo. Price per set,
English cloth, gilt, $44.00.
_The Globe Edition_. Illustrated. Complete in 12 vols. Crown 8vo, per
vol., $1.25. Per set, $15.00.
_Popular Edition_. Complete in 24 vols. 12mo. Profusely Illustrated.
Per set, cloth extra, $30.00.
_Standard Edition_. Complete in 26 vols. Profusely Illustrated with
Steel Plates and Wood Engravings. Large 8vo, cloth, gilt top. Also in
English cloth style, $3.00 per vol.
George Macdonald.
Malcolm. 8vo, cloth, $1.00.
The Marquis of Lossie. 8vo, cloth, $1.00.
Sir Gibbie. 8vo, cloth, $1.00.
Paul Faber. 8vo, cloth, $1.00.
Misses Warner.
Daisy. A Sequel to Melbourne House. 12mo, cloth, $1.75.
Dollars and Cents. 12mo, cloth, $1.75.
My Brother's Keeper. Cloth, $1.50.
Queechy. 12mo, cloth, $1.75.
Say and Seal. 12mo, cloth, $1.75.
The Hills of the Shatemuc. 12mo, cloth extra, $1.75.
The Wide, Wide World. 12mo, cloth, $1.75.
"Odd Trump" Novels.
The Clifton Picture. 8vo, cloth, $1.25.
The Odd Trump. 8vo, cloth, $1.25.
Harwood. 8vo, cloth, $1.25.
The Lacy Diamonds. 8vo, cloth, $1.25.
Flesh and Spirit. 8vo, cloth, $1.25.
The Ghost of Redbrook. 8vo, cloth, $1.25.
Mrs. E. Lynn Linton.
Patricia Kemball. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.
The Atonement of Leam Dundas. Illustrated. 8vo, cloth, $1.25.
The World Well Lost. Illustrated. 8vo, cloth, $1.25.
Ellen W. Olney.
Love in Idleness. 8vo, cloth, $1.00.
Through Winding Ways. 8vo, cloth, $1.25.
His Heart's Desire. 12mo, cloth, $1.50.
Fairy Gold. Illustrated. 8vo, paper, 40 cents.
Clare and Bebe. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.
Rosa N. Carey.
Wooed and Married. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.
Nellie's Memories. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.
Queenie's Whim. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.
Not Like Other Girls. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.
"Duchess" Novels.
12mo, uniform style, extra cloth, per vol., $1.00.
Phyllis. Mrs. Geoffrey.
Molly Bawn. Portia.
Airy Fairy Lilian. Loeys, Lord Berresford, and
Beauty's Daughters. other Stories.
Faith and Unfaith. Rossmoyne.
Fanny Andrews.
A Family Secret. 8vo, cloth, $1.50.
A Mere Adventurer. 8vo, cloth, $1.25.
Prince Hal; or, The Romance of a Rich Young Man. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.
Capt. Charles King, U.S.A.
The Colonel's Daughter; or, Winning His Spurs. 12mo, cloth, $1.50.
Kitty's Conquest. 16mo, cloth, $1.00.
"Rita's" Novels.
Faustine. 16mo, cloth, $1.00.
Fragoletta. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.
Daphne. 12mo, cloth, $1.00.
Frances Mary Peard.
Castle and Town. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.
Katherine S. Dickey.
Lottie of the Mill. From the German of W. Heimburg. 12mo, cloth, $1.50.
Edward Fuller.
Forever and a Day. 12mo, cloth, $1.50.
J. A. Macon.
Uncle Gabe Tucker. Reflection, Song, and Sentiment in the Quarters.
12mo, cloth, $1.00.
Mary Agnes Tincker.
The Jewel in the Lotos. Illustrated. 12mo, cloth, $1.50.
Mrs. Elizabeth E. Evans.
Laura, an American Girl. 12mo, cloth, $1.50.
Frank Lee Benedict.
The Price She Paid. 12mo, cloth, $1.25.
M. H. Catherwood.
Craque-o'-Doom. 16mo, cloth, $1.25.
Mrs. B. S. Cunningham.
For Honor's Sake. 12mo, cloth, $1.50.
In Sancho Panza's Pit. 12mo, cloth, $1.50.