TO WHICH MORE THAN ONE CHARMER CHARMS.
In the parlors, meanwhile, Cecilia formed the center of the group drawn
up around the fireplace. She could be very amiable when she pleased,
and her young sister-in-law was perfectly enchanted by her, while Eric
who, to-day in general, had neither eyes nor ears for any one but his
betrothed, hardly stirred from her side. Only Egbert Runeck took no
part in the conversation. He looked out upon the terrace where those
two gentlemen were engaged in such lively conversation, and then again
his eyes rested upon the young Baroness; but in doing so his brow
contracted almost threateningly.
"No, Eric, you need not try to persuade me that there ever is any
spring here in your fatherland," exclaimed Cecilia laughing. "On the
Riviera flowers have been blooming and diffusing sweet odors for months
past; but since we have crossed the Alps, we have had nothing but
storms and cold. And now, to crown all, this ride to Odensburg!
Everywhere wintry wastes, nothing but the melancholy green of these
everlasting fir-forests, besides mist and clouds and, for a change,
sleety rain! Dear me! how I freeze in your cold, gray Germany."
She shivered, every movement she made, somehow adding charms to her
naïve beauty, and then turned to the fire:
"In your Germany?" repeated Eric with tender reproach in his tone.
"But, Cecilia, it is your Germany as well!"
"Of course it is, but I always have to put myself in mind, before I can
realize that I am actually a child of this hateful North, where I am
such a total stranger. I was hardly eight years old, when my father
died, and two years later I lost my mother also. Then I was carried
first to relations in Austria, and later to Lausanne, where I went to
boarding-school. When I grew up, Oscar took me away, and since then we
have lived mostly in the South. At Rome and Naples, the Riviera and
Florence, in Switzerland, too, we have been a few times, and once in
France. But Germany we have never come near!"
"Poor Cecilia! so you have never had a home!" cried Maia,
compassionately.
Cecilia looked at her in great astonishment; such a life of vanity as
she had led, continually changing both her society and surroundings
seemed to her the only enviable one.
Home! That was quite a novel idea to her. Her eyes took a hasty survey
of the parlor where they sat--yes, indeed, it wore an entirely
different air from the gay and yet commonplace hotel-apartments, in
which she had been living for years.
Those rich dark tapestries and curtains, that oaken furniture, every
piece of which had an artistic value--the family portraits on the
walls, and above all the breath of comfort that pervaded the whole!
But, on the other hand, all this appeared so somber and dark, in the
light of this gray, rainy day--as grave as all the people here, with
the solitary exception of Maia--and the spoilt child of the world
inwardly shuddered at the thought of her bridegroom's "home."
"Do you really and truly spend the largest part of the year here at
Odensburg?" asked she. "It must be very monotonous. You have such a
handsome residence in Berlin, as Eric has told me, and you hardly spend
two months in the winter there. I do not understand it."
"My father think he has no time to move around the world," said Maia,
in a wholly unembarrassed manner--"and I have only been a few times to
the Baths with my aunt and governess. I like it here at Odensburg."
"Maia has not been introduced into society yet," explained Eric. "She
is to come out next winter, for the first time, for she has completed
her seventeenth year. Until now little sister has always had to stay up
in the nursery, even when we had a large reception at home; and as to
city life, she knows nothing of it whatever."
"I went into society when I was sixteen," remarked Cecilia. "Poor Maia,
to think of their keeping you waiting so long--it is incomprehensible?"
The young girl laughed merrily at being the object of such genuine
commiseration.
"Oh, I do not consider that as such a great misfortune, for then I must
'behave' myself as Miss Friedberg calls it, must be so dreadfully prim
and staid, and no longer dance around with Puck--why, Puck! I do
believe you have gone to sleep in broad daylight! Are you not ashamed?
Will you wake up, I say!"
Therewith she rushed to one corner of the parlor, where Puck, greatly
discontented at so little attention being paid him to-day, lay on a
footstool, having yielded himself to the sweetest of slumbers.
Cecilia's lip curled.
"Maia is nothing but a child, sure enough!" said she in an aside to
Eric. "Well, Oscar, has the rain driven you in?"
"Yes, indeed," answered Wildenrod who had just come in. "We have been
inspecting Odensburg, for the present, only from the terrace, but,
Eric, your father has promised to introduce me into his realm within
the next few days."
"Certainly, and Cecilia must get acquainted with it too," chimed in
Eric. "Then we'll drive out, some day, to Radefeld, too, where the
Buchberg is being tunneled." "Egbert," said he, turning to that young
man, who had sat by, a silent listener, "you observe that we are
inviting ourselves to pay you a visit some day."
"I am only afraid that our works will not interest Herr von Wildenrod,"
answered Egbert. "Externally they have very little of interest to show,
and, as for the rest, we have not come to the tunneling yet."
Wildenrod turned to the young engineer, who had of course been
presented to him upon his arrival. He knew through Eric that this
friend of his youth occupied an anomalous position, but his presence
here upon occasion of this exclusively family-party surprised him none
the less, and he knew too how to give expression to this surprise.
Through all the politeness, with which he treated Runeck, there was
ever clearly transparent in his eyes the question: "What business have
you here?"
"You sketched the plan for these works, did you not, Herr Runeck?" he
asked. "Eric has spoken to me about it, and I am glad to make the
acquaintance of so clever an engineer."
The words sounded very obliging, but the "engineer" was emphasized and
thereby the barrier raised that separated the son of the worker in iron
from the family of the millionaire, however much they might see fit to
ignore this at Odensburg. Egbert bowed just as obligingly, while he
replied:
"I have already had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, Herr von
Wildenrod."
"Mine? I do not remember that we ever met before."
"That is comprehensible, for it took place at a large party--three
years ago in Berlin--at the house of Frau von Sarewski."
The Baron pricked up his ears, and fixed his keen eyes searchingly upon
the young engineer, but at the same time a mocking smile played about
his lips.
"And so you saw me there? Really, I would not have expected you to move
in such circles."
"Nor do I, in fact. It was an exceptional case, and I was not there as
a guest, either. Perhaps you may remember the circumstance if I recall
the day to your mind--it was the twentieth of September."
The hand which rested on the back of Cecilia's chair trembled slightly,
and at the same time there flashed from Wildenrod's eyes a glance of
suspicion, that was threatening as well, but it produced no effect upon
the perfectly unmoved features of Runeck. It lasted, indeed, only a
second; then the Baron said carelessly:
"You really expect too much of my memory. I have really been introduced
to so many people traveling about as much as I have done these last ten
years, that I no longer distinguish individuals. What circumstance do
you allude to?"
He spoke with perfect composure, not the slightest change being
perceptible in his features, although those dark gray eyes of his were
fastened fixedly upon Runeck, with an expression of threatening
determination.
"If you have forgotten it, sir, it is hardly worth while to recur to
it," said Egbert coolly. "But your features and individuality impressed
themselves upon me in a manner that I have never forgotten."
"Very flattering to me!" Wildenrod bowed haughtily to the young
engineer, and then turned his back upon him. He proceeded to the other
end of the parlor, where Maia was tugging at the white coat of her pet,
that had by no means taken in good part being suddenly disturbed in its
siesta.
The game was at an end, though, when the Baron came up, and Fräulein
Maia drew herself up, in a way that said plainly she was ready for
battle, for she felt the urgent necessity for having an act of oblivion
cast over her former childish timidity. No opportunity for this had
been given at dinner because Frau von Ringstedt had absorbed the entire
attention of the new family connection who was seated beside her: but
now he was to see that nobody was in the least afraid of him; now she
was fully determined to let him see that she could hold her own.
Alas! Oscar Wildenrod paid no attention whatever to this warlike mood,
he began, in all innocence, to tease, first the little dog, and then
its mistress, and, without any embarrassment whatever, took a place at
her side.
Then he began to chat of all imaginable things, in a half playful, but
uncommonly fascinating manner, that was quite new to the young girl. He
quietly took it for granted that the connection which was so soon to
exist between their families justified him in approaching her with the
freedom of a relation, and he gently and naturally asserted this claim,
and finally set himself seriously to work to gain Puck's friendship,
and was fully successful in the effort.
All this was not without its influence upon Maia, who gradually gave up
standing on the defensive, and became more sociable. She, too, began to
talk now and tell about all sorts of things. The conversation was in
full swing, when Wildenrod suddenly asked, quite irrelevantly:
"So, you are no longer afraid of me?"
"I?" The young lady was disposed to contradict what was said
indignantly, and yet could not hinder the hot blood from mounting to
her cheeks.
"Yes, you, Fräulein Dernburg! I plainly saw it when we exchanged our
first greeting--or will you deny what I say?"
The blush upon Maia's face grew still deeper. He had only seen too
clearly, but she was annoyed at this inconvenient sharp-sightedness on
his part, and thought it very inconsiderate in him thus to take her to
task.
"You are only making sport of me, Herr von Wildenrod!" said she
indignantly.
He smiled, and it was remarkable what an improvement it wrought in his
face. That dark fold between his eyes seemed to smooth down, all the
sharp, stern lineaments softened, and his voice, too, sounded strangely
soft, as he replied:
"Do I really look as if I would make sport of you? Can you really
believe it?"
Maia looked up at him. No, those eyes were not mocking, at least not
now, but again they exerted the same spell over her as they had done
awhile ago, and she was helpless to resist it--and there again was that
inexplicably oppressive sensation. No answer occurred to the young
girl, and she only gently shook her head.
"No?" asked Wildenrod. "Well then, prove to me that the guest who has
arrived to-day does not inspire you with fear by gratifying me in a
request--will you?"
"I must first know what your request is," said Maia, taken captive, and
with a vain attempt at resuming her old petulant tone. Wildenrod
stooped down to her, and his voice sank into a low whisper.
"Everybody here calls you Maia, everybody in this circle has the right
to address you simply by your name, which is the prettiest one in the
world. Even that Herr Runeck has been granted that privilege--only I am
left out in the cold. I am not so bold as to claim the same right as
Cecilia, who uses the sisterly 'thee' when addressing you, but--may I,
too, call you Maia?"
He had taken her hand, as though accidentally. His request was neither
so very presumptuous nor so unusual, the elderly man might certainly be
allowed this freedom in addressing a girl of seventeen, of whose
brother he was soon to be the brother-in-law--nevertheless, Maia
delayed her answer, delayed so long, that he asked reproachfully:
"Do you refuse me?"
"Oh, no, certainly not, you are Cecilia's brother, Herr von Wildenrod."
"Yes, indeed, and Cecilia's brother has another name, which he would
also like to hear called by you, Maia,--my name is Oscar."
No answer followed, but the little hand quivered within his grasp and
tried to free itself, but in vain, he held it fast.
"You will not?"
"I--I cannot!" There was an almost agonized repulse in these words.
Oscar smiled again.
With a gentle pressure he released her hand. Maia! How strangely he
pronounced the name, it was a sound that penetrated the young girl with
a feeling never experienced before, at once sweet and torturing, but
she breathed deeply, as though relieved, when Eric approached and said
playfully:
"I do believe, Oscar, you are slyly paying court to our little Maia."
"For the present I am only paving my way to the intimacy of future
relationship," was the cheerful reply. "Maia has just given me leave to
give up addressing her formally as Miss Dernburg. You have no
objection, I hope."
"Not the least," said Eric, laughing. "You will play the part of uncle
to our little girl, with great dignity, I fancy. Only see to it that
you treat her with all due deference!"
A singular expression flitted across Oscar's features at this harmless
conception, but he made no response to it. Maia had not heard this last
remark, for she had hurried to her father, who had joined the two older
ladies. With an almost impetuous movement, she cuddled up to him, as
though she sought shelter in his arms, shelter from some unknown peril,
that still lay far away in the dim distance, and which, nevertheless,
cast a shadow athwart the glowing present.
Cecilia still sat by the fireside, and Runeck, too, had not left his
place--the "stony guest," as Cecilia had awhile ago styled him in a
whisper to her betrothed. Egbert's silence had indeed been striking, at
least to Eric and Maia, Baron Wildenrod thought it natural enough under
the circumstances. The young man evidently felt out of place in the
circle, to which he did not belong of right, and the favor evinced him
by this invitation evidently oppressed more than it gratified him.
Cecilia fully shared her brother's sentiments on this point, and, like
him, up to this time, she had only taken very casual notice of the
young engineer. And yet it had not escaped her that he was observing
herself; she took this, of course, for admiration, and therefore, in
the most gracious manner, now opened a conversation with him.
"You were already acquainted with my brother, it seems, Herr Runeck?
That is a remarkable coincidence."
"Hardly, in a large city," was the quiet reply. "As for the rest it was
only a very brief interview that we had, of which, as you have heard,
Herr von Wildenrod thought no more."
"I remember myself, he was in Berlin three years ago. He came from
there to Lausanne, to take me away from school, but, I believe, Oscar
is not particularly fond of the Capital. You were there quite a long
while, were you not?"
"Several years. I studied at Berlin."
"Ah, indeed! Well, I shall make acquaintance with it, too, next winter,
at Eric's side. Society must be brilliant there, especially in the
height of the season."
"Alas! I can give you no information on that point," said Egbert
coolly. "I was in Berlin, to study and to work."
"But that does not consume all of one's time?"
"Oh, yes, noble lady, every bit of one's time."
This answer sounded very positive, almost uncouth: it thoroughly
displeased Cecilia, but yet more he displeased her who had given
utterance to it, and whom she took this opportunity of observing
closely for the first time. This friend of Eric's youth was--coldly
considered--anything but attractive in personal appearance. It is true,
that his tall, commanding figure made a certain impression, but it was
not at all suited to the parlor. Add to this, those homely, irregular
features, where everything was stamped with such sharpness and
hardness, and the stiff, disobliging manner, that did not soften even
now, when one was exerting herself to draw him into conversation. Why,
that answer sounded almost as if this Runeck would like to teach a
lesson to her, Baroness Wildenrod! She remarked, to her astonishment,
that here was nothing of timidity and conscious inferiority, and now,
too, she awoke to the fact that it was not admiration which spoke in
those cold, gray eyes, but rather enmity. But what would have chilled,
and perhaps dismayed, any one else, was just the thing that attracted
Cecilia Wildenrod, and so, instead of letting the conversation drop,
she took it up again.
She propped her pretty foot against the fender and leaned far back in
the arm-chair, her attitude being a negligent, but infinitely graceful
one. The late afternoon hour and the dark rain-clouds out of doors had
already produced twilight in this part of the parlor, and the fire,
sometimes flaring up and again dying down, cast its light upon the
slender form that sat there, draped hi a light silk gown, covered with
lace, falling upon the roses that she wore on her bosom, and upon the
beautiful head that was pillowed upon a rich crimson cushion.
"Dear me! how shall I accommodate myself to this Odensburg?" said she
pettishly. "Every third word here is work! They seem, in general, not
to have another idea. I, frivolous worldling that I am, feel quite
intimidated by it and know I shall inevitably fall into disgrace with
my father-in-law-to-be, who is himself a first-class genius of work."
She spoke with an arrogance that challenged reply. It was the tone that
had been deemed piquant and fascinating in the sphere of society in
which she had been accustomed to move. But it made no impression here:
Runeck seemed to be utterly insensible to it.
"Certainly, Herr Dernburg is a model to us all in this respect,"
answered he. "I certainly do not anticipate seeing you contented at
Odensburg, Baroness Wildenrod. But surely, Eric must have given you a
fair picture of it, ere you made up your mind to come here."
"I believe that Eric's taste is the same as mine," remarked Cecilia.
"He likewise loves the joyous, sunny South, and raves of a villa
on the shores of the blue Mediterranean, beneath palm-trees and
laurel-bushes."
"Eric was sick and suffered under the severe climate of his native
land, which, nevertheless, he loves: the South has restored him to
health. As for the rest, he is rich enough to purchase a place anywhere
in Italy that he chooses, and to pass there his time for recreation,
although his regular home must continue to be at Odensburg."
"Do you think that so absolutely necessary?" Slight derision was
perceptible in the tone of her question.
"Most assuredly, for he is the only son, and one day must take charge
of the works. That is a duty which he cannot shirk and of which he as
well as his future wife must render an account."
"Must?" repeated Cecilia. "That seems to be your favorite word, Herr
Runeck. You use it at every opportunity. I cannot bear that
uncomfortable word, and I do not believe I shall ever be reconciled to
it, either."
Egbert seemed to find no special satisfaction in this sort of dialogue,
his reply having a touch of impatience about it, that was entirely too
suggestive of faultfinding.
"We shall do better not to dispute over it. We belong to two entirely
different worlds, and so, naturally, do not understand one another."
Cecilia smiled at having finally moved this man from his imperturbable
equilibrium, which she interpreted to almost as an insult. She had not
been accustomed anyone denying her the toll of admiration, or speaking
of "must," to her. The fire again blazed up brightly, and while Runeck
stood aside in the shade, the reflection fell full upon the beautiful
girl, who still reclined in her chair, in the same attitude as a while
ago. There was something ensnaring in the flickering play of the
flames, in the abrupt transition from light to shade; something that
was akin to the appearance of the girl herself, who now looked up at
the young engineer with moisture dimming the luster of her dark and
glowing eyes.
"Why, there may be a bridge that can unite these two worlds," said she
playfully. "Perhaps we may come to understand each other--or, think you
that it is not worth the trouble?"
"No."
This "no" had a perfectly frigid sound. Cecilia suddenly straightened
herself up and darted a look of withering anger upon Egbert.
"You are very--candid, Herr Runeck."
"You misunderstand me, Baroness Wildenrod," said he calmly. "I meant,
of course, that it was not worth your while to descend to so inferior a
world--nothing more."
Baroness Wildenrod bit her lip. He had parried her thrust in masterly
style, and yet she knew what he had meant, she understood the bitter
taunt, hidden behind his words. What sort of a man was this, that dared
thus to confront the betrothed of his best friend, the future daughter
of the house, in which he had received so many favors? Previously she
had hardly had a glance to bestow upon this engineer in his subordinate
station, now a burning sense of hostility seized her--he was to suffer
for having provoked her!
She arose with a brisk movement and turned to Eric and her brother, who
were talking together. Egbert remained where he was, but his eyes
followed the brother and sister, while he murmured under his breath:
"Poor Eric, you have fallen into bad hands!"
Night had come and the family had already separated. They wanted their
guests--who had made rather a fatiguing journey that day--to retire
early to rest, but this they had not yet done.
In the boudoir, attached to the suite of company-rooms, were Oscar and
Cecilia Wildenrod to be found. They were alone. The perfume of the
flowers with which Maia had given so graceful a welcome to her future
sister-in-law, still filled the room, but neither of this pair paid any
heed to it. Cecilia stood in the center of the room, but the smile that
she had worn and the amiability which she had manifested all day had
both vanished now. She looked excited, provoked, and her voice had the
intonation of suppressed passion.
"And so you are not content with me, Oscar? I should think that I had
done everything possible to be done this day, and still you have fault
to find with me."
"You were too incautious in your expressions," criticised Oscar; "much
too incautious. You hardly took the trouble to conceal your disapproval
of Odensburg. Take heed, Eric's father, is very sensitive on that
point, anything like that he does not pardon."
"Am I, for whole weeks here to act a farce, and pretend to be
enthusiastic over this abominable place, that is far more unbearable
even than I had supposed? One is cut off here and thrust out of the
world, as it were, buried between mountains and dark forests. Then the
immediate proximity of those works with their noise and their crowd of
coarse laborers, but above all these people here! Little Maia is the
only one endurable. My future father-in-law, though, seems to have a
very domineering nature, and tyrannizes over his whole household. I
shudder before his stern countenance. What a look he gave me upon my
arrival, as though he wanted to look me through and through. And that
tiresome Frau von Ringstedt with her prim state, and that just as
stupid pale-looking governess--but, above all, that so-called friend of
Eric's youth, who said things to me--" she suddenly broke off, and with
a pettish movement threw her fan upon the table. Wildenrod had quietly
listened to all this harangue, without making any attempt to soothe
her, at those last words, however, he grew attentive.
"What things?" he asked quickly and sharply. "What did he say to you?"
"Oh, not so much in words, but I knew perfectly well what was implied,
although not expressed. If we had not just met for the first time, I
should believe that he hated both you and me. There was something so
inimical in his cold, steel-gray eyes, when he talked to me and they
had precisely the same expression when he mentioned, to you, your
having met in Berlin."
Wildenrod gazed upon his sister in surprise, he had never before
perceived that she was gifted with such keen powers of observation.
"You seem to have been studying him very closely," he remarked. "As for
the rest, you have judged quite correctly. This Runeck is extremely
disagreeable, perhaps even dangerous. We'll be even with him though."
"Once for all, I cannot stand such surroundings!" cried Cecilia with
renewed heat. "You have always told me that Eric would live with me in
the great world, we have never had any other idea, but here there seems
to be no talk of any such thing. They regard it as a matter of course
that we should take up our residence at Odensburg, and have ruthlessly
made the announcement to me already. Upon my marriage, am I to renounce
everything that lends life its charm for me, and under the oversight of
my high-and-mighty father-in-law, learn housekeeping and all the other
domestic virtues that he seems to rate so high, and for my reward to be
allowed a daily promenade through his works? For there seems to be no
talk here of any other pleasure."
"The question is not one of pleasure but necessity," said Oscar in a
low sharp tone: "I thought I had made that sufficiently clear to you
when we accepted the invitation. Already, on the day of your
engagement, you forced me to give you a hint of the truth, that I would
have preferred to conceal from you, and since then you have learned all
without reserve. Our fortune has been all lost, how and when does not
concern you, but what you have to deal with is the fact. I have
hitherto managed to maintain ourselves in handsome style, through what
sacrifices I alone know; but there comes a time when even the last
resources fail, and to that point we have now arrived. If you cast
away, through your own folly, the brilliant future that I have opened
up to you by tying this knot, know that you will no longer have any
pretension to what you call life: then you must descend to an existence
of poverty and privation--must I once more recall this to your mind?"
This harsh exhortation had its effect: poverty and privation were two
things from which Baroness Wildenrod shrank, although she had only a
misty idea of what they were. Already the bare idea that she might be
forced to give up the brilliant life that she had hitherto led
horrified her, and broke down her resistance. She bowed her head and
was silent, while her brother continued:
"I have hitherto treated you, for the most part, as they do spoiled
children, not deeming it needful to show you the serious phase of life;
but now I require--do you hear, Cecilia, I _require_--that you submit
absolutely to my will, and do as I shall direct. You are not married
yet, and Dernburg is just the man to break the engagement at the last
minute, if there should arise in his mind grave doubts as to its
expediency. You have to cultivate his favor first of all, for Eric is
altogether passive in his disposition, and will always submit to his
father's will. It is all-important to be prudent! Be assured of one
thing--_my_ plans are not to be thwarted through your self-will--you
know me!"
This was a tone of command, of menace, and Cecilia looked up at her
brother with shy eyes. It was not the first time, that he had bent her
under his will, but so earnestly and darkly he had never spoken to her
before. She heaved an impatient sigh and threw herself into a chair;
but she did not think of making any further opposition.
The pause of a second ensued, when Oscar stepped up to her, and his
voice was milder as he said:
"How you do allow yourself to be carried away by your feelings! Other
girls would give anything in the world to change places with you;
thousands at this moment, are envying your fate, while you are disposed
to throw away your good fortune, like a toy that did not please
you--yours is not a calculating nature."
"But you are!" said Cecilia, in an angry and embittered tone.
"I?" Again Wildenrod's face darkened. "I am and have been many a thing
that my spirit revolted against. He who has battled with the waves of
life for twelve long years, like myself, knows only one watchword. Stay
on top, at any price! Thank God, that you have been spared this battle,
and thank me for landing you safe on shore ere you knew of the perils
to which you were exposed. You are to enter a highly-respected family,
your marriage will give you a right to almost countless wealth, and
your future husband knows no greater happiness than to gratify your
wishes--I think that is enough."
"And what will you do when I am married?" asked Cecilia, struck by his
words, that she only half understood.
"Commit that to me!" A fleeting smile flashed across Oscar's features.
"At all events, I do not intend to live on my rich sister's charity,
for I was not made for such a fate--Now, good-night, child; you will be
more prudent in future, and never let a hint drop of Odensburg not
being to your mind. I hope you will need no second lecture."
He lightly touched her brow with his lips and passed into his own
chamber that adjoined the boudoir. Out of doors it was already dark,
and the Manor was wrapt in silence and gloom, only a candle glimmering
here and there in the rooms of individuals. The wind had lulled, and
profound quiet reigned in the immediate environs.
But over yonder at the works there was still astir that mighty
throbbing life, that rested not fully, even during the night, and if by
day it was heard only in occasional, far-away sounds, now every noise
made there was distinctly heard. At times there was a great glare of
light from the blazing forges, while here and there one of the huge
chimneys sent up a flashing spark to the starless sky, and there where
the furnaces lay, the vaporous wreaths of smoke were reddened by the
glow of the fire. It was a sublime and fascinating spectacle.
Oscar Wildenrod seemed to find it so, too, for he stood long at the
window and gazed out. The admiration that he had expressed in the
afternoon had not been assumed. His breast heaved with the deep breath
he drew, and he said in an undertone:
"To be the lord and master of such a world--to move thousands by a
single word of power! How that man stood on the threshold of his own
house when he received us--like a prince and ruler, and such in fact he
is. Success no longer intoxicates him--me it will intoxicate."
He drew himself up, proudly, to his full height, but all of a sudden a
more tender expression rested upon his features, while he continued
almost inaudibly:
"What a sweet pretty child that Maia is! So pure, so untouched by any
shadow--and to the hand of that child is attached the other half of
this power and this wealth."
He opened the window and leaned far out; restless, ambitious thoughts
were working in the soul of this man, while he looked down upon the
vast establishment at his feet. The rash gambler was not satisfied with
his one lucky stroke, he was making ready for a second which was to be
his master-stroke. Oscar von Wildenrod was not indeed made to live upon
the bounty of his sister.
Cecilia, too, had not yet gone to rest, but, nestling among the
cushions of an arm-chair, still sat motionless in the same spot that
her brother had left her. She had taken the roses from her bosom and
was heedlessly pulling them to pieces. They had been a present from
Eric; he had welcomed her with them upon her arrival. Magnificent, pale
yellow roses to remind her of their betrothal-day, when she had worn
these same flowers. The withered leaves showered down upon her gown and
upon the floor, but the intended bride heeded them not; she gazed into
space like one lost in dreams. Evidently the visions that haunted
her were of no friendly nature. Upon her forehead between those
finely-arched eyebrows, there was again that fold, the significant
feature which she had in common with her brother, and there, too, were
his eyes that looked from her countenance--at this minute, it was easy
to see that the two were of one blood.