"If, therefore, I do not reveal everything to him at present--and, by
the by, there is no need for it yet--I am not acting dishonestly, but
in everybody's interest. You will grant me this much."
"To be sure," replied Bertram. "I only fear you will not be able to
continue this profitable silence for any length of time. For any
day it may happen that the young people come to an understanding,
and--to-morrow, perhaps, or this very day--they may come and ask for
your blessing."
"It would kill me!"
"It would, anyhow, be extremely awkward! Therefore, I beg to make the
following proposal to you. I am already authorised by your wife to
sound Erna; I now ask you to give me the same commission; and you will
tell your wife that you have spoken to me about it. Thus you will both
have placed the matter into my hands as it were. Now I shall find Erna
either distinctly favourable to your plan, or else distinctly
unfavourable, or undecided. In the latter case, I will try to confirm
her in that state of mind; and would prove to your wife that to advance
with inconsiderate rashness must needs be risking, and, probably,
spoiling everything. But even if Erna, really loves the Baron, or, on
the other hand, if she is satisfied in her own mind that he is not the
man who corresponds to her ideal--all girls create such an ideal for
themselves--well, I think I have influence enough with her--or, in case
of need, I possess diplomatic talent enough, to get the ultimate
decision put off one way or the other. For how long--we shall judge by
and by, once you and I are so far agreed."
"My dear boy, I put myself entirely in your hands. I'll not take a step
without you. Gracious me--what a lucky thing that you have come! I do
not know what would have become of me, and of the whole business."
He shook and pressed both his friend's hands in the excess of his
gratitude, looked upon his situation already in a much more hopeful
light, turned the conversation again to the new railway and to the
stupendous chances which would come to him in case the decision was
favourable, and that it would be so, he suddenly assumed to be
probable, nay, certain. He never noticed that Bertram had made the
little carriage turn which was waiting for them at the end of the wood,
and that now they were driving back the way they had come. The
suggested inspection of the factory had only been a pretext for having
an undisturbed hour with Bertram.
His friend was now sitting in silence by his side. Otto kept on talking
to him, lowering his voice on account of the driver's presence. Bertram
hardly heard what he said. He hardly saw, either--or if he saw, it was
like in a dream--the golden lights flash down through the top of the
giant firs, and play around the brown stems and along the mossy ground;
he saw but as in a dream the lovely vistas which opened here and there,
giving glimpses of loveliest landscape beauty in the valley far below.
His busy mind was working and modelling away at the part in the family
drama which had, after all, been forced upon him, and which he had not
dared to decline--for Erna's sake.