A SHORT CHAPTER, WITH A FAR GLANCE INTO THE FUTURE.
The Freiherr von Hohenstein sat on the veranda of his villa, puffing
forth clouds of cigar-smoke, and looking down at his daughter, who
stood at the bottom of the veranda steps surrounded by all sorts of
animals. She had apparently just returned from riding, for a long
dark-blue riding-habit clung closely to her pretty figure, and a high
black hat, with a blue veil, sat jauntily upon her curling hair, which,
loosened by her ride, was tumbling picturesquely over her shoulders.
With one hand she was feeding her horse, that still stood beside her,
with sugar, and with the other she was stroking a tame fawn that
nestled close to her. A young Newfoundland, Fidele's successor, was
making clumsy efforts to attract her attention, and the sound of a
shrill whistle, hardly permissible from such rosy lips, and yet not
much out of keeping with Adela's general manner, brought the doves
flying to her from all sides. Suddenly they fluttered away in terror:
the dog began to bark angrily. Adela looked towards the garden-gate,
and then, with a deep blush, ran up the veranda steps to say, "Papa,
papa, it is Walter Eichhof!"
Yes, it was he; and as he offered Adela his hand, and she, still
blushing crimson, cast down her eyes, both knew that neither was angry.
The Freiherr bade his guests welcome. He was now so convinced of his
daughter's infallibility that he had not made the least objection when
Adela had proposed to him to invite her old comrade to visit them,
suggesting that Walter might conduct negotiations for the Freiherr with
some Berlin publisher. Herr von Hohenstein was delighted with this
idea, and, besides, he contemplated reading his work aloud to his
guests; for although they knew nothing of the breeding of horses, yet
they were two human beings who could sit still and listen, and more the
author did not desire.
"I have a letter for you," Dr. Nordstedt said to Adela, after the first
greetings were over. As soon as the girl received it she made it a
pretext for slipping into the house, since, to her surprise, she seemed
suddenly to have lost all her self-possession, and to be unable to take
the satisfaction she had looked for in the visit she had so happily
arranged.
She gave orders for the reception and comfort of her guests, and then
retired to her own room, whence she could overlook the terrace in front
of the house, and could hear Walter's voice through the open window.
There she stood, looking out and listening, with her hands clasped over
her beating heart.
"He has come! he has come!" she thought, exultantly. Then she opened
Alma's letter to glance through it, but the first lines arrested her
attention. What was it? These were strange tidings indeed! This grave
Dr. Nordstedt, for whom Adela entertained an immense respect, loved
Alma Rosen, and had asked her to be his wife. Alma wrote, "Can you
believe, dearest Adela, that he loves me? I seem to myself so little
and silly that it is incredible to me; but it must be true, for he says
so, and it makes me so proud and happy that I could shout for joy. But,
when I think of one who is gone, I no longer rejoice. And so I have
begged Friedrich--you know his name is Friedrich--to be only my friend
for the present, and I have told him why I ask this. And he--oh, he is
the best and noblest man living!--he says he loves me the more for it,
and will wait until I summon him. I have told him that you are my
dearest friend, and that I should write all this to you, that you may
not treat him like a stranger."
Adela stared at the sheet before her in absolute bewilderment. She was
entirely unprepared tor its contents, for she had been far too much
occupied with Walter and herself when in Berlin to have had any time
for observation of Dr. Nordstedt and Alma. "Alma Nordstedt, Frau Dr.
Nordstedt," she whispered, shaking her head; "it sounds very odd!" She
looked very thoughtful, but in an instant her face broke into smiles,
and, alone as she was, she covered her face with her hands to hide her
blushes.
When some hours later she was walking with her guests through the
garden, she broke off an opening rosebud and offered it to Nordstedt.
"Imagine it a greeting from Alma," she whispered, with a smile.
"I thank you," he replied, simply, pressing her offered hand.
Walter stood by. Adela looked up at him, half shyly, half archly, but
there was no rose for him.
Later in the evening, while Nordstedt and the Freiherr were playing a
game of chess, the other two were walking along the same garden-path
and by the same rose-bush.
"You gave me no rose to-day," Walter said, pausing in their stroll.
"From whom did you desire a greeting?" she asked him, mockingly.
"No one sends me any, and I expect none. But I have brought you
something that looks like a greeting from the past. Will you not
receive it as such?"
He held out the ring to her, and told her how it had been found.
"My ring! How strange!" exclaimed Adela. But she did not take it. She
dropped the hand she had extended towards it, and said, half turning
away her head, "The ring does not belong to me. I gave it away."
"You know I cannot keep it?"
"But I wish you to keep it."
Walter was silent for a moment, and then said, gently, "Adela, do you
remember all I told you then?"
She silently assented, and he went on: "My plans and views are nowise
altered; on the contrary, I am more than ever devoted to the profession
I have chosen."
She gave him a sidelong glance. "Yes, I know it," she said; "and in two
years you are to pass your examination."
"Adela, can you tell me that and yet wish me to keep this ring?"
He took her hand, but she withdrew it from his clasp.
"Stay, Herr Doctor _in spe_; if I _do_ refuse to take back the ring,
there is no need for such conduct on your part as we remember on a
former occasion."
"Dearest Adela, I entreat you not to trifle with me. This moment must
decide our future, and if you deceive me now----"
"Good heavens, Walter! I am not deceiving you; I have grown older, and
perhaps a little wiser, but for all that I am only sixteen years old,
and you are still a student, and papa cannot spare me, and you must
work very hard, and--no, stay where you are, please--what I wanted to
say to you was that I thought it terrible that we should both go
through the world so angry with each other, and I could not bear it,
and so I begged papa to ask you here."
Whilst she spoke she had retreated step for step around the rose-bush
as Walter advanced, so that both had now made its entire circuit. Again
he tried to take her hand, but, lithe and swift as a fawn, she placed
the entire bush between herself and her lover, and from her place of
vantage went on: "Stand still there, and I will tell you something.
There was a young officer in Berlin who wanted me to marry him----"
"Adela!"
"Hush! Yes, he wanted me to marry him, and I refused point-blank."
"Adela!"
"Stand still, Walter, or I will leave you. I told him that at present
I would betroth myself to no one, but that when I was eighteen, if any
one should woo me, I never would marry an officer or a lawyer, for that
I had decided if I ever married that it should be a doctor!"
And away she sped to the house, which she was entering just as Walter
reached the foot of the veranda steps.
"Adela! dearest Adela!" he cried.
As he spoke, a fresh dewy rose was tossed into his face, and Adela
vanished, with a laugh, inside the house.