Part 49 (1/2)

The large eyes of the lady rested with cold indifference upon the old woman, whose eyes were turned to her with the tenderest expression. ”I thank you,” she said, coldly. ”Husband! I beg you to give me your arm.”

Proudly she pa.s.sed the statuary, and over the soft carpets without comment, or even a word for old Trude.

The steward and housekeeper followed the silent couple.

”Shall I take you to your room first?” asked Ebenstreit, ”or will you do me the pleasure to look at the newly-arranged drawing-rooms?”

”Certainly,” she replied, with indifference. ”We will first look at the drawing-rooms, as we shall probably receive much company this winter, and they are of the first importance. You know that I dislike solitude.”

”Indeed, I recall that we are very seldom alone!” sighed her husband.

”It would be fearful if we were,” replied his wife, with marked indifference.

The steward just now opened the little door of the ante-room, sparkling with chandeliers and mirrors. ”Ah! this is really beautiful, and well chosen,” cried Ebenstreit, looking about with an air of great pride and satisfaction. ”Tell me, Marie, is it not worthy of you?”

Glancing coldly around, she replied: ”It does not please at all. The furniture is very costly, and reminds one of the parvenu. Every thing recalls the riches of the newly-t.i.tled banker.”

Her husband's brow contracted, but he did not trust himself to contest his dissatisfaction with his cold, proud wife, but sought another vent for it.

”You are very unkind, Marie. Have the goodness to tell me how you, with these severe ideas, can suffer that Trude for a moment should appear before us in this poor-looking dress which, indeed, does not recall any wealth!”

Frau von Ebenstreit's eyes glanced quickly over the old who, she said, was the only object which did not bespeak the gaudiness of newly-acquired wealth, but she appeared as the respectable servant of an old and n.o.ble family in fitting dress. ”Remain as you are, Trude, and do not let yourself be misled by our follies! I--but what is that I see?”

she cried as the steward opened the next door at the silent nod of her husband.

”Oh, my beloved children, there you are at last; after three years'

absence I have the happiness to embrace you, my only daughter,” cried Frau von Werrig, as she approached them with outstretched arms and an affectionate smile, essaying to throw her arms around Marie's neck, who waved her back.

”My child, my child,” whimpered the mother, ”is it possible that my daughter can receive me thus after so long a separation?”

Turning to Trude, Marie asked her, with a reproving look and tone, if she had received her letter, or if she had forgotten her express commands that no one but the servants should be in the house to receive them.

”I did not forget it, my lady, and I have read the orders to Frau von Werrig, but she--”

”Knew that this wish had no reference to her, as she is her mother--Tell me, my beloved son, is it not very natural and fitting that I should be here to receive you?'

”I find it a matter of course,” answered Von Ebenstreit, to whom it appeared a relief to find an ally in the mother against his proud and beautiful wife. ”I rejoice to see our dear mother here, and I beg Marie will join me.”

Marie cast an angry glance toward her husband, which so confused and perplexed him, that he looked down. Then advancing toward the drawing-room, with her usual cold demeanor, without further comment upon the ostentatious furniture, she commanded her husband to follow, who obeyed, giving his arm to his mother-in-law.

”Oh, this is glorious!” he cried, smiling. ”What splendor, what luxury!

Tell me, my dear mother, is not this beautiful reception-room very aristocratically and appropriately fitted up?”

”I should think a princess or a queen might be satisfied with it,” she cried, with enthusiasm. ”Even in royal palaces there is nothing of the kind to compare to this gold-embroidered tapestry.”

”Baron,” said Marie, commandingly, ”have the kindness to dismiss the steward. I wish to speak with you and Frau von Werrig.”

The steward slipped out without waiting to be sent, and Trude stood near the door, turning to the young baroness, as if to ask if she might remain.

”Did you not hear, Trude?” cried the mother, impatiently. ”Tell her to go!”

”Remain, Trude,” said Marie, quietly. ”You are familiar with the past. I have nothing to deny to you; shut the door and stay here.--And now,”