Part 33 (1/2)

'You think that where marriage is concerned, n.o.body but a woman has a right to speak. I will show you that I know what I am about. Count Oswald sets great store by my opinion.'

'I have not a doubt of it, on this subject more than on any other. I am convinced even that he will not marry without previously seeking your consent and approbation. You need not put yourself in a pa.s.sion, Erich. I mean what I say--and there! why, there is the Count's carriage just turning into the courtyard. I knew very well he would be over here to-day.'

'How could you know that?' asked Rustow, still angry at her supposed sarcasm. 'You have taken no interest whatever in my new steam-engine.'

'What steam-engine?'

'A new and most practical invention which I had down from town a little while ago. You were indifferent as usual. It failed to rouse your interest, but the Count, to whom I was explaining all the details when we met at the station the other day, is burning with desire to examine it.'

The old lady seemed to have her own ideas on the subject of this punctuality and burning zeal. She shrugged her shoulders significantly, as the Councillor hurried eagerly away to receive his visitor, in whose company he returned a few minutes later.

No striking change had taken place in Oswald's outward appearance, yet it produced an impression quite different from that of former days.

With the pressure of untoward circ.u.mstances, with the fruitless, constant struggle against a galling chain, the bitterness of spirit had disappeared which once threatened to gain complete dominion over his proud and sensitive nature. Freedom and a new sense of personal importance had given him fuller development. The harsh expression had vanished from his features, the former coldness and abruptness from his speech and demeanour. He was not indeed possessed of that frank charm of manner with which Edmund had conquered all hearts, but his grave superior calm, his simple and yet imposing mien, showed that the present owner of Ettersberg was better fitted to rule and to command than his deceased cousin ever could have been. The Count, on this occasion, came of course solely and entirely to see the famous steam-engine, and to judge by a certain perturbed restlessness which he sought in vain to conceal, his interest in the useful invention must have been of an intense and all-absorbing character. Yet he listened with rather an absent air to the Councillor's florid description of his new treasure, and kept his eyes fixed on the door.

He appeared to be momentarily expecting something, or some one; at length his patience gave way, and, turning to Aunt Lina, he observed in the most innocent and natural tone in the world:

'Fraulein Hedwig is out in the park, I suppose. I fancied I caught sight of her as I drove through.'

The old lady cast at him a glance which plainly said, 'If you had fancied that, you would not be herewith us now;' but aloud she replied, with an innocent simplicity equal to his own:

'I think you are mistaken. Count. My niece, I regret to say, has gone out to take a walk, probably to revisit some of the favourite old haunts which she has not yet seen since she came home.'

'Her favourite haunts!' The hint was sufficient for Count Oswald. He suddenly discovered that he had very little time at his disposal, and was bound to return to Ettersberg with all speed, but this availed him little. Rustow took it as a fresh compliment to the steam-engine that, notwithstanding the urgent calls upon his time, his guest had come over to inspect and admire it. Inexorably he dragged him forth.

Oswald had to listen long to all the detailed explanations of this enthusiastic farmer, though in his impatience the ground on which he stood seemed to scorch his feet. At length he succeeded in getting free, and leaving the Councillor with a hurried good-bye, jumped into the carriage, which was waiting for him, and drove away.

Rustow returned to the house a little put out at the unusual shortness and hasty nature of the visit vouchsafed him.

'There was nothing to be done with the Count to-day,' he said to his cousin. 'He seemed quite absent in his manner, and hardly looked at the engine, after all. Now he is rus.h.i.+ng back to Ettersberg like the wind. It really was not worth while to come so far for such a flying visit.'

'It was too bad of you to torment him in that way,' remarked Aunt Lina, with sly malice. 'A full quarter of an hour you kept him standing there by your tiresome old steam-engine! He did not come to see that, bless you! and he is not driving back to Ettersberg now--not a bit of it, no more than I am!'

'Where in the world is he, then?' asked Rustow, who was so overcome by these a.s.sertions that he overlooked the insulting word 'tiresome,'

applied to his steam-engine.

'Very probably he is not driving at all. I dare say he has sent his carriage on into the village, and is taking a walk in the woods, or on the hills, or somewhere about. How can I tell in what direction Hedwig may be strolling?'

'Hedwig? What do you mean? You don't intend to say----'

'I intend to say that Hedwig is destined to become Countess Ettersberg, and that this time nothing can or will prevent it--depend upon it, I am right.'

'Lina, I really do believe you are going crazy,' exclaimed Rustow.

'Why, they never could endure each other! They have been separated now for more than a year. In fact, since Edmund's death, they have only met about half a dozen times at the Countess's house at Schonfeld. It is impossible, absolutely impossible. This is just another of your foolish romantic notions.'

'Well, wait until they both come back,' said Aunt Lina emphatically.

'But in the meantime you may make up your mind to give the paternal benediction, for, rely upon it, it will be required of you. Count Oswald will hardly care to lose more time now, and certainly he has waited long enough. I think it was an overstrained feeling of delicacy on Hedwig's part which made her leave her home and father, just to prevent any earlier appeal from that quarter.'

'What? That is why she went to Italy with the Countess?' cried Rustow, falling, as it were, from the clouds, 'You don't mean to pretend that this fancy existed during Edmund's lifetime?'

'This is no question of a mere fancy,' replied his cousin instructively; 'but of an ardent, unconquerable attachment which has, no doubt, cost them both much pain and many struggles. Hedwig, it is true, has never alluded to the subject by so much as a word. She has obstinately kept her confidence from me, but I could see how she was suffering, how hard it was to her to fulfil the promise which, without reflection, without full knowledge of her own heart, she had given to another. I do not doubt that she would have fulfilled it, but what the future consequences might have been both to herself and Oswald--that Heaven only knows!'