Part 35 (1/2)

He knew Lato well, the paralyzing weakness, as well as the subtile refinement, of his nature. Stern principle, a strict sense of duty, he lacked: how could it be otherwise, with such early training as had been his? Instead, however, he possessed an innate sense of moral beauty which must save him from moral degradation.

”A young girl, one of his home circle!” Harry murmured to himself. ”No, it is inconceivable! And, yet, what can come of it?” And a sobbing breeze, carrying with it the scent of languid roses from whose cups it had drunk up the dew, rustled among the thirsty branches overhead with a sound that seemed to the young fellow like the chuckle of an exultant fiend.

CHAPTER XXIII.

ZDENA TO THE RESCUE.

But Harry ceases to muse, for the shrill clang of the bell summons him to supper. He finds the entire family a.s.sembled in the dining-room when he enters. All are laughing and talking, even Zdena, who is allowing handsome, precocious Vladimir to make love to her after more and more startling fas.h.i.+on. She informs Harry that Vips has just made her a proposal of marriage, which disparity of age alone prevents her from accepting, for in fact she is devoted to the lad.

”I renounce you from a sense of duty, Vips,” she a.s.sures the young gentleman, gently pa.s.sing her delicate forefinger over his smooth brown cheek, whereupon Vips flushes up and exclaims,--

”If you won't have me, at least promise me that I shall be best man at your wedding!”

Harry laughs heartily. ”What an alternative! Either bridegroom or best man!”

”But you will promise me, Zdena, won't you?” the boy persists.

”It depends upon whom I marry,” Zdena replies, with dignity. ”The bridegroom will have a word to say upon the subject.” As she speaks, her eyes encounter Harry's; she drops them instantly, her cheeks flush, and she pauses in confusion.

As she takes her place at table, she finds a letter beside her plate, post-marked Bayreuth, and sealed with a huge coat-of-arms. Evidently startled, she slips it into her pocket unopened.

”From whom?” asks Heda, whose curiosity is always on the alert.

”From--from Bayreuth.”

”From Aunt Rosa?”

Zdena makes no reply.

”From Wenkendorf?” Harry asks, crossly.

The blood rushes to her cheeks. ”Yes,” she murmurs.

”How interesting!” Heda exclaims. ”I really should like to hear his views as to the musical mysteries in Bayreuth. Read the letter aloud to us.”

”Oh, it is sure to be tiresome,” Zdena replies, heaping her plate with potatoes in her confusion.

”I wish you a good appet.i.te!” Vladimir exclaims.

Zdena looks in dismay at the potatoes piled upon her plate.

”At least open the letter,” says Heda.

”Open it, pray!” Harry repeats.

Mechanically Zdena obeys, breaks the seal, and hastily looks through the letter. Her cheeks grow redder and redder, her hands tremble.

”Come, read it to us.”