Part 6 (1/2)
”Oh, dear! now you are beginning too. I meant to say, will you really go to Dollan?”
”I must do so now, even if I were not obliged to go on account of the picture.”
”Why?”
”To restore my faith in mankind, at least the part most important to me, myself,” replied Gotthold, with a smile, whose derision did not escape Herr Wollnow.
”I am very much displeased with you,” said the latter, as he re-entered the dining-room, after accompanying Gotthold to the door.
”With me?”
”What must the man think of me? What a meddlesome awkward fellow he must consider me. It is a real piece of good fortune that I went no farther.”
”But what have I done?”
”Why did you never tell me this famous narrative of your youth, from which it is very evident that he loved and probably still loves your friend Cecilia, as you call her, although I have never seen anything of the friends.h.i.+p.”
”Do you really think so?” exclaimed Fran Wollnow, starting up and throwing her arms around her husband; ”do you really think so? Did he tell you so?”
In spite of his vexation, Herr Wollnow could not help laughing.
”I should probably be the last person whom he would choose for his confidant, especially now, after I, stupid oaf, have been hammering away upon this subject for the last hour.”
”On this subject? I really don't understand you, Emil.”
”Don't understand me! Gracious, you clever soul! How difficult it is for women to see their way in matters they proudly condescend to consider their own. Don't understand me? Well, I can a.s.sure you that yonder enthusiast understood you perfectly, and will be on his way to Dollan early to-morrow morning.”
”Well, I can't see any particular harm in that,” said Frau Wollnow.
”Why should not those two meet again, after so many years, even if they really do still love each other? I will give poor Cecilia the pleasure with all my heart--she needs consolation so much.”
”As much as her worthy husband needs money. Day after to-morrow is the last day of grace for his note of five thousand thalers which is deposited with me. Perhaps he will help both: he has the means to do so.”
”Oh! Emil, your everlasting prose is unbearable.”
”I never promised you that you would find me a poet.”
”Heaven knows that.”
”It would be better for me if you knew it.”
”Emil!”
”I beg your pardon. I am really so much annoyed that I can't help being spiteful. But that conies of meddling with other people's affairs. Let the fools do as they please, and come to bed.”
CHAPTER V.
When, after a night of torturing restlessness, Gotthold suddenly awoke from his heavy morning sleep, the sun had already been s.h.i.+ning through the white lace curtains of his chamber for several hours. ”Thank G.o.d,”
he said aloud, ”morning has come, and with the morning everything will doubtless look brighter.”