«:C LY PRIDE RDLLOPE v!-' J li\cC:^' BHapl K ^1 Kit &^^ iOHDON: GHAPNU HALL 193 PICCADILI /» THE SELECT LIBEARY OE EIOTIOI. PRICE TWO SHILLINGS EACH. THE ] By Auth( "The ' enriched • Bachelor c meet will News. THE I By tlie A " ' The author of one of th domestic 1 'Agatha's published ri or in art) THE By the . Famil) " The t with deep noble am giving for: evinces at tion, anc character life-like ■ she want serious vi directed \ MLIN By Autl: "The introduction of this novel into the publishers' ' Select Library of Fic- tion' is judicious and well-timed. It is one of the best the author has ever written, and has long ago obtained a re- pute which its present appearance will only serve to enhance." — Bell's Messenger. l. [amesJ[.-Qraff, Baltimore. rton ' has aled to the nuine pic- md has led rest to any ;r genius, icession of lonourable the great The pre- character. unexagge- skill, and pure and )jects seem V earnestly d, and to Bcacy of a harity in v."—Morn- uthor of 1, genuine, rison, Mr. maturest . and last- ound in its ad Bubtle, LY; or, atirical slor of the le Curate." " A vein of genuine comedy runs la- vishly through every page." — Morning Chron icle. " His delineation of the Falcon brood living at the expense of all with whom they claim acquaintance, is a family pic- ture worthy of Hogarth." — Athenceum. London: Chapman & Hall; and at all Railway ^ <^/ ^■ THE SELECT LIBEAUY OP EICTIOI. PRICE TWO SHILLtNGS EACH. THE WHITEEOY. A Story of Ireland in 1822. By Mrs. S. C. Hall. "Full of vivid descriptions, life-like sketclies of character, dashes of genuine Irish humour, with occasionally scenes exhibiting the strong passions and affec- tions of the Iris.il people, drawn with exceeding energy and power." — Atlas. " Indisputably Mrs. Hail's best novel." Aihenceum. LIZZIE LEiaH. By Author of " Mary Barton," &c. " Most of the tales which comprise this pleasant volume have already appeared in Household Words, and will probably be familiar to our readers. Verily, Mrs. GaskiU 1? a first-rate story-teller; a little wa.uv^?£* ■>•- i::::affination, incapable, per- chance, of depicms *he higher and finer order of characters, bnb full of vigour and truthfulness in her own sphere, with a clear and searching knowledge of the men and women who pass before her in daily life, and who are happily transferred to her canvas with a quiet and genial hu- mour." MT OTCLE THE CTJEATE. By Author of " The Bachelor of the Albany," & " Ihe Falcon Family." " An amusing and instructive tale, abundantly illustrative of Irish manners, and written in a lively dashing style." — John Bull, " The publication of the book is oppor- tune. It is, in effect, a sermon, witty and wise as one of Sterne's, on the moral of the rate in aid. The author has seen as well as read much, and the tastes of the scholar, most agreeable when corrected by the experience of the world, give a pecu- liar charm to his writings." — Examiner. "In genial, good-natured satire, we think he has now hardly an equal." — Daily Xews, THE KII&HT OF GWYNNE : A Tale of the Time of the Unien. By Charles Lever. 2 vols. ''• The ' Knight of Gwynne ' is certainly one of the most loveable characters that Mr. Lever has ever dra\vn ; and he mono- polizes so much of our sympathy, that we hope to be forgiven for extending less of it than he probably deserves to Bagenal Daley, notwithstanding the vigour with which that character is drawn, the re- markable originality of it, and the fidelity with which it represents and sustains a most peculiar combination of qualities, intellectual as well as moral." — Black' wood's Magazine. EOLAND CASHEL. By Charles Lever. 2 vols. " Mr. Lever is the prince of * Neck-or- Nothiug' novelists! We used to think that for intrepidity in clearing the hedges and ditches, — the boundaries and gaps, — of a story, there was no one like poor Captain Marryat ; but, of the two, Mr. Lever has the easier seat, and the more adroit bridle- hand. Little can those who have run through the numbers of ' Roland Cashel ' before us, divine what manner of headlong leaps and frantic gallops they may be compelled to take, ere they come in at the 'death' of the plot, and (let us hope) the marriage of the hero." — Aihenceum. OLIYE. A ITovel. By Author of " The Ogilvies," &c. " It is a common cant of criticism to call every historical novel the ' best that has been produced since Scott,' and to bring 'Jane Eyre' on the tapis whenever a woman's novel happens to be in ques- tion. In despite thereof we will say that no novel published since ' Jane Eyre ' has taken such a hold of us as this ' Olive,' though it does not equal that story in originality and in intensity of interest. It is written with eloquence and power." — Review. London: Chapman & Hall; and at all Railway Bookstalls. GERTRUDE 5 en, EAMILY PEIDE. Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive in 2009 with funding from Duke University Libraries http://www.arcliive.org/details/gertrudeorfamilyOOtrol GERTRUDE; OE, FAMILY PEIDE. BY IIES. TROLLOPE, author of the life and advextures of a clea'er wojiax," " ilrs. mathe^ys,' "widow barnaby," etc., etc. LONDOX: CHAPMAN AND HALL, 103, PICCADILLY. 1864. T2ffei G E Pt T E IJ D E . CHAPTER I. In sitting oneself down to tlie somewhat idle occupation of " Old tales telling of loves long ago," it is mneh. safer, for many reasons, to give fictitious names to the various scenes in which the circumstances occurred, than to challenge the criticism which might discover either to much, or too little of truth in the details, were the real names to he given. Most of the circumstances upon which the following story is founded, occurred in Germany, and it is therefore to Germany that I will beg my reader to follow me. It was upon a very fine morning in the month of June, that two individuals, who are the first of my dramatis personoe to be presented to him, might have been seen climbing steadily and perseveringly, but at no very rapid pace, the steep hill which overhangs the pretty little town to which I shall give the name of Hindsdorf, These two travellers were neither mounted knights ''pricking o'er the plain," or the hill either; nor had they, in truth, the appearance of belonging to any station to which the act of walk- ing was not likely to be the ordinary mode of conveyance along any highways, or bye-ways, by which it might be necessary for them to travel. But, nevertheless, few could have looked at them steadily for one moment without feeling inclined to bestow a second, for the purpose of looking at them again ; for both were very decidedly well-looking, and being male and female, it would have been difficult not to believe that the earnestness with which they were 2 gerteude; oe, conversing, and the deep attention witli which each looked at, and listened to, the other, proceeded from that tender passion which is universally considered as heing particularly interest- ing. Both were in the earliest bright perfection of adult comeliness, hut the gud looked somewhat the elder of the two. This was not the case, however, for the young man was three years her senior ; but being, as Eosalind says of herself, "more than common tall," and having, moreover, a remarkably firm step, and upright car- riage, the girl looked considerably older than she was. The dress of both was scrupulously neat, but shewed no pretension beyond the Sunday garb of decent, well-conditioned peasants. If examined by a critical eye, however, the young man might have been suspected to be of a higher class than his companion, for his linen was of a finer fabric than the most gala attire is thought to render necessary among persons of the rank to which it seemed evident that he belonged. Any one within reach of hearing, as well as seeing them, as they pursued their way, would have discovered that there was a difference of opinion between them, or some very interesting point which they were discussing, notwithstanding the air of love and devotion which each seemed to feel for the other. *'Fear nothing, my dear friend! " said the beautiful, tall, up- right girl, as she stepped firmly and actively on beside her companion; ''fear neither harshness, nor difficulty of any kind, from the venerable man we are about to visit. All will go smoothly with us, depend upon it." • And then, after the silence of a moment, she added, the words however, being tempered by a most lovely smile, " jS'ay ! I will turn round, and run away ! I will indeed, if you permit yourself to be thus overpowered by terror. AYhy, your arm positively trembles I" *' And can you wonder it should tremble ?" he replied, looking at her almost reproachfully. " Oh ! do you not tremble too ! " "N^ay, take my hand, and hold it steadily," she replied, laugh- ingly. " Do you find any sympton of trembling, my good man ?" "Surely, surely, you cannot love me as I love you, or you could not be thus brave at contemplating the possibility of our being parted for ever ! " he answered, in a voice of deep emotion, as he pressed the hand she placed in his. "But I contemplate no such possibility," she replied; adding, in a firm but gentle voice, well calculated to sootiie the feelings which she affected to chide, "I contemx^latc nothing but the FAMILY PEIDE. 3 returning with you along this self-same path within an hour or so, as your wedded wife ; and I see nothing in that at all likely to make me tremble." The young man only answered these cheering words by a pas- sionate caress, and then they pursued their way in silence for a minute or two. Eut this silence was again soon broken by him, for, in a tone which sounded a little as if he were relapsing into the fears for which he had been chidden, he ventured to whisper, " Lut if this piiest should declare that he would not marry us ? If he slwidd say that it was his duty to be assiu'ed of the consent of our parents and friends?" '*^Yhy, in that case, my good man," returned his still smil- ing companion, "in that case, we must take our leave of him very respectfully^ and betake oui'selves and our wedding-fee to another." ",Eut do you not rest too much hope and faith upon that large wedding-fee, dearest?" said the youth, shaking his head. "It is possible I may," she replied; "but till experience teaches me the contrary, I am strong, very strong, in the faith and hope which the amount of it inspires. They say, that is, the worldly-wise, of coui'se ; but the worldly-wise do say that the priesthood ^of the present day) have a great respect for money. Perhaps they think that the possession of it may enable them to do much good. And they are right there, my friend. Money is certainly a powerful agent, either for good or evil, as the case may be. If he be a reasoning, right-thinking man, he cannot fail to perceive, from the amount of the sum we are about to offer him, that the attachment between us is a very true one. It must be a rare thing for people of our station to offer so large a sum for the purpose of being permitted to enter the pale of holy matrimony. And though it is likely enough that he will guess, from the secret manner in which we present ourselves, that our respective parents are probably at feud, and, therefore, would oppose the marriage, he must, at the same time, be aware that there would a great and useless cruelty in attempting to keep asunder a pair who love each other well enough to part vrith a sum which, of course, must be so important to them ! Moreover, a very little common sense will suffice to convince him that, if he will not marry us, some other priest will." This conversation, earnest as it was, had not impeded their pace, and they had now reached the simimit of the hill they had long been ascending. The level they had thus obtained, however^ 2—2 a geeteude; oe, did not continue above a quarter of a mile, before they arrived at a somewhat steep declivity on the other side, which terminated in the little town which they trusted would prove the termination of their excursion ; for there dwelt the priest whom they hoped would consent to unite them in the bonds of holy wedlock. The young girl had never visited this little town before, but it was sufficiently well known to her companion, to enable him, as they descended the hill, to point out to her the dwelling of the priest whom they came to seek ; which humble dwelling seemed to make part and parcel of the little church within whose walls they hoped to receive the benediction which was to insure their mutual happiness for life. Something like a tremor seemed to pass over her, however, as he pointed out the spot, and said, '' There is the church, dearest; and there, under the same roof, as it should seem, is the dwelling of the priest. He felt that she trembled as he pronounced these words, and suddenly stopping, he dropped the arm which rested on his, and placing himself directly before her, he fixed his earnestly en- quiring eyes upon her face, and said, '' Do you eepe:xt ? It is not yet too late to say say. Speak ! " The young girl did not immediately obey him. She did not speak, but she fixed her eloquent eyes upon his face, and let them speak for her ; and truly it may be doubted, if a more perfect model of human beauty, than she then gazed upon, ever met the eye of a mortal, since the original of the Apollo stood before the statuary who has given him an earthly immortality. She looked at him very fixedly for a moment ; and then she sio'hcd. But it was the si<2,'h of tenderness, and of passion. Ecgret had nothing to do with it ; and in the next moment she smiled again, and smilingly recovered possession of his arm, and drawing him back to his place at her side, only replied to his question by a gentle pressure, and an accelerated pace. His reply to this silent decision was also given in silence. A look, and again a gentle pressure of the arm, said quite as much as any words could have done, A few moments brought them to the arched gateway of the little town of Hindsdorf, and a few more to the door of the priest's house. *' Was the priest at home ?" was the question asked with trem- bling eagerness by the young man. The answer was in the affirmative, and about two steps more brought them from the humble door of the house to another equally humble, which opened upon a small snug room, near the open window of which sat the holy man, whose services they came to purchase j he held FiJJZLY PRIDE. 5 a book in his hand, bnt his eyes were fixed npon the blooming little floATcr-gardcu, on which the window opened. It wonld not have been very easy for even more experienced eyes to have formed any very decided opinion npon the temper and character of the man whose face was turned towards them, as soon as she became aware that the door of the room was opened. His age. appeared to be about sixty, or something beyond it, but though rather a spare man, he had still a look of health and ac- tivity, and his eye had lost nothing of the keen expression for which it must ever hare been remarkable. The old woman who had admitted our lovers, linirered for a moment m the doorway, as if wishing to hear them declare their errand ; but her master checked her indiscretion by saying, in an accent which Avas, however, only remarkable from its pecu- liar distinctness, " Shut the door." This command was as promptly obeyed as it was given ; and then the old man turned to his two young visitors, and said, '' AYliat is yoiu^ business ?" '' AVe are come to Hindsdorf to be married," replied the young man, without adding another syllable. The old priest looked at them both rather earnestly for a mo- ment, and then raised his eye-brows, and shook his head. Any description of the scene which followed would be quite super- fluous ; it is enough to say, that the young girl had not rested a vain hope upon the influence of the wedding fee which they had contrived to bring with them. The names of both were equally, and utterly unknown to the old man, whereas the value of their gold was a matter of no mystery whatever. jSTor did he think it necessary to make any great difliculty about the matter. He very hospitably regaled them Avith the best refreshment which his house afforded, and exerted himself very actively while they were engaged in taking it, in order to get everything in order for the ceremony which was to follow. The priest of Hindsdorf was giTatly respected in his parish, and he found no difliculty in obtaining proper and sufficient wit- nesses for the ceremony he was about to perform. In a word, the purpose of the unfriended young couple was achieved with no bustle, and with as little delay as possible ; and the most remarkable circumstance which I have at present to relate respecting it is, that though they walked so lovingly toge- ther to the town of Hindsdorf, they left it by two difi'ercnt routes, which appeared to lead them as far asunder as it was possible they could go. gektefde; oh. CHAPTER II. "We have all read stately stories of proud old tarons m more lands than one ; and if our researches into the annals of the race have led us far back, we may have read too of predatory harons, nay, of murdering barons also ; each one furnishing a theme fruitful in incident, and precious to all the numerous class of readers who love excitement better than example. I, too, have a story to tell about a baron, and, moreorei', about a German baron, which is, I believe, considered as the most romantic species of the class ; but unfortunately the date of my story is not so favourable as I could wish it to be, for it is too recent to furnish authority for any of those highly- wrought descriptions of awful acts, and startling facts, which are so readily welcomed by the imagination, when the period at which they occurred is sufficiently remote to render the application of the test of probability, only a mark of ignorance as to the prodigious difference between the present and the past. Such as my story is, however, I Avill tell it without further preface, only begging for a little more of the indulgence which has so often been granted to me. The Baron von Schwanberg was already an old man when my narrative begins, but still young enough, nevertheless, to be as self-willed and headstrong a gentleman as could easily be found at any age. He was, moreover, one of the very proudest men that ever existed ; but there was such an honest and undoubting sincerity of belief in his own greatness, that few of those who approached him could refuse to sympathise with his feelings sufficiently to prevent their betraying any very decided doubt of his greatness ; for it was easy to perceive that no such doubt could be betrayed to him, without producing a more violent effect than any reasonable person would wish to witness. Had he lived more in the world, this half-insane state of mind must of necessity have been cured ; but evciy circumstance of his life had unfortunately tended to increase it. He was early placed, with all the distinction usually shewn to rank and fortune, in one of the most favoured regiments of the Emperor of Austria ; and if he had remained there, he FAMILY PETDE. 7 would liavc been siirj to learn, notwitlistanding this grace and favour, that he was but a man, though a very noble one. ]3ut unfortunately his lather died within a year after the young officer had attained the age of twenty-one years, and, as the country was then most profoundly at peace, no objection of any kind was made to his withdrawing himself to his estates in Hungary, which were indeed large and important enough to render the personal superintendence of their possessor extremely necessary. Setting aside the sort of monomaniaoal pride above mentioned, the Earon von Schwanbcrg was far from being a bad man ; and if he believed that the duties which devolved upon him at the death of his father, were only second in importance to those which fell upon the Emperor himself, when his imperial parent was removect from the earth, he believed also that great and grave duties devolved upon him likewise, and very earnestly did the youthful baron determine to perform them faithfully. Having, by very careful and judicious inquiry, ascertained both the character and the position of the many families in his immediate neighbourhood, who were either the tenants, cr the labourers on his property, he made various regulations, all tending to encourage and reward their industry ; and it would have been difficult to find in any land an estate, upon which the toiling labourers, who converted its soil into gold, had less reason to complain of their lot. That these labourers were considered by the baron as no more of the same order of beings as himself, than were the docile oxen which they led to plough, or the milky herds which enriched their dairies, is most certain ; but the Earon von Schwanberg was as unconscious of committing any fault or folly, by so think- ing, as he was when selecting a rose from his flower-garden, and testifying his approval of it, by permitting it to bloom for his especial pleasure on his drawing-room table. But, nevertheless, though his gigantic estimate of his own greatness did not weigh upon his conscience, it was in many ways troublesome to him. It cannot be doubted, that such a young man as the baron, almost as far removed from frivolity of all sorts as from right thinking upon most subjects, — it cannot be doubted that such a man had not long found him- self at the head of his illustrious house, before he began to turn his thoughts towards the necessary and all-important busi- ness of forming such a matrimonial alliance as, while it provided for the continuance of his race, should add no symbol to the 8 geeteitie; oe, bearings on his shield which could be consid.red as iimvorthy of a place there. Eut the task he thus set himself wa^, in truth, no easy one. 'Not for a moment during- the many years through Avhicli tliis difficult search lasted, did he ever permit his eye to wander in pursuit of beauty, however attractive, or his heart to soften under the influence of the sweetest smiles that woman could bestow. Some adverse fate seemed to be at work against him ; for, although, in addition to his noble descent, and his large and unincumbered estates, he was decidedlv a verv handsome man, his hand had been more than once rejected. It is probable that he was too much in earnest in the real object which lie had in view, to disguise his comparative indifference on other points ; for it would be really difficult to account for his many disap- pointments on any other ground. At length, however, his persevering researches were rewarded by what he considered as the most brilliant success ; for during his annual visit to Vienna he had the happiness of meeting, wooing, and winning a young countess, who really seemed to possess every Cjualification to make the marriage state happy, save and except the paltry article of wealth ; but as he really would have considered a largo fortune in his wife a very useless superfluity, the want of it was by no means considered as an obstacle to the union ; and at length, therefore, a few months before his fiftieth birthday, the Baron von Schwanberg was united to the young, beautiful, and high-born Countess Gertrude von AYolkcndorf. AYhen a marriage so every way desirable has been achieved by a lover, he is apt to think that he has reached the happiest mo- ment of his existence ; but this was not exactly the case with the Earon von Schwanberg. He was certainly greatly delighted to find himself, at length, married to precisely such a noble young lady as it had been his wish to find ; but not even from her would he have attempted to conceal the fact, that the happi- ness of possessing her was a blessing of conderably less importance than that of the heir which he anticipated as its result. Fortunately, the prospect of this crowning blessing soon became evident, and the delight of the Baron von Schwanberg thei'cupon was almost too great to be restrained within any reasonable bounds. His young wife was often at a loss to know how she ought to receive these vehement demonstrations of his happiness. Like most other women, she gladly welcomed the trial that awaited her, for the sake of the treasure which her womanly hope told her would reward her for it ; but as to sym- TAMILY PEIDE. 9 pathising with the almost conyiilsivc raptures daily and hourly expressed by her husband, it was beyoud her power. She was by nature thouglitful, gentle, and rather undemonstrative, than the reverse ; and moreover, she was as true as she was reasonable ; and the sort of affectation which it would have required to enable her to appear in a state of ccstacy equal to his own, would have required a sacrifice of sincerity which it was not in her nature to make. As it never entered the head of the Baron von Schwanberg, to suppose it possible that any lady who shared with him in all the honours and glories of his position, as his wife, should be insen- sible to the happiness of transmitting them to an heir, he very soon began to torment himself with the terrible idea, that the preternatural composure and indifference, as he called it, of his wife's manner, arose from ill-health ; and from the time this idea first suggested itself to him, he never for a moment lost sight of the possibility, nay, probability, that all his hopes might at last prove abortive. Grievously did he torment his unfortunate lady, who, to say the truth, was in very excellent health, by his unceasing anxiety about her condition ; till at length, finding that the most tender and persevering enquiries could obtain from her nothing but reiterated assurances that she was "quite well," he suddenly took the resolution of adding a domestic accoucheur to his estab- lishment; and as he did not deem it either necessary or judicious to explain to his lady all the parental terrors which had induced him to take this step, ^ladame von Schwanberg was a good deal surprised by the lengthened visit of the grave and not very amusing individual whom her husband now introduced to her as one of his particular friends. This introduction, however, was, of course, enough to insure her treating him with all the consideration due to an honoured guest ; nor, to say the truth, was she at all insensible to the relief she might experience by her magnificent husband having the society of a friend, whose presence might occasionally excuse the necessity of her own, and leave her thereby at liberty to listen, in the retirement of her own apartments, to ''those silent friends that ever please ; " an indulgence which, if not absolutely denied to her, had been vciy greatly restricted since the Earon von Schwanberg had made her the partner of his greatness. But, by degress, it seemed as if this particular friend of her husband's was inclined to assume the right of being her particular friend also. Again and again, it chanced that when the Baron 10 GERTRUDE; OS, brougTit him to pay a daily yisit of compliment to his lady, in her own particular sitting-room, he lingered behind, when the lord of the mansion retired ; and, by degress, this very snpcr- flnons degree of attention was rendered still more remarkable, and still more disagreeable, by his removing from the place he had occnpied during the presence of the lady's husband, and taking a seat next to her, often, indeed, on the very sofa she occupied. And then followed, before she could quite make up her mind as to the best mode of escaping this annoyance, the inconceivable audacity of his taking her hand, and holding it for several minutes in his, despite her very decided efforts to withdraw it. The Baroness von Schwanberg was one of the last women in the world to suspect a gentleman of falling in love with her ; but it appeared to her impossible to suggest any other solution capable of explaining the extraordinary conduct of the Herr Walters. For several days, however, after his idea first occurred, she very earnestly endeavoured to persuade herself that it was impos- sible ; and nothing but the persevering repetition of the offence could have induced her, at length, to confess to her husband that she did not like the manners of his friend, the Herr Walters ; that he was a vast deal too familiar in his mode of addi-essing her, to suit her notions of propriety ; and that she greatly wished that a time for his departure might be fixed as soon as possible. It would be difficult to conceive anything more ludicrous than the manner in which the Baron von Schwanberg listened to this remonstrance. He had cautiously avoided mentioniug to his lady the profession of his guest, from the fear of endangering her health by creating a feeling of alarm ; and it was, therefore, with no appearance of surprise, but with an aspect of the most serene satisfaction, that he now listened to her observations respecting the offensive familiarity of his manner. The B 24 gertei'De; ot^, It certainly was a very prolty sight ; anil the gay, blooming, fearless little Gertrude, making her spirited little pony pace dain- tily along, close to her father's horse, was not the least attractive part of the spectacle. After about an hour's riding, they reached the spot where they were to cross ; and it was arranged between the baron and his friends, that they, and the servants, should all precede him and his precious charge, to prevent the possibility of fiightening the pony by the unwonted sound of splashing hoofs behind him. They all made the passage without the slightest difficulty, the steep descent down the high bank beneath which the little river ran, being by far the greatest impediment to their progress. But Gertrude was far too good a horse-woman to mind this ; and gathering up her reins in as scientific a manner as it was possible for the little hand to achieve, she reached the border of the stream as safely, and as gracefully too, as if she had been riding across her father's lawn. "IS'ow then, Gertrude," said the baron, *'put him to it. Let him step in." Gertrude paused but a moment to gather up her long riding- dress, and obeyed. For the first few paces the little animal seemed to find no difficulty, and made none, but stepped as steadily forward as if conscious of the important duty he had to perfoim, and the necessity of being more than usually careful. The sheltering projection of the steep bank which they had just descended, so efi'ectually impeded the current at the point where the road entered it, that its waters ran almost without a ripple ; but having passed this shelter, Gertrude's little steed stopped short, and neighed to his brethren who had preceded him, as if to consult them concerning his progress. It is true that he had crossed at the same ford before, and had made no difficulty about it; but whether the largeness of the party of which he now made one had shaken his nerves, or that the stream ran deeper in consequence of more recent, or more abundant rain ; in short, whatever the cause, he not only stood still, but shewed very evident symptoms of being frightened. Kot so his high-spirited young reader. I>ut if ignorance is bliss, it is not safety. It was evident that the pony was more aware of the real state of the case than Gertrude, or she would have patted him gently, and waited for her fathei', who followed her at the distance of a few feet ; but instead of this, she gave her little favourite the sharpest touch of her whip that she had ever bestowed upon him, and in order to obey it, he made so FAMILY PEIDE. 25 great an effort tliat lie was immediately taken off his feet, and the terrified baron had the misery of seeing his heiress floating down the stream, very evidently against her will. That it was against the pony's will also, was equally evident ; for though the action of his head and neck very plainly showed that he was endeavouring to ohey the rein which Gertrude still held steadily in her hand, he was unable to do it. Her father's first impulse was to follow her ; but the powerful animal on which he was mounted had no intention of swimming, and strode resolutely onward to the bank, Avhich the rest of the party had reached, without heeding either the heel or the hand of his rider. Meanwhile, more than one of the sportsmen who had crossed, turned their horses' heads down the stream, in the hope of find- ing some point at which they might dash into the river, and by heading the pony and seizing his rein, be enabled to rescue the precious burden he was so evidently carrying to destruction. Eut this plan was more easily formed than executed. The bank on the side which the advanced i^arty had reached rose rapidly, and the swimming pony had already passed the last point at which those who wished to rescue the young girl could possibly have reached the stream. At this terrible moment, when the thought had occurred to more than one of the party, that it was not the classic Tiber only which was destined to roll its waves over youth and beauty ; it was it this terrible moment that the slight figure of a young lad was seen on the side of the river which they had just quitted, running with the swiftness of an antelope to some point Avhich evidently he was desperately purposed to reach ; and he had already outstripped the swimming pony, when he was seen to turn suddenly to a projecting ledge which overhung the river, and then hastily unclasping his belt, and divesting himself of the loose garment which would have impeded his purpose, he took a. vigorous forward spring, which brought him within a few feet of the advancing pony and his helpless burden. After this plunge, the bold boy was for a moment lost to sight, and more than one of the gasping spectators of this frightful scene exclaimed, " He is gone ! " He was not gone far, however, for, though he had sunk to a perilous depth beneath the surface of the water, he speedily rose again, and vigorously seizing the falling girl with his left arm, he swam Avith her, by the help of the right, to a little pebbly cove on the same side of the stream which he had just quitted, and the next moment she was lying, not dry, certainly, but high 26 GERTRUDE; OS, cnoiigli aTjove tlic water to insui'C licr for tlie present from any clanger of being drowned. The scene which followed may he easily imagined. ICot only the half-dead and half-bewildered father immediately set himself to discover the readiest mode of joining the dripping pair, who appeared lying side by side, and equally motionless, on the beach, but every individual of the party — masters and men — were evidently intent on the same object. It took not long to decide what was to be done. In the next moment the whole group were galloping back to the ferry, which they recrossed as rapidly as was consistent with their recently-acquired knowledge of its danger ; and in a few minutes afterwards they reached a point of the cliff, down which they scrambled with no gi-eat difEculty, having dismounted, and consigned their steeds to the care of their servants ; and then they very speedily reached the object of their anxiety. Poor Gertrude was perfectly insensible, and for a few terrible moments her miserable father believed she was dead. But more than one of his truly- sympathizing companions, though not a little flurried by the scene they had witnessed, were, neverthe- less, sutfi-cicntly in possession of their senses to perceive that the adventiu-e, perilous as it unquestionably had been, was not likely to end in so tragical a manner. As there was no one present likely to quote Shakspeare, and exclaim, "Too much of water hast thou" — a very sensible individual of the party ventured to try the experiment of apply- ing a little more ; and as he did this very judiciously, by dashing from a drinking-horn, which he carried in his pocket, a pretty copious libation of the fluid in her face, it proved to be, like many other things, both bane and antidote, according to the mode of its application, for the beautiful eyes of the young Gertrude immediately opened at its startling touch. She first breathed a somewhat sobbing sigh, and then looked about her, very much as if she wanted to find out where she was, and not at all as if she intended to die before she had satisfied herself on this point. There were several stout-hearted gentlemen present upon that occasion, who were heard to declare more than once, in the course of their subsequent lines, that they never should forget the countenance of the Baron von Schwanberg at the moment he first perceived that his daughter was alive. Of all the party present, he had perhaps been the only one who had even for a moment hopelessly and completely believed PAillLY rEIDE. 27 that slio was dead ; and his agony nndcr this conviction had been terrible to witness. His heavy, haughty, hut very handsome face, had assumed a sort of livid paleness, which it was frightful to look at ; and the features had such an expression of misery, so fixed and immovable, that he looked as if turned to stone. The transition from this condition to the full conviction that he still possessed the precious heiress bestowed on him by Heaven (expressly for the piu'pose of proving the absurdity of the Salique law), produced an effect which, for an instant, seemed to over- power him, and he caught hold of the branch of a neighbouiing tree, to prevent himself from falling ; but, in the next, he was sufiiciently recovered to be on his knees beside his treasure ; and it certainly must have have been a hard heart which could have witnessed the embrace which followed, without emotion. I have not, perhaps, on the whole described the Earon von Schwanberg in very agreeable colours; but, dull as he might have been on some points, he was not dull enough to be insensible to the immensity of the obligation which he owed to the poor boy who had saved his daughter's life, and who was still lying on the bank beside her, very nearly as pale as herself ; for he had dislocated his ankle while dragging the young lady to land, among the unsteady pebbles and stones of which the river, some- times a very powerful stream, had thrown up a tolerably steep ridge. With one aim still clasped round his daughter, he employed the other in trying to raise the pale lad, who certainly did not at first give any very certain indications that his own life might not be the sacrifice he was doomed to pay for having preserved that of another ; but, though in great pain from his ankle, he was neither dead nor insensible, and was soon sufficiently re- covered to reply to the questions kindly, and even anxiously, put to him by the baron, as to the distance to his home, and the best way of conveying him thither. The brave boy's reply to the first question was agreeable to the noble questioner in more ways than one, for it conveyed the information that he was the nephew of a priest well known in the neighboui'hood, and that a short cut across the country would speedily bring him to the good man's home, which, for the pre- sent, was his own also, as well as that of his mother, who was sister to the worthy and much-respected ecclesiastic. " I am glad to hear it, with all my heart!" exclaimed the baron, with great energy. "Your uncle shall become my con- fessor in the place of old father Ambrose, who has grown too infirm 28 GEETErDE; OE, to come to the castle, and too deaf to hear me confess. He shall be pensioned, and yonr uncle shall be promoted ; and so shall yon, too, my young hero, you may take the Baron von Schwan- ber2;'s word for that." And then followed a consultation among the numerous group wliich Avas now assembled round them, as to the best method of conveying the lamed boy to his home ; and as it became j)erfectly evident, upon his attempting to stand, that he was totally in- capable of walking, it was speedily decided that the carriage, which was already sent for to convey the uninjured but dripping Gertrude, should convey her preserver to the castle likewise; while another domestic was dispatched to the TJnterthal dwelling of the priest, to infonn both him and his sister that the young Ptupcrt was safe, and that both of them would be welcome at the Schloss Schwanberg, if they would come thither to visit liim. There might be traced in the well-pleased tone in which the baron said this, a self- approving consciousness that the invitation thus given must necessarily be so highly gratifying to the persons to whom it was addressed, as to be almost of itself a fitting reward for the service it was intended to acknowledge. But the Baron von Schwanberg was no niggard either in his gratitude or in the manner in which it was his intention to show it; and having paused for a moment after pronouncing these flattering words, he added, in a tone that had a good deal of solemnity in its earnestness, ''Xor will their welcome to the castle of Schwanberg be the only proof given by its lord of his gratitude for, and his admiration of, the high coui'age and the noble impulse by which the life of his heiress has been preserved." The pale-faced hero of the adventure, for pale he still was, and still suffering considerable pain, contrived nevertheless, to smile as he replied, with a disclaiming shake of the head, "There is nobody in the world, I believe, my Lord Baron, who would not have done just the same thing, if he had happened to have been by." " It is well and highly becoming that you should say so, my good boy," returned the baron, with a gracious nod; "but it would be quite the reverse of this, if I could either tliink or sav so." The boldest rider and the best mounted of his train, had already been sent back to the castle by its master, to order the countess's coach to be instantly prepared, and brought with all possible speed to the spot where the accident had happened. "And, for (jtuosity, sprung from her own table to that at which her mother was sitting. " It is not a secret, I suppose, mamma, is it ?" said she, bending over her mother's shoulder, with the very evident intention of reading the note she held. "Fie upon you! naughty Eve, as you are!" said her mother, laughing. " You may perceive it is addressed to Mr. Odcnthal," she added, holding up the note so as to exhibit the address ; and, therefore, it is Air. Odenthal's permission, and not mine, which is necessary." " Indeed, mamma!" said the young lady, bounding back to her accustomed place still more vehemently than she had left it ; "I have not the very slightest wish to force myself into ]Mr. Rupert's confidence. TV'ill it be more discreet for me to leave the room ? Or will it do, if I go down to the very farther end of it?" "Let me read it aloud, Hupert — shall I?" said the greatly- pleased Itadame de Schwanbcrg. " Silly child as she is, I think it will give her almost as much pleasure as it does me ; and I am quite sure it would, if she as well knew its probable importance to you." {She then read the note aloud, and addressing her daughter as she gave it back to liupert, she said, "You see, Gertrude, that we are not the only people in the world who find Rupert an agreeable companion. But the messenger is Avaiting, my dear boy. 8it down and write your answer." "But you have not yet told me, dear madam, what that answer is to be. AVhat will you give me leave to say to him ?" ' ' Oh, llupert ! if I were mamma, what a rage I should be in with you!" exclaimed Gertrude, with cheeks as red as scarlet. " Do you really think that mamma Avants to make a slave of you ? Don't you feel that you hate him, mamma ? If I were in your place, I am quite sure that I should!" " jS'ot unless you misunderstood his application to me as com- pletely after you had got into my place as you evidently do now, Gertrude," replied the baroness; "our friend llupert might as reasonably be accused of being a slave because he opened a door for me, or offered me his arm in a walk, as because he consulted me as to the best time of appointing Count Adolphe to meet him." 8—2 100 GtliTEUUE; OE, '• Oh! if that is all, mamma, it is all very right and proper ; and, of course, I was a fool for supposing that liupert could mean anything else." "Suppose you name mid-day, to-morrow, llupert," said the baroness, after meditating upon the subject for a moment; "and you had better say in your note," she added, kindly, "that we should be very glad to see him here to dinner afterwards, at four o'clock." Thus authorized to return precisely such an answer as he wished to send, Rupert was not long in despatching his reply ; and this being done, he ([uietly sat himself down to continue the employ- ment upon which he had been occupied when this agreeable interruption stopped him. l^ut Gertrude seemed determined to atone for her cross fit, by becoming so gaily frolicsome, as to render it impossible for any one within reach of the sound of her voice to employ themselves seriously. " What is come to you, Gertrude ?" said her mother, laughing with her, because it was impossible to resist her gaiety. "Upon my word, you give us reason to suppose that you are beyond measure delighted at the idea of seeing our agreeable young neighbour at dinner, to-morrow ; and I cannot chide you for it, if you are, for there are very few people that I like so well myself, as this Count Adolphe." "And I can go farther than that, mamma ! " replied the young lady, with great energy ; ' ' for I can truly say, that I never in mv whole life liked anv one so much." Her mother looked at her earnestly for a moment, and during that moment she certainly became more conscious tlian she had ever been before, that Gertrude was no longer a child. But neither by look or word did she betray the discovery she had made, to either of her companions. She quietly resumed her own employment, and Ptupert proceeded with his ; but Gertrude liad less command of herself, and might have been seen, if her companions had been at leisure to watch her, more occupied in plucking the feathers from her gi^ey goose quill, than in writing with it. Nothing intervened to interfere in any way with the projects which had been formed for the following day ; and with exemplary puntuality to the hour named, the two young men met at the spot indicated by Rupert, in reply to Count Adolphe's note. The meeting was joyously cordial on both sides, and they set forward on their projected ramble with as much satisfaction as if FAMILY PEIDE. 101 the pedigree of the one was precisely on an equality with the pcdigTee of the other. Tor the first hour or so of their walk, it was Eupert who seemed to lead the conversation; and many interesting themes were touched, not one of which but might have furnished a wider scope for interesting discussion than many a morning's ramble could have allowed time for. But at length, just as Paipert was waiting a reply to a some- what bold speculation. Count Adolphe suddenly stood still, and darting off from the subject they were upon, he exclaimed, ''What a lucky fellow you are, Eupert Odenthal I I envy you that library ! I envy you the companions with whom you seem to live there ! I really know no man living, whose existence seems to pass so exactly as I would wish my own to do. There is but one anxiety which could, I think, interfere to torment me in such a situation." "And what is that. Count?" said Eupert, with a smile, as he thought of his right noble patron, the Baron von Schwan- berg. "^"ay," returned his companion, colouring. "I assure you that the danger to which I am alluding has no mixture of jest in it. I do really and truly think, friend Eupert, that if I spent as many hours as you do in the society of the Baroness Gertrude, I should be in gTeat danger of falling in love with her." The sparkling eyes of Eupert again kindled into a smile. " AVere such an adventure to befal me," he replied, "I should most certainly consider it as a very terrible mishap ; but I don't see why it should be so in your case." " On account of the coutigiious estates, you mean, and all that sort of stuff. Fie ! fie ! Eupert ! I did not expect to hear such trash as that from you. Do you really think that I should con- sider my happiness ensured by being married to Gertrude, at the command of her father and mine?" "Xo, indeed. Count Adolphe!" returned his companion; "I think no such thing. But neither do I think, on the other hand, that the well-pleased consent of both ought to be any di-awback on your happiness." "I did not exactly mean that, either," returned Adolphe, colouring more perceptibly than before. "All I should want or wish, would be, that they would let us alone. But what I want most particularly to know at this moment is whether you are in love with her yourself, Eupert?" Eupert, in replying to this very important question, really and 102 , geetrude; oi? J truly did all lie could, both to look and spoak seriously, as he answered, " Xo, my Lord Count. I am not!" " Thank God !" exclaimed the young nobleman very fervently ; " I am sure you would not deceive me, dear Rupert!" he added, *' and, therefore, I welcome this very delightful assurance, with the most perfect conviction of its truth. But how you have escaped, is to me a perfect mystery ! Tell me, llupcrt, did you ever see any one whom you thought more beautiful":'" " I am almost afraid to answer you, dear Count !" said Rupert, casting down his eyes, and assuming an aspect of gi'eat solemnity; "but, at any rate, I will not take refuge in an untruth, in order to propitiate your favour. Yes!" he added, "yes ! I have seen two people "who, according to my judgment, are both handsomer than the Baroness Gertrude von Schwanberg." And here he stopped. Count Adolphe raised his arms in an action of astonishment, but this was accompanied by a smile, which plainly proclaimed that his offence was forgiven. "Go on ! " said the Count. I'pon which Rupert meekly bent his head, and pronounced, in a deprecatory tone, "I think the baroness, her mother, is hand- somer." "And the other?" said Adolphe, with rather a contemptuous shake of the head. "The other is a little girl, whom you have probably never seen, my Lord Count ; for she is the daughter of a poor woman, who lives in the "spillage of v/hich mv uncle Alaric is the priest." "And you are not speaking in jest, Rupert?" said the young nobleman, gravely. "1^0, indeed, I am not!" returned Rupert, with all the sim- plicity of truth. " As to our baroness at the castle, I scarcely ever look at her without thinking that she is the exact model of what a poet might fancy as the lovely sovereign of some enchanted land. Some of Spenser's descriptions remind me of her. I do not think her daughter will ever be so exquisitely graceful as she is And as to my little nymph of the fountain — for it is when fetch- ing water from the fountain that I have generally seen her — she is more like a picture, or a dream, than anything made of flesh and blood. The eyes of your young baroness are very much like the eyes of her mother, and they are, therefore, exceedingly h-.mdsomo ; but you must see my nymph of the fountain before yo-.i can understand, Jiow beautiful eyes may be." FAMILY PEIDE. 103 "Yes!" returned Adolphe, rather solemnly; ''eyes may assuredly be very beautiful ; but what a providential arrange- ment it is, friend Paipert, that the judgment of the eyes of those who look, varies as much as the beauty of the eyes looked at. It is long since I felt as light-hearted as I do at this moment, for to tell you the honest truth, I was desperately afraid that you too might be in love with this peerless young Gertrude. And yet, my good friend, a moment's consideration ought to be enough to suggest the heavy fact, that although she may not be in love with you, nor you with her, yet nevertheless it does not follow as -a necessary consequence, that she will therefore some day be in love with me ! IS'ay, how do I know that I may not at this present moment, be the object of her peculiar dislike ? Gracious Heaven I "What a dreadful thought ! And yet my common sense tells me that it is quite as likely that it should be so, as not. ..." And having uttered these terrible words, in a tone of unmistakeable sincerity, the agitated young man suddenly quitted the arm of his companion, and throwing himself on the turf beside the path, buried his face in his hands. "It certainly is a strange choice, Count Adolphe, that has put it in my power to give you hope on such a subject as this," said Eupert, gaily throwing himself on his knees beside him ; " but so it is, and that too, without any breach of confidence on my part. But when your letter to me was brought into the library yesterday morning, my ever kind friend and patroness, the baroness, ex- pressed her pleasure at such an unequivocal proof of your amiable readiness to forget the distance which station places between us, and spoke of you generally, my good friend, in the terms wliich you so well deserve. Whereupon, the young baroness, Gertrude, blushing like a new-blown rose, exclaimed, with an earnest energy, of which I would fain give you an idea if I could, ' I can go farther than that, mamma ; for I can truly say, that I never in my whole life, liked any one so much.' Does that satisfy you, Count?" "Satisfy me I" exclaimed the delighted young man, springing up. " Did she really say this, Eupert? But I know she did, for you are incapable of deceiving me." "Indeed I am, dear Count," replied Eupert, gi'avely. " If I know myself, I am incapable of deceiving you in any way ; and trust me, in a case where your happiness is so deeply concerned, I would not only be true, but cautious also. But my memory has not failed me, dear Adolphe ! She spoke the words with even greater energy than I have repeated them ; and her mother was 104 geeteude; oe, ^ evidently conscious of this, for she positively started, and blushed too, almost as brightly as her daughter." I will not attempt to describe the state of happiness produced on the young Count by this observation. He seemed to walk on air ; nor was his reception, on returning to Schwanberg, at all calculated to check the hopes which it had created. The baron was as courteous as a baron so very solemn could be ; the baroness was all genuine kindness, and the blooming Gertrude went as far as it was possible for a well-behaved young lady to go, in making it evident to the guest that she liked very much to see him there. CHAPTEE XVI. OxcE fairly convinced that he had no rival to fear in Rupert, and that the fair object of his passion was by no means disposed to frown upon him, the course to be pursued became equally hopeful and easy to the young lover. In the first place, as in duty bound, he requested a private interview with his father. The Count von Steinfeld was in many respects an amiable and estimable gentleman ; and if his attachment to his son (his only son) had something approaching to fanaticism in it, the fine qualities, and excellent conduct of the young man, oftercd a great excuse for it. The revenues of Count Steinfeld were very nearly, if not fully, equal to those of his neighbour, the Earon von Schwanberg ; and his nobility as unblemished, though not, per- haps, of so high antiquity. The hopes of the young Adolphe, therefore, had nothing deserving the imputation of presumption in them ; but there is so much of true timidity for ever mixed with true love, that it was not without trepidation that the young man presented himself before his father, to beseech his consent to his ofi'ering his hand to Gertrude. Now the only feature in the business in the least likely to check the satisfaction of Count Steinfeld on hearing this proposi- tion, was the recollection that he was himself but just above forty years old, and that his son was not yet twenty. His high rank FAMILY PRIDE. 105 and ample fortune had produced in him an effect diametrically different to what similar causes had produced on the Baron von Schwauberg ; for whereas the baron had found it so difficult to discover a lady in all respects deserving the honour of being his wife, that he had nearly reached the age of fifty before he accom- plished it, the Count had fallen desperately in love when he was about the same age as his enamoured son was now ; and though he could not jjlead his own example as a warning, for he had been very particularly happy both as a husband and a father, yet still he felt that there were some rational objections against such very early marriages. The first effect of Adolphc's solemn proposal was to make his father laugh ; whereupon the young man blushed still deeper than before. "Is there anything ridiculous, sii', in my selection?" said he, with very considerable dignity. '' No, indeed, Adolphe!" returned his gay father, still laughing. "If you have really made up your mind that you are in want of a wife, I really do not think that you could have chosen better." Somewhat mollified and consoled by this assurance, Adolphe replied, almost with a smile ; " Then may I ask why you laugh at me?" " ^N'ot at you, my dear boy My dear man, I mean. Xot at you, Adolphe ! Your choice is an admirable one, in all ways. I only laughed at thinking what a lot of dowagers there will be in a few years, if your progeny follow our example." " You were very fortunate, my dear sir, in meeting my mother at an age, which was likely to ensure you a long life of happiness. But at any rate, my dear father, my choice can involve no conse- quences which should lead you to object to it as imprudent in a pecuniary point of view. The Baroness Gertrude is an only child, and her father is already an old man." " True ! quite true, Adolphe," replied his father ; adding, in a tone which had nothing of jesting in it, " Woo her, and win her, my dear son ! Depend upon it your happiness shall find no im- pediments from me. If it be settled, as I think it should be, that vou should have an establishment of youi' own, I shall be ready to double whatever income the baron may think proper to settle on his daughter." It may be easily predicted by what I have stated, that no time was lost by Adolphe in ascertaining whether his friend Paipert was right in believing that he had made a favoiu-able impression on the heart of the young Gertrude. 106 geeteude; or, The dinner which had succeeded to their morninc^ walk, showed her ever ready to listen when he spoke, and to show, moreover, Ly her replies, that she had listened with pleasure ; and ho de- served very c:reat credit for the self- command which enabled him to say farewell when he left her, without uttering a word that might lead her to guess, that before he saw her again he would probably have asked, and obtained permission, from both their fathers, to kneel before her, and ask for her hand in marriage. The interview with his own father, which has been already described, took place early on the following morning ; and within half-an-hour afterwards, he was galloping over the three or four miles which divided the two mansions. He had the good luck of meeting his friend Ptiipert at the distance of a live minutes' walk from Schloss Schwanberg ; whereupon he sprang from his horse, and throwing the reins over the saddle, he suffered the docile animal to follow him, while he profited by the meeting, by making jlupert understand that he came to offer his hand to Gertrude with the full consent of his father. "Bravo!" cried Rupert, joyously; "I wish you joy with all my heart, for I am neither so blind nor so dull as not to think our young baroness very charming, though not quite so beautiful as her mother. But we must manage a Ute-a-Ute for you at once, Sir Count, somehow or other, for the beauty of the mother will not atone for the inconvenience of her presence at such a mo- ment." ''Good heaven! Xo!" cried the lover, in a tone which be- trayed great perturbation. " Manage this for me, Eupert, and I u'ill cause your name to be specially mentioned in the castle chapel the first day I am the master of it." " jS^ay, traitor!" replied llupert, laughing, ''if you turn my own jokes against me, I will so manage as to bring the mighty baron himself to be present at the very moment you are making your proposal!" A little coaxing, however, so effectually softened the heart of llupert, that he not only undertook to promise that the baron should not appear, but also that he would invent some means or other of causing the baroness to leave the room immcdiatelv. It is not necessary to describe the gratitude of the lover on receiving this promise; suffice it to say, that it was kept, and that Adolphe Steinfeld and Gertrude Schwanberg very speedily found them- selves Ute-d-tete in the Schwanberg library. The reception which Gertrude had given to the young Count upon his entrance, was by no means calculated to discoui-age him ; FAMILY PETDE. 107 for it was with a smile, not only bright and beautiful, but too eloquently expressive of real pleasure to be mistaken. The young' man lost no time, but had explained the object of his visit, with equal eagerness and grace, within a few moments after the successful manoeuvring of his friend had placed him tete-d-tete with the young baroness. Getrude, too, on her part, displayed more self-possession and propriety of demeanour during these agitating moments, than might have been reasonably expected from so young a girl. Thr.t they wi:ee agitating moments, was proved by the deep blush which suffused her beautiful face, and by a tremor in her voice, which reduced it almost to a whisper. "Your attachment. Count Adolphe," she said, "would do honour to a much worthier object than such a childish creature as I am ; but my esteem for you is too sincere to permit my pleading my youth as an objection to your addresses; and I will say to you now, what I am quite sui^e I should say, under similar circumstances, were I many years older. I was but seventeen my last birthday, Count Adolphe ; but, if I were of full age, I should tell you that I refer you wholly to my father for your answer. It is not, believe me, because I have any doubts of your merit, or, on that point at least, any great doubt of my own judgment ; but people of our station of life have duties to fulfil, which may not be neglected with impunity. My own case, as you must be aware, is a peculiar one. I have learnt, even from my dear mother her- self, that my father's disappointment at not having a male heir has been bitterly felt by him ; and I think that I can never be grateful enough for the tender afFcction which seems almost to have reconciled him to his disappointment. The only adequate return I can make for this affection, is referring myself implicitly to him on such an occasion as the present." "May I see him now?" said the impatient young man, more inclined to bless his noble birth and broad acres at that moment than he had ever been before. Gertrude answered him with a blushing smile, which made him forgive the delay she proposed. " Xo ! — not to-day, Count Adolphe ! Depend upon it, I know best. Let it be to-morrow, at this same horn-, if you will : imd even so, he may think you, perhaps, over-hasty. Oh ! what a little time ago it seems since we were both children!" "And do you really insist upon my waiting till to-morrow?" said the young man. " Yes," she replied, holding out her hand, in token of farewell. 108 geeteude; oe, He saw that she was in earnest ; and he not only took the hand, but ventured to kiss it, as he said, ''Farewell, then, dearest Gertnide ! — farewell till to-morrow ! " 8he turned her head only as she repeated this farewell. . . . But, on the whole, he was far from being dissatisfied by the interview; and never in his life before, had he contemplated with so much satisfaction the stately aspect of his father's noble residence as he did upon returning to it now, with the comfortable belief that the Baron von Schwanberg could not be insensible to its splendour, or ignorant of the ample revenues by which it was sustained. T^o sooner had the door of the library closed behind him, than Gertrude reseated herself, with the look and manner of one who had been sufficiently agitated to make solitude and re])ose very welcome. She did not, however, permit herself to enjoy either very long, but, hastily rising, began seeking amidst the miscella- neous objects which covered her own particular table, and selecting from them a very tiny volume, put it into her pocket, and left the room. CHAPTER XYII. It was to the apartment in which her father generally dozed away the interval between his heavy breakfast and his before- dinner ride, that Gertrude now betook herself ; and, although he certainly looked more than half asleep, she approached him with a sort of resolute step, that plainly showed that it was her pur- j^ose to arouse him. " Are you at leisure for me to talk to you a little, papa?" said she ; " for I have something I want very much to say to you." " I am not quite sure that I could find leisure at this moment to converse with any one else, my dear Gertrude ; but you well know that I always contrive to find it for j'ou." ''I well know, my dear father, that you are always kind and indulgent to me, even when I come to you like an idle child, to talk to vou for my own amusement. But the case is different now. I am come to tell you, even before I mention it to my mother, that the young Count Adolphe von Steinfeld has made me an ofi'er of marriage." FAMILY PEIDE. 109 " You have behaved, as you always do, with the greatest possi- ble propriety in bringing this intelligence to your father, to the head of your own noble house, Gertrude, before you communicated it to any one else. I am sorry," he added, after a pause — *' I am sorry, Gertrude, that the young man has not shown an equal sense - of what was due to me on such an occasion. However, I pre- sume he must be forgiven on the score of love. I am qnite ready to believe, Gertrude, that he is too much enamoured to have entirely the command of his own judgment." "You are very kind, papa, to judge him so leniently. I am quite aware that he ought not to have spoken to me on the subject till he had obtained your leave to do so." "Eight again, my dear, as you always are," said the baron, taking her hand. " I am proud of my daughter, and I have reason to be so. However, Gertrude, we must not be too hard on the young man, either. You are certainly a very fair excuse, my dear, for a little blundering at such a moment. Moreover, it is impossible that I can deny the value of the compliment he has paid you. The only son of my distinguished neighbour, the Count von Steinfeld, is a very great match lor any lady. The estate is a very noble one, and perfectly unencumbered ; and, moreover, it is contiguous to mine. The two estates, when united, would certainly make one of the finest properties in the country, my dear Gertrude ; and I confess to you, that I think it would be difficult to find a more eligible connection for you." Gertrude, who had seated herself, and was placed immediately opposite to her father, with her eyes fixed on the carpet, remained silent for a short interval after he had ceased speaking, and then, almost in a whisper, repeated the word, " connection V " Ah, Gertrude ! " said her father, relaxing so far from his usual stately demeanour as to smile; "ah, Gertrude! I suppose your young heart is too much interested for the young man him- self, to permit your giving a single thought to his position in life. Is it not so ? " "Xo! my dear father! no! It is not so," replied Gertrude, with a degree of earnestness that had something almost solemn in it. " Can you believe that your daughter can be so lamentably the slave of any passion, as to make her unmindful of the race from which she sprung? Can you forget the hours we have passed together, in which you have explained to me tlie pure nobility of your blood, and of the higher station still which the family of my mother holds ? If yo« forget this, dear father, I do not; and so deeply have your words and your feelings been 110 GEETHrDE; OR, imprcPSGcI npon my heart, that I believe myself utterly incapahle of 1( eliiiG; for any man such an attachment as a wife oui:ht to feel for her husband, unless he were one whom my piide might select as well as my love." And then she slopped, again turning her eyes upon the ground, which, while speaking, had been earnestly fixed upon her father's face. ' ' When I listen to such words from your lips, my noble- minded Gertrude, it is like listening to the sound of my own thoughts ! " replied the baron in a sort of ecstacy that positively made his lips tremble ; " and deeply indeed should I despise myself, could I in the choice of a matrimonial connection for you, suffer any consideration of any kind to interfere with what we owe to noble blood and high alliances. But this young man, my sweet Gertrude, is a nobleman of high birth, nor do I remember to have heard that his race has ever been degraded by an ignoble marriage ! " '' But has it ever been embellished, my dear father, by such alliances as I have traced in our own pedigree?" returned Ger- trude solemnly. "Have I not myself heard you say," she con- tinued in the same tone, "that instead of marrying early, as most men of your rank and fortune are apt to do, have I not heard you say that you waited till what is generally considered as an advanced age for matrimony, solely for the pui-pose of giving yourself an opportunity of improving your magnificent escutcheon ? And how deeply do I feel indebted to you for this ! There are bearings on the AYolkendorf shield, of which sovereign princes may boast with pride." " You speak nothing but the truth, my daughter, in saying so," replied the baron, with the quiet but dignified demeanour of one conscious of merit of no common class. " And while you acknowledge this, my dearest father," re- sumed the beautiful heiress ; " can you not sympathise with the feeling which leads me to plead for time, before I engage myself to any man ? AVhen you remember how young I still am, I think you must allow that I have enough time before me to justify my pleading for some few years' delay, before I resign the dignified position I hold as your daughter and heiress, in order to become the wife of any man whose pedigree is less illustrious than your own." " Admirable ! admirable young creature ! " exclaimed the baron, " most safely may you be trusted in this matter, and I do, and will trust to you implicitly. Fear not, Gertrude, that I FAMILY PEIDE. . Ill should evrr urge you to marry any one whose escutcheon you could not explain to your children with as good effect as I have explained mine to you. But are you quite sure, my dear love, that this might not be the case if you accepted the hand of Count Adolphe von Steinfeld ? I really do not remember to have heard of any degrading alliance contracted by that family." *' Perhaps not, papa," replied Gertrude. ''Degrading is a very strong epithet, and I confess to you that the mere fact of their not having degraded themselves by their alliances, would not be enough to satisfy me. I have sometimes thought, papa," she resumed, after a short pause, "I have sometimes thought, that I knew a way by which I could very easily decide whether any one who proposed to me, had any right to hope for an alliance by maiTiage with your family or with that of my mother." ''And what way is that, my noble child? " eagerly demanded the baron. "T^^hy, by just going carefully through the pages of the Almanack de Gotha. There is one member of your family mentioned in it about seventy or eighty years ago, I think, on the occasion of one of the daughters forming a matrimonial alliance with a relative of a reigning duke ; and there are no less than three of mamma's remote ancestors, whose names are to be found there in the same way. Xow it seem's to me, that as I am thus honoured on both sides of my house, my name also ought to find its way, by means of marriage, into the same august memorial." '' I would, indeed, wish that so it should be," said the baron, solemnly ; his T 'hole form seeming to dilate as his daughter thus fed him with the food he loved. '* I willingly agree to accept of this as a criterion. But are you quite sure, Gertrude, that our neighbour, Count Steinfeld, has never been happy enough to find his way to the pages of this ennobling record ? His estate is a very fine one, and perfectly unemcumbered, which is a circum- stance which, I believe, very often leads to advantageous marriages." Gertmde did not immediately reply, but she put her hand into her pocket, and drew thence the tiny volume, which she had taken from one of the library tables. "I have examined this book, papa, very carefully, from the first page to the last," she said; " and I pledge you my word, that the Count Steinfeld is not fortunate enough to have found a place there." ''Enough, my dearest love," replied the baron; "I have 112 gertkude; ok. > pledged my word to you, Gertrude, that I will trust to your own discretion in this matter. You are as yet, as you well observe, extremely young ; and with your birth and fortune, to say nothing of your rather striking personal attractions, I certainly feel that I need be in no hurry to part with my daughter." " You have made me very happy, my dear father, by trusting me to my own discretion in the important business of marriage," she replied; "I shall not be in a hurry, dear papa! There is no reason Avhatever to render it desirable that I should be. Your daughter really ought not, child as she is in age, to be married to the first boy who may happen to fancy that he likes her ; or to one who may happen to think that he should like to obtain possession of the Baron von Scwhanberg's castles and domains. "We are very happy as we are, dearest papa ! and if we are wise, we shall make up our minds to remain so for many happy years yet, unless, indeed, some one were to propose, who might place my name in this dear little book ! " " You deserve to be ni)/ daughter, my high-minded Gertrude; and I flatter myself that I am not altogether unworthy of being your father ! " returned the baron, fervently. "But you must not leave me yet, my beloved child!" he added, seeing that she had risen as if to quit the room ; you regally must tell me, and tell me precisely, my dearest Gertrude, in what way you would wish me to dismiss this young man. I should be very sorry to offend either him or his family. "\Miat 3'ou say about the Almanack is unanswerable ; and God knows I am the last man in the world, my love, to disregard such an observation, made, too, in so truly noble a spirit ! But it would be difficult to explain all this to him. AVhat do you think I had better say, my dear Gertrude ? " "I am not very well versed in such affairs as yet, papa," replied the young baroness, gravely ; " but the only child of the Baron Schwanberg is not likely to escape proposals of this sort ; and, therefore, dear father, I would recommend you to decide at once, upon the manner in which you will think it best that your answers should be given." ** Certainly, my dear! certainly! Toothing can be more right and sensible than wluit you say. But it won't do, you know, my dear, for me to learn by heart a form of words about it, because it cannot always be the same, my dear Gertrude. For if you were the daughter and heiress of a king, you must be married at some time or other, you know ; and then, my love, as your own good sense must tell you, the answer must be different." FAMILY PEIDE. 113 "Yes, papa, I am a^rare of that," she replied, in the qnict accent which implies assnnicd conviction. " Ent we are agreed, yon know, in thinking that there is no occasion for ns to be in a hurry about it. A young lady in my position ought to be allowed time to see a little of the world, before she exchanges tlie immense advantages of such a position for any other less than regal." "Quite true! Most perfectly true! And it is a sentiment worthy of yourself, my darling Gertrude ! But still, you know, dearest, I should not exactly like to say that to Count Adolphe. Think about it, my love, and let me know the result of your thoughts. I know that I have very considerable command of language myself, but, nevertheless, I think you might be abl& to assist me." " On such occasions, my dear father," replied Gertrude, looking a little alarmed ; " I should think the most concise method would be the best, and I am quite sure it would be the kindest. It will be quite enough to say that you cannot accept his proposal, and that you hope he will very soon forget having made it ; for that you should be extremely sorry to lose him as an acquaintance and friend, and so would your family also." ""Well then, my dear love, that is just what I will say; and it sounds so very civil and kind, that I think he cannot be offended." "Quite impossible, dear papa!" replied Gertrude, moving towards the door with a quick step. " Good bye !" But before she had passed through the said door, she was recalled by the voice of the baron, who, in rather a loud key, articulated: — ' ' Come back, Gertrude ! Come back for one short moment, my dear love, I must beg of you ! That won't quite do, either, Ger- trude ! It is so very abrupt, my dear child ! So very much like what any other person might say — any ordinary person I mean — and, ther(^fore, you see, my dear, I don't think it can be quite the proper thing for me to say." Gertrude, of course, stepped back, as in duty bound ; but she looked exceedingly vexed. " Then if you cannot find words to refuse him, papa, I suppose I must marry him, notwithstanding all the reasons I have assigned against it." And again she turned to leave the room. "Xo, Gertrude! Ko!" said the baron, in his most pompous tone. " It shall never be said, that I gave my daughter and sole 9 114 gekteude; oe, heiress to a man I did not approve, solely becanse I did not know how to refuse him. Give me that little book, if you please. My best answer will be, the holding this book in my hand, and saying (after I have expressed a great deal of personal regard for him) : JSfo man, Count Adolpke, can become the husband of ony daughter loiili my consent^ ivhose family have not yet found a place hereP Gertrude blushed to the very roots of her hair, as she listened to him ; and for some seconds she remained perfectly silent. She then drew a long breath, as if she had struggled with herself, and had conquered some feeling which had impeded her reply ; and then she said, ''Yes, papa. Perhaps that would be the best answer you could give." And having said this, she waited for no farther rejoinder, but hastened back to the door, and left the room. CHAPTEE XYIII. Before that eventful day was over, Count Adolphe contrived to seek, and to find his friend Eupert. The painful state of suspense in which the reply of Gertrude, and her reference to her father, had left him, could in no direction have found anything so nearly approaching relief and consolation, as in the long walk through the neighbouring forest, which they then took together. Eupert was still sanguine as to the answer he was likely to receive ; but the lover himself was much less so. *' In some respects you ought to know her a great deal better than I do," said the anxious Adolphe ; " and yet I think, that as concerns the all-important question, it is I who am right, and you who are wrong." "It may be so, clear Count," replied Eupert, gravely; ''for most surely I have little, or rather no means of judging correctly on such a subject. A\Tiat I told you, however, was perfectly true. I can, at least, be certain, as far as having accurately repeated the words I heard her say about you. Farther, dear friend, I cannot go ; for if words are uttered with two meanings, I think I am quite as likely as you can be to give them the wrong interpreta- tion, instead of the right." The most anxious hours, however, pass away as rapidly as the FAMILY PRIDE. 115 most deli c^-htf 111 ones, if we could Lut teach ourselves to believe it; and lliough the interval appeared immeasurably long, the momeiit for appearing- before the august liaron von Sehwanberg seeme;! to have come all too soon, when it arrived at last. Count Adolphe was, upon most occasions, a very fearless, stout-hearted young man ; but, despite his valour, he was very considerably agitated when the moment arrived at which he was to request admission to the presence of the always sublime, but now posi- tively awful, Baron von Schwanberg. Eut having made this request, he was at least spared all farther waiting ; for he was at once shown into the room in which stood the most luxraious arm-chair which the mansion could boast, and which, therefore, had long become the favourite dozing room of its master. He rose from his chair as his young visitor approached, and extended a hand to him with so very condescending a bow, that the Count Adolphe felt his hopes most agreeably sti'engthened ; and it was, therefore, with more firmness and courage than he had himself dared to hope for, that he avowed his attachment, and besought permission to offer his hand to the young baroness. IsTobody who had been half-a-dozen times in the company of the Baron von Schwanberg, could doubt that the fij'st words he uttered would be prefaced by a sonorous "he-hem!" and the sound of this, on the present occasion, though it had, perhaps, something rather more than usually solemn in it, did not, there- fore, greatly dismay the young suitor ; but when it was followed by the drawing from his pocket a richly bound little book, which he held between his hands, and bowed over, with a sort of mys- terious reverence, the young man knew not what to think, and almost began to doubt whether he had made himself clearly understood. At last, however, the great man spoke, and uttered these words : "Xo man. Count Adolphe, can become the husband of my daughter, with my consent, whose family have not yet found a place here." ^ Xow, it is certainly extremely probable that the majority of highly-born young Germans know the Almanack de Gotha"^ by sight, foi- it is, in its ordinary form, a queer-shaped little book, and easily recognised ; but it so happened, that Adolphe Steinfeld did not recognise it ; and he stared at this strange, and to him perfectly unintelligible appeal, yqyj much as if the noble baron had ansvrered him in Greek, 9-2 116 geetkude; oe, A silence, which appeared alarmingly long to the lover, fol- lowed ; but as he happened to have so expressive a countenance that even the slow baron perceived that he had not been under- stood, this silence rather assisted the denouement than delayed it. ''Is it possible, young man," said he, ''that you do not under- stand me ? Is it possible that you do not know this book when you see it? This book, sir, is the 'Almanack de Gotha !' " " Oh, yes, sir!" replied Adolphe, " I have often seen it. But what has that book to do with the business which has brought me here ? Surely I have not made myself understood." " Pardon me. Count Adolphe von Steinfeld ! You have made yourself very clearly understood ; and it is now necessary that I should make myself equally intelligible. Perhaps you are not aware that this volume, small as it is, contains not only the pedi- grees of all the reigning dynasties of the earth, but records also the names of all those noble persons who are in any way con- nected with them ? Both my own family, and that of the noble lady my wife, may boast of this honour ; and no man, as I had the honour of telling you before, can become the husband of my daughter, with my consent, whose family have not found a place HEEE." Count Adolphe looked at him steadily for a moment. Perhaps he was speculating upon the possibility of his being in jest; but if this idea occurred, it did not last ; for this moment being past, the young man thanked him for having spared him the annoyance of uncertainty, by the unconquerable nature of the obstacle to which he had referred ; and then, taking his hat from the table on which he had placed it, he made a low bow, and left the room. He paused for a moment in the great hall, to decide whether he should ask for his horse ... or for his friend, Eupcrt. At length, however, he decided upon the latter ; and having made his presence known by aid of the door-bell, he said he should be glad to see Mr. Rupert Odenthal, if he were at leisure to come to him. "The Herr Rupert is in the library, my Lord Count," replied the servant; "shall I show your Lordship thither?" " Kg !" replied the rejected lover, rather abruptly. "I wish to see him here, if he can come to me." On this, the servant disappeared, and Rupert obeyed the summons which had been conveyed to him, with as little delay as possible. FAMILY PllIDE. 117 " Can you walk with me part of my way home, Rupert ? " said Count Adolpbc. "If you can, I shall prefer Avalking, and will send a servant hither for my horse." " Certainly, I think I can walk with you," replied his friend; "but wait a moment, while I say one word to the baroness." "I had rather not wait here, my good friend," replied the Count, with a smile. "I will go walking on slowly towards home, and you will follow me, if you can." AYhereupon Eupert gave an assenting nod, and they parted ; but, within five minutes after, Adolphe heard a step behind him, whereupon he turned round, and in another moment the two friends were slowly proceeding together, linked arm-in-arm, the one speaking, and the other listening, in a way that showed them both to be very deeply interested in the subject-matter of the discourse. " Good day, Eupert ! " were Adolphe's first words. E-upert nodded his head in reply. "I am cured, Eupert," was Adolphe's second speech. "The devil you are!" was Eupert' s reception of this, uttered in a tone of dismay. "How much the devil may have to do with it, my good fiiend, I am not certain; but not much, I should think, for, altogether, the work is a good work, and I am my own man again." " Explain ! dear Adolphe, explain ! Do you mean to say that you are no longer in love with the Baroness Gertrude?" "Perhaps I begin to doubt if I ever was very much in love with the daughter of our thrice-noble neighbour; perhaps you are right, and that the fact of this unfortunate young lady's being the daughter of that insane old booby, is, and ought to be, reason good against any one being in love with her." " I never said so. Count," replied Eupert, in a tone of indig- nation. " I think her very charming, and I know her to be very excellent ; but one cannot — at least, / cannot — fall in love with the first pretty and good young lady that one sees. But this is all idle wandering. Do tell me, and in an intelligible manner, if you can, what has happened to you." " I will, if I ccui,^^ replied the Count; "and the condition is but reasonable ; for how is a man to make that appear intelligible in relation, which, when it occurred, had the very closest re- semblance to a sort of obscure insanity ? . . . But wait a moment, Eupert, and I will act the scene, and this will give you a clearer idea of what has just passed, than any narration of mine could 118 GEETHrDE; OE, do. . . . 1^0 w, then, just sit you down there, upon that fallen tree, and I will sit down upon this one. . . . You don't happen to have a book in your pocket, do you, Eupert?" *• The chances are in favour of it," replied the young librarian, laughing. "You know my vocation. Count! Some of them generally stick to me, if they happen to be small ; " and, so say- ing, he thrust his hand into his pocket, and drew thence a miniature edition of " La Fontaine's Fables." " Selected by Fate, on purpose to assist my exhibition! " cried Adolphe, seizing it. " Only you must be pleased to fancy it a great deal more thick, and a good deal more stumpy. So ! !N'ow, then, remember, if you please, that you are the enamoured Adolphe von Steinfcld, and that I am the noble Baron von Schwanberg." " Go on! " said E-upert, placing himself in the most touching attitude which the seat assigned him would permit, and assuming an expression of countenance admirably calculated to suggest the idea of a mental struggle between Love and Reverence, Hope and Fear. " Yes ! " exclaimed Adolphe, " that is the way I looked at him — at least, I hope so — for that is the way I intended to look. Eut, now, mark me ! I flatter myself that you perceive at once my utter contempt and indifference for you and your looks. My thoughts are here, sir ; here, in this sacred little stumpy volume, which is neither more, nor less, than the 'Almanack de Gotha,' and thus I declare my will. . . . No man shall ever marry my daughter^ ivith my consent, ivhose family have not found a ])lace herey Eupert sprung from his pathetic attitude, and indulged in a hearty burst of genuine laughter. ''Are you in earnest. Count ?" he said, when he recovered the power of speaking. " Most perfectly in earnest, my dear friend," replied Adolphe ; "and now, I presume," he added, "that you will not wonder at my not wishing to delay my departure from the castle longer than was absolutely necessary." " That you should wish to get out of his way, if only to enjoy the laugh which I have enjoyed now, I can easily understand; but not that you should so suddenly have recovered from your tender passion as to run away from the object of it." " My dear Eupert!" replied the young nobleman, very gi'avely, " I certainly think the Baroness Gertrude von Schwanberg a very beautiful girl j and moreover, I have fancied, right or wrong I FAMILY PPJDE, 119 scarcely know, that she was more really intellectnal, and more capable of being a rational companion, than any yonng lady I have yet seen. . . . But, be she what she may, my good friend, I would not take the daughter of that noble owl for my wife, if she were ten times more beautiful, and ten times more intelligent, than I thought her, when I galloped, with a lover's speed, towards Schloss Schwanberg this morning." ''You rather surprise me, Count Adolphe," replied Eupert, looking at him with very genuine astonishment. " I must confess that I am, except in theory, extremely ignorant of such matters ; but I certainly had fancied that a disappointment in love, was a much more serious aif air than you seem to make of it." " Well then, I suppose it was only a fancy, and not a passion. But, at any rate, it works me and irks me no longer. I tell yon I am cured, Eupert, and I am thankful ! All I regret is the sort of shyness which I fear may arise between me and that dear library yonder ; which means, being interpreted, that I shall not see so much of you, that I shall not be able to borrow so many books, and that I shall no longer have the refreshment of having freedom of thought justified, and made manifest, as you all seem to enjoy it there, without having the fear of priestly interference before your eyes. I am afraid I must lose all this, and I shall miss it greatly." "I do not see the necessity for your losing it," replied Eupert. " Were I in your place, I should recount the whole affair to the young lady's mamma, with precisely the same frankness that you have recounted it to me. She is a sort of second providence, in my estimation ; and I do not much think that anything could go on well, in our region, without her advice and assistance." "Do you not think that Gertrude must have told her what passed between us ? " " She may have done so, but I do not feel certain of it. The young baroness only referred you to her father, I think? " "Exactly so. She made no allusion to her mother," replied Adolphe. "And how do you mean to communicate to the young lady the rejection you have received from her father ? " said Eupert. "I don't very well know," replied his friend. "I am haK inclined to think," he added, " that she guessed what the result would be when she sent me to him." "And even if she did," replied Eupert, " I do not see that you can blame her for it. She would not have been acting properly, according to all your noble notions, if she had taken it upon her- 120 GERTRUDE; OR, self to reply eilaer yes or uo. jSTcitlier would she have mended the matter if she had referred you to her mother, for she would have known perfectly well that in that case her mother must hare handed you to her father. Such being the immutable ulti- matum in all such affairs." " Yes, Paipert, I know it as well as you do, and I am a fool in affecting to believe that the poor girl had any alternative. iS'ever- theless, I am a true man, and a wise one too, when I tell you that I am cured of my love-fit ; for I swear to you, by all that is beautiful, and all that is good, I would not consent to become the thrall and the son-in-law of this old Almanack, for all the plea- sure that beauty and wit united could bestow on me." " I am by no means surprised to hear you say so," returned Eupert, laughing, ''for mcthinks I can understand your feelings as Avcll as if I were a Count myself. Nevertheless, dear Adolphe, I still abide by my opinion, that in order to make this queer little affair of love, ancl the Almanack de Gotha pass off without any ulterior bad consequences, your best adviser will be found in the Earoness von Schwanberg. But here we must part, my good friend, or I shall leave myself no time to perform any part of the duty for which I receive wages, lodgings, and sustenance. Eut if you will come to the castle to-morrow morning, and enquire for the lady of the castle, I will undertake so to arrange matters, as may enable you to tell her all that has passed, and receive counsel from her unerring judgment as to the best method to be j)ursued in order to leave things as if the events of to-day and yesterday had not passed at all." " I will in all my best obey you, sir," said Adolphe, gaily. "Contrive to manage this for me, Eupert, and you shall be my great Apollo, for most truly can I assure you that I wish for nothina- more." Eupert had not undertaken more than he was able to perform. Tlis ever-kind patroness never threw any difficulties in his way when she perceived that he wished to consult her ; and within a couple of hours after the deeply-offended Count Adolphe liad received his dismissal from the baron, the baron's lady was made acfpr.iinted with all that had passed, save and except the private interview which had taken place between Gertrude and her father. Eut, as it happened, the omission of that one little scene produced neither obscurity nor imcertaintv in the mind of Madame von Scliwanberg. The drama went on perfectly Avell to its catastrophe without it. It certainly required some little effort on the part of the baroness to preserve her gxavity as she listened to the descrip- FAMILY TEIDE. 121 tion of the almanack scene ; and no little praise was merited en the part of Rupurt, for the tone of respectful solemnity with which he narrated it. Eut this moment of danger being happily got over by both parties, no difficulty whatever seemed to rest on the mind of the lady, as to the manner of bringing this foolish little affair to a conclusion, without leaving any very painful recol- lections of it behind. "If I understand you rightly, Eupert," said she, "Count Adolphe will be made aware, before I next see him, that you have acquainted me with all that has passed ? " "Assuredly," replied Eupert. " It is by his express desire that I have made this communication to yon, madam." "And the advice which I shall give him will be this," returned the baroness ; " I shall advise him immediately to obtain his very indulgent father's permission to travel for a month or two ; and, if he follow my advice, he will visit us all after he returns, as if he had totally forgotten that anything of the kind had passed. Of course, Gertrude has told me of his abrupt proposal to her, and of the very proper manner in which she referred him to her father. It is evident to me, that she is much more disposed to forget, than to remember this silly fancy of our young friend ; and I flatter myself, that Adolphe will easily be brought to follow her example." "Indeed, I hope so," said Eupert, very honestly, but without deeming it proper to avo\\ his knowledge that such was already the state of his mind. Nothing, in short, could be more rational on all sides than the manner in which this juvenile fancy was permitted to evaporate and be forgotten. There was but one feature in the business which at all puzzled the sagacity of Madame von Schwanberg ; she was a good deal perplexed to account for the baron's silence on the subject, and for some time she lived in daily dread of being summoned to a private interview, for the purpose of hearing of the very magnificent manner in which he had thought proper to ]"(jcct the splendid proposal which he had received from their high-born and very wealthy neighbour. Had she been aware that he avoided the subject himself, and had commanded his daughter to avoid it, from the fear that any discussion on the subject might have led to the discovery that the noble refusal, and still nobler manner of it, had not originally been his own suggestion, she would have understood his silence concerning it much better. 122 GEMilUDE; OE, CHAPTER XIX. The conversation between the Baroness von Schwan"berg and tlic Frail Odenthal, which was recorded some chapters back, had been forgotten by neither of them ; nor was it likely that it should be ; for they had both of them been deeply in earnest in the opinions they had then expressed; and though the subject had not been fully, nor even openly discussed, they had both made themselTes sufficiently understood to have each created a lasting feeling of sympathy and esteem in the other. But, to the regret of both, the intercourse so auspiciously began, and which seemed to promise so much mutual gi'atification and comfort, was suddenly and painfully checked by the earnest entreaty of Madame Odenthal' s last siu'viving sister, that, as her son no longer required her presence in order to ensure him a comfortable home, she would make her long-talked-of visit to England. As this letter, in addition to its earnest entreaties, brought also the pecuniary means of complying with them ; the good woman aroused her courage, and set otf for England. Once there, she soon reaped the reward of her exertions, by perceiving that her presence was indeed a comfort to the atiec- tionate relative she went to visit, and whose failing health certainly made her presence more useful there, than it could have been in the house of her brother Alaric, who since his nephew had been domiciled at the castle, had greatly less need of her usefulness than her invalid sister. The letters which passed between her and her son, were long and frequent ; and it was so evident from those of the young man, that the home he had found in the castle was in every way more advantageous than it could ever be in her power to make that of Eathcr Alaric, that the idea that it migJd he necessary for her to return for Kupert's sake, soon died away, and was forgotten. But though, in the case of her son, the weeks, months, and years, wore away Avithout bringing any probability that he was likely to lose his present asylum, and return to the humble roof of his uncle, the case was different with herself; the sister of Madame Odenthal died, bequeathing to her all she possessed, fa:mily teide. 123 "vvhich, althongli amoimting to no very large revenue, was enough to ensure her the same peaceful home which she had so . long enjoyed under the roof of Father Alaric, and with the additional comfort of being ahlc to remunerate him for it. The return of this very unassuming, hut very excellent woman, was hailed v/ith joy, not only by her brother and her son, but by that son's discerning patroness also, who welcomed her rather as a greatly valued equal, and friend, than as the mother of a dependent. I^or did Gertrude appear in any degree to have forgotten her ; they had been great friends before the departure of ]\Iadame Odenthal, and they became great friends again, immediately after her return. The situation of Madame de Schwanberg was in many respects a very singular one. She was a very great lady ; the mistress of a magnificent residence, of a large, attached, and profoundly obedient household ; and her noble lord and master was almost obsequious in his manners and address to her. Moreover, her highly-favoured and highly-esteemed protege, Eupert, contem- plated her as the most admirable human being that it was possible for nature to produce ; and better still, her dearly-loved child loved her in'return, even as she deserved to be loved Yet, with all this, the Baroness von Schwanberg had not one single human being within reach of conversation, to whom she did, or could with propriety, open her heart, upon subjects of the greatest importance and highest interest. Though of a Eoman Catholic family, and, until the period at which her early marriage took place, brought up according to the usual routine and discipline of that church, the Earoness von Schwanberg, in common with a vast number of quiet, meditative, reading people, was no more a believer in the Eoman Catholic religion, than in that of Johanna Southcote. Eut to a woman of sane judgment, placed in such a position as I have described hers to have been, the idea of proclaiming, and preaching a faith, in opposition to that professed by all around her, would have been a mischievous, as well as a vain attempt. She might have disturbed many spirits, without enlightening one; and if this very rational decision had not sufficed to keep her quiet, she would probably have been so from the habit she had naturally fallen into, from the peculiarities of her noble husband's conversational tone, of never uttering any opinions at all. She had indeed much to make this quiet course easy to her ; for in the first place she was a very great lady, and in the next, 124 geeteude; oe, she was rather a sickly lady ; and for one or both of these reasons, no one who had ever held the situation of confessor at Schloss tSchwanberg, from the time she was installed as its mistress, had ever troubled her about any ceremonies cither irregularly per- formed, or altogether forgotten. And, indeed, upon the doctrine that man and w^ife are one, it would not have been reasonable for the spiritual director of the castle to complain ; for its master delighted in ceremonies, as sincerely as its mistress contemned them ; and as her offences were only those of very unostentatious omission, while his merits were of a nature and style precisely the reverse, it had never been considered necessary to take any notice of her peculi- arities. But although thus quietly permitted to think and to believe for herself, she had often wished to find some friend who could think and believe with her ; and one great reason for her so wishing, arose from her doubts respecting the propriety of teaching Ger- trude to feel the fallacy of the religion, to the ceremonies oi which she had been accustomed. The Baroness Schwanberg was i)erfectly aware, that, despite the unity of truth, and the ever clear difference between right and wrong, there might be such a dilemma as a divided duty ; and, in truth, she felt that her own theories on the subject of religion were much better calculated to satisfy her own honest conscience, than to furnish a ritual for the guidance of her daughter. She was aware, too, that she was herself very profoundly ignorant of the value of the respective authorities upon which her own faith, and that of her husband, was founded ; and she shrunk from the awful responsibility of deciding for her child on so very moment- ous a subject. It is necessary so far to describe the state of Madame de Schwan- berg' s feelings on this subject, in order to make the pleasure she had felt from her brief communion with Madame Odenthal at all intelligible. She had no difficulty in perceiving that she was neither an ignorant, nor an ordinary-minded woman, and more- over it was very evident that she was an Exgltsh Protestant ; and all this was quite enough to make the solitary-hearted lady of the castle look forward to frequent companionship with her, with a degree of satisfaction which, considering her station, would have appeared to the baron, could he have been made aware of it, as an unmistakable symptom of insanity. But, unfortunately for his deeply disappointed wife, Madame Odenthal was summoned to her sick sister within so short a time FAZMILY rrjDE. 125 after this promising conversation had taken place, that all hopes of renewing" it seemed at an end. Her absence had lasted nearly fonr years, nevertheless the interval had not been long enough to have caused her to be for- gotten ; and it was with very genuine and cordial satisfaction that she was welcomed by the baroness when she came to enquire for her health, and to thank her for all the kindness which had been bestowed upon Eupert. There was now, to say the least of it, Cjuite as earnest a wish on the part of the lady of the castle to converse freely with the mother of its librarian, as there had ever been ; but even now^ this was not to be achieved without difficulty ; for, excepting w^hen Gertrude was riding with her father, the mother and daughter were rarely separated ; and as she might wish to converse on many points with her humble counsellor in a manner which might startle the still (ostensibly) Enman Catholic Ger- trude, it was quite necessary to her purpose that they should be tefe-d-tete. It was not long, however, before a severe illness which attacked the baroness, furnished only too good a reason for her entreating ^Madame Odenthal to make the castle her principle abode. A. violent cold, caught while taking shelter from a sudden storm in a barn, where she was exposed to a strong current of air, had attacked her chest ; and she was ordered by her medical attend- ants to confine herself during the winter to the warm dressing- room, upon which her own apartment opened. While submitting to this discipline, her malady seemed to abate, her cough become less troublesome, and the feverish symptoms less alarming; but although by no means of a complaining temper, she could not but confess, that the confinement was very irksome to her. Gertrude implored very earnestly that she might share her mother's retreat; but as both father and mother declared that this could, on no account, be permitted, excepting for a stipulated length of time every day; she consented to the regulation, on condition that Madame Odenthal were invited to take her place in the sick room, when she was herself absent. "If your papa approves it, my dear Gertrude, I will ^'ery willingly consent to this condition," replied the baroness; "she is very kind, and very gentle, and I shall like to have her with me extremely." " Then that settles the thing at once," replied the baron, with an air of great satisfaction. ' ' It is a very remarkable thing, my «.2o GEEinrDE; oe, Aqdlt lady," he continued, addressing the haroness, with a very condescending smile ; " but by some extraordinary pccnliarity of character, onr daughter never does propose auj- thing which docs not, on examination, prove to be exactly the best thing, nnder the circnmstances, that conld be proposed. I have no donbt, that 7'ace, and inherited talent, have a good deal to do with this ; and it is a species of especial blessing, for which we ought to be exceedingly thankful. Indeed, I am by no means certain that it would not be proper to cause Father Alaric to make allusion to it, either on the fete day of our daughter, or any other solemnity which — " "Indeed, papa, yon do not know half Madame Odenthal's good qualities yet!" exclaimed Gertrude, (who, like a "cliartered libertine" as she was, scrupled not to interrupt her gi'andiloquent papa now and then, when she fancied her mother would be spared something she did not like to hear therebv). "She knows so much ! And then her being an Englishwoman is such a great advantage to me ; for though mamma speaks it, I believe, quite as well as a native, I do not profit by it half so much as I ought to do. Eut it is more polite, you know, to address Madame Odenthal in her native language." *' There again ! " exclaimed the proud father ; "that is an idea quite worthy of a reigning prince, receiving an ambassador! " " Oh ! my dear papa ! That is exactly what I should like to do!" cried Gertrude, clasping her hands, and speaking with great energy. It would be impossible to do justice by description to the look of the baron as he gazed at her while she uttered this tirade. The reader may easily understand what was passing in her mind better than her mother could do ; for she, good lady, had never been initiated into Gertrude's mysterious passion for royalty, and for everything connected with, or approaching it. Eut her father, notwithstanding his constitutional slowness of comprehension, understood her thoughts perfectly, and in his heart of hearts, he breathed "Amen!" FAiULY PEIDE. 127 CHAPTER XX. The proposal made by Gertrude, that Madame Odcnthal should take up her residence at the castle, was immediately acted upon ; and evidently to the great satisfaction of all the persons con- cerned. The idea of being useful to the benefactors of her son, would have made a much less agreeable proposal welcome to Madame Odenthal herseK" ; and as to Eupert, he only felt that the state of things thus suddenly brought about, so completely realized all his fancy could have suggested, had that faculty been taxed to sketch what he could have most desired ; that he almost feared he was dreaming, and should wake, and find that " there was no such thins;." Gertrude, of course, was pleased, for the scheme was her own ; and as for the poor baroness, she felt that the gratification of the wish, so long delayed had come to her at a time when it was infinitely more valuable than it could have been at any other. But, notwithstanding all this measureless content on all sides, an event was threatening, and even fast approaching, which was prognosticated by none, save Madame Odenthal; and even by her it was anticipated as a calamity by no means likely to occur soon, but only as a too certain termination of the insidious malady she was watching. Eut it was the baron, whose astonishment appeared to be as great as it was possible his grief to be, at hearing that the consort of the reigning Schwanberg had actually departed this life before she had fully accomplished two-thirds of the age which he had abeady reached ! The only relief he found in this amazed state of mind, was from the conviction, which was the result of long meditation on the subject, that it was greatly more likely that his daughter, who so strikingly resembled him in the powers of her intellect, should resemble him also in longevity, than that she should unite her mother's physical weakness to his own intellectual strength. Having, by the force of reasoning, brought himself to this con- clusion, he determined to bear — and he did bear — his loss with every appearance of the most heroic philosophy. The brave -hearted, stalwart Hupert wept secretly, as even a 128 gekthude; ok, stout man may weep, who feels that he has lost a friend to whom the whole world could never, in his estimation, show an equal; and the young man's mother forgot her own grief, as she watched and comprehended his. Eut who can paint the feelings of the miserable Gertrude ? She meditated, day and night, upon her own condition, and felt that she was a wi'eck. The contrast between the characters of her father and her mother, would have taught her to feel, if nothing else had done so, the beautiful, the brilliant, the estimable, and the loveablc qualities of the latter. ►She felt too, that in her own nature, there was a leaven that might be likely enough, now she had lost her, to change all that was good within her, to somethiug greatly the reverse. These were points in her character which the influence of her mother had rendered comparatively harmless, but which poor Gertrude felt might master her, now that the re- straint was removed which had come in a shape too dear to be resisted; for she had loved, and hugged, the chain which had restrained her wilfulness, with too deep and true alfection to render it at all likely that she would ever break it. Eut now ! Without a metaphor, the poor girl trembled as she looked forward, and thought of all the perils which were likely to beset her. Her adoring father, her watchful companion, Madame Oden- thal, her kind friend Enpert, ay, and every servant in the castle, looked at her pale cheek and altered eye, and pitied her. Eut there was not one among them who had any true notion of the real state of her mind, or the degree in which she sutfered. They were, however, all right in one opinion, which the ex- perience (greater or less) of each enabled them all to form ; for they all consoled themselves by the conviction that this deptli of sorrow could not last for ever . . . "for, if it did," as the old housekeeper very justly observed, "the young lady must needs follow her mother to the family vault ; for nobody who knows anything about what could kill, or what could cure, would be fool enough to doubt that die she must, if she went on loug in that fashion." And Gertrude did not die ; for harvest does not follow seed- time with more benignant certainty, than that mysterious process takes place by which the sufiering caused by the death of those we love, is healed. There was, too, another power in action, by which Gertrude FAMILY PEIDE. 129 was greatly assisted in her efforts to resume her former occu- pations ; and this was a sort of self-esteem, or rather a longing for self-esteem, which she knew she could only obtain by con- quering the heart-sinking despondency which had beset her ; for, as her solitary musings most truly told her, it was not only the piercing grief for her mother's loss which had thus broken her spirit, but a selfish and cowardly feeling about her own Avelfare. "If, indeed," she inwardly exclaimed, " I am so utterly inca- pable of guiding myself, I am both unworthy to live, and unworthy to call myself her child. But, God help me ! I some- times think that I hardly know right from wrong ! " Once awakened, however, to the necessity of deciding this tremendous question for herself, her energy and her health returned ; and whatever blunders she might make, or whatever other risks she might run, that of prematurely entering the family vault was not among them. This amendment in her health and spirits did not take place without her being fully conscious of it ; and she rejoiced at it, not only as a relief from suffering, but as a proof that she was neither too weak nor too wilful to conquer a state of mind which she knew was pernicious to her welfare. Pretty nearly the first use that she made of her recovered acti- vity of mind, was to set about arranging such a- scheme for her domestic life as mioht ensure her that nearlv first of blessing's, a perfect command of her time, and yet surround her with such an appearance of domestic surveillance as might set gossip at defiance. But how was this to be achieved ? How was she to obtain the personal and intellectual freedom so indispensable to the happi- ness of such a mind as hers, and yet preserve the external appearance of living under the influence of such authority as a young girl of seventeen ought to acknowledge and submit to ? But, difficult as the question certainly was, her first thought solved it, though in a way that few besideS herself, if placed in the same situation, would have ventured to propose. Her first thought suggested the idea that, of all the persons she had ever seen, Madame Odenthal was the only one whom she should like to have with her, in the three-fold capacity of gover- ness, companion, and chaperon. When the humble position in which she had been accustomed to see Father Alaric's sister was considered on the one side, and the inordinate love of everything precisely the reverse which 10 130 geeteude; oe, constituted the master-passion of her father, was contemplated on the other, it is difficult to understand how she ever found courage to attempt so desperate an undertaking as the convincing the Baron von Schwanberg that the most proper person he could select to superintend the important business of completing her education, and, subsequently, the more important business still, of acting as her chaperon in society, was the quiet-looking Madame Odenthal. Eut the young Baroness Gertrude being veiy decidedly of opinion that she should prefer this arrangement to any other that suggested itself to her, she determined, without a moment's hesi- tation, that the attempt should be made. "WTiether the confidence she felt that she should succeed arose chiefly fi'om her knowledge of her father's character, or from the consciousness of her own, may be doubtful. It would be long to tell, and needless too, how she contrived to place the question before him, so as to make all that was really in favour of it convey to his mind not only its own rational weight, but with it an ingenious superstructure, speedily constructed after such a fashion as to touch his monomaniacal passion for being supreme. She painted, with an eloquence which positively made him shudder, the possible, nay, the probable airs of authority which such persons as were usually selected for such a situation were likely to assume ; and, at length, summed up her pleadings by saying, ''If you and I, my dearest father, were, in our characters and views of life, more like the generality of those we see around us, it would be well for us to select for this situation a person who might be supposed capable of adding dignity to our establishment ; but, as it is, it appears to me that all oui' dignity must emanate from OTJESELVES." There was something in the manner in which the young baroness spoke these words, as well as in the words themselves, which completely overpowered every objection. They seemed to find a thrice-repeating echo in his heart. In short, the cause was won ; and all that Gertrude had left to do, in order to have this important affair settled exactly in her own way, was to persuade Madame Odenthal to undertake the performance of duties for which she knew herself, poor, dear woman, to be most particularly unfit. But here again Gertrude proved herself equal to the perform- ance of a very difficult task, and she set about it, too, with considerable ingenuity, and with a variation in her method which FAMILY PKIDE, 131 proved her to possess considerable insight into other characters besides that of her father. "Nov Tvas she, on this occasion, under any necessity of affecting what she did not feel, which, to do her justice, was a great relief to her. She painted her own situation very nearly such as it really was, described the heavy charge which the loss of her mother had brought upon her, with equal truth and feeling, and concluded her appeal by quietly desiring her humble, but sym- pathising friend, "to paint to herself what her condition would be, if, upon her refusing the situation thus offered to her, her father should take upon himseK the task of choosing another to fulfil it. Both Gertrude and !Madame Odenthal, with equal propriety and good feeling, avoided all broad allusions to the peculiarities which might be likely to render his selection a source of suffering ; but she ended this appeal by saying, " Eemember what my mother was! Eemember how she loved me! — and remember, too, as- freshly as I do, how she loved you ! And having dwelt a little on these thoughts, refuse, if you can, to come between me and the suffering which must fall upon me, as the inevitable conse- quence of such refusal." The eyes of Madame Odenthal filled with tears, as she looked at, and listened to, her. "I am afraid you know, my dear," she replied, ''that I have not strength of mind enough to refuse you ; and, in truth, it is only my belief in your having greater firmness than myself, which can at all justify my yielding. It is you, dear child, who must teach me the way I am to go, and not I who must teach you. Of course, I am not alluding to any matters of importance, for, on such points, I do truly believe that there can never be any differ- ence of opinion between us. But it is concerning all matters of etiquette that you will find me so utterly ignorant as may, I fear, be very inconvenient to you." *'I have no doubt you are right, Madame Odenthal," replied Gertrude, very frankly. ''The probability of this inconvenience has not escaped me ; but having been very ceremoniously brought up myself, I have all the routine of ceremony at my fingers' ends ; and if you, my dear Madame Odenthal, will condescend to learn from me the recondite mysteries of entrances and exits, and when to walk forward, and when to walk backwards, and all the inge- nious varieties of bowings and bondings, from the angle which _ threatens absolute prostration, to the rapid little miniature dip, skilfully imitated from the graceful curtsey of a jointed doll, — if 10—^ 132 geetetjde; oe, you will first give your whole heart and intellect to this hranch of aristocratic learning, you will find all the rest extremely easy. You will have, indeed, to put your fingers in a particular angle at the distance of about an inch from your lips, and make them perform a sort of pantomimic manoeuvre, which means, by being interpreted, a vast variety of both courteous and affectionate greetings. But, in short, my dear, kind friend, if you do but love me well enough to put your common sense upon the shelf for a few moments, now and then, while I am exerting my some- what dormant energies in giving you lessons in the fijie arts, I have not the slightest doubt that we shall both of us be admired as most distinguished individuals, wherever we go." There was really as much truth as playfulness in all this ; and when the grateful and kind-hearted Madame Odenthal had once made up her mind to believe that by accepting the situation offered to her, she might really contribute to the comfort of the motherless Gertrude, there were no more difficulties to be con- quered. Gertrude very faithfully kept her promise, and became an admirable mistress of forms and ceremonies; and, as the tall slight form of Madame Odenthal, and her fine features, were happily the reverse of everything described by the tremendous epithet, milgar-Joolcing, the wilful heiress not seldom congratulated herself upon the undaunted courage she had displayed in venturing to select for her chaperon, one of the very last people in the world, whom any one living in the world (but herself,) would have thought of installing in such an office. And yet, it is very possible that she selected the only person who could have filled it, without becoming, in some way or other, an annoyance to her. CHAPTER XXL The clever train of argument by which the young baroness had contrived to convince her father that he assuredly had the power of making any one great, whom it was his will to declare so, had proved very perfectly satisfactory; but nevertheless he was, as he privately confessed to his daughter, a good deal surprised at FAMILY PEIDE. 133 the appearance of Madame Odenthal, on the first occasion that he saw her officiate in full di'ess, as her companion and dame de compagnie. The moniTiful period of strict domestic seclusion being over, Gertrude, who knew her father well, had determined to profit by this first occasion, in order at once to produce the efi'ect which she felt might be of so much serious importance to her future comfort. The baron had invited a rather large party of noble neighbours, in honour of the highly distinguished guest of one of them, who had favoured the neighbourhood with his presence, for the purpose of enjoying the field sports for which it was celebrated. As Gertrude had no intention of introducing Madame Odenthal as a relative, there was no occasion for her being in mourning ; but nevertheless the young lady in selecting her dress, the choice of which was referred with laughing indiflerence wholly to her, decided that she should wear black velvet, which, though not mourning, might pass as that of a distant connection, or very intimate family friend. If Gertrude had been an artist, she could not have di'essed her friend with more successful effect. In a word, the wilful girl being determined that nothing should be wanting to produce the effect she desired, had contrived to make the poor, but still very handsome widow, look exceedingly like a somewhat reserved, but very pleasing woman of fashion. In order to avoid the possibility of her father's betraying any inconvenient feeling of astonishment on first beholding the meta- morphosis thus produced, Gertrude had contrived that the baron should be in her dressing-room when Madame Odenthal, according to promise, entered it in full costume, in order to know if the final arrangements of Teresa were approved. The old gentleman's first movement was to rise from his chair, and make her a profound bow ; but his next, which was produced by her venturing to smile as she perceived his mistake, was to stagger back to his chair, very much as he might have done if she had pushed him into it. He speedily recovered himself, however, and as he was not a man to be long awed by the aspect of any nobility only accorded by Heaven, he said to his daughter, without any sort of cere- mony, **I should wish to speak with you alone, my dear Ger- trude." Whereupon Madame Odenthal glided from the room with the very least delay possible. 134 geeteijde; oe, ''Upon my word, my love, this is one of the most extraordi- nary things that I ever rememher to have witnessed," said he. ' ' It certainly is very extraordinary ! Yery extraordinary indeed ! I am quite aware that I have influence, my dear Gertrude, but I will frankly confess to you, my child, that I had no idea, till you pointed it out to me, of the sort of influence which it is evident I possess upon the appearance and manners of those who approach me." "You see then, that I was right, papa, about Madame Oden- thal. I felt quite sure that if you placed her in the situation she now holds in your family, a very short time would suffice to make her, both in manner and appearance, all that you would wish her to be." *' You were right in so thinking, Gertrude," he replied, with great solemnity; ''and I have no doubt, my dear," he added, "that you were also right in the reason you gave for thinking so. You said, as I well remember, that I ought to be the source of dignity to those around me, and not to receive it from them." " Yes, papa, and I think so still," replied his daughter, gravely. Thus far everything had succeeded so perfectly according to the wishes of the young lady, that there really seemed to be some danger of her following her father's example, and fancying that her will was to be law in all things. There was still, however, one more experiment to be made, before she could feel quite certain that her self-willed con- trivances respecting the station which she wished Madame Oden- thal to fill, would be approved by her son. Eupcrt had never yet seen his gentle mother robed in black velvet, and looking like a duchess ; and she had some slight doubts as to his approving for her, what seemed to have so near an approach to child's play. It was therefore not quite without a little nervous agitation that she awaited an occasion of this first dinner party, the moment of his entering the drawing-room. She might have spared herself this annoyance, if it was one, by having contrived that he, as well as the baron, should see her in her robes of office in private. But, for some fanciful reason or other, Gertrude did not choose this, and, on the contrary, had made Madame Odenthal promise that she would carefully avoid his doing so. It was not therefore till he entered the drawing-room, after the last guest had arrived, on the day I am describing, that this wonderful metamorphosis met his eye. At the first glance he positively did not know her. He only FAMILY PEIDE. 135 saw before him a very handsome, middle-aged lady of fashion ; but when she met his gaze, he felt that it was his mother who smiled upon him, and he certainly felt also, that any man might be proud of such a mother. And then his eye glanced, almost inToluntarily, from her to the young baroness. The glance which he met in return, seemed sparkling with a sort of happy triumph which was quite unintelligible, unless this wondi'ous change was her own work. Gertrude had not intended that he should discover this, and had hinted as much to Madame Odenthal, who, on her part, had kept her promise of secrecy very faithfully, considering it only as a playful whim. But though Madame Odenthal was faithful to her, she was not faithful to herself; for her sparkling eye, her brilliant colour, and her involuntary, but most radiant smile, revealed the secret. Thus much it is easy to tell ; but it is less so to explain why his discovery of its being the will, or whim, of the heiress of Schwanbcrg, to render his mother the most distinguished-looking person in the society, should produce so gTeat a change in all his own feelings towards her. The philosophical part of the world tell us, that we are all of us what circumstances make us ; and this is true, if we go far enough back to look for the circumstances : but in the case of Gertrude, it was scarcely needful to go farther back than her own birth. Her mother was a very admirable person in many ways ; and Eupert was quite sufficiently aware of this, to think it highly probable that Gertrude, also, would turn out to be an admirable person in many ways. But, on the other hand, he was equally well aware of what her father was ; and the occasional uncertainty of temper and demeanour, which he had for some time remarked in the great man's heiress, was easily, he thought, accounted for, by her equally near relationship to him. But he found it very difficult to bring this theory to bear upon the whim which had now seized her. That there was a strong mutual attachment between Gertrude and his mother, there could be no doubt. During the whole period of the baroness's illness, the thoughtful kindness with which each had sought to spare fatigue and suffering to the other, had been marked by him with equal pleasure and admi- ration. But her insisting upon it, that his mother should be 136 geeteube; oe, made to look like a ductless, could have notlnng to do with such feelings as were manifested then. This new whim, certainly, was very puzzling ; nor was the effect upon himself less so. Why did he now, for the first time, discover that his friend, Adolphe Steinfeld, was right, in thinking the eyes of Gertrude not only more beautiful than those of her lovely mother, but very decidedly more beautiful, also, than those of the nymph of the fountain, or of any other nymph that benignant nature had ever created to embellish the earth ? It was a thrilling, and a very strange sort of sensation which shot though his heart, as the new-born doubt arose in his mind as to his long established belief, that Gertrude mherited her father^s pride. *' Can I have been mistaken? Can I always and for ever have ^been mistaken ? " was a question which, though only propounded by himself, produced a very powerful effect upon his spirits. The party which was assembled that day at Schloss Schwan- berg was rather a brighter one than usual ; for it so chanced that one of the baron's noble neighbours had with him a newly- married young couple, as guests, who were well calculated to embellish and enliven any party. The bridegroom was French, and the bride English ; and it had but seldom happened in that very noble neighbourhood that an evening was passed with so near an approach to social enjoyment. Though the English bride spoke French with tolerable facility, she freely confessed, that she greatly preferred speaking English ; and upon hearing ^Madame Odenthal address her son in that language, she immediately placed herself beside her, and smilingly hailed her as a country-woman. It is probable that people of all lands speak their own language more gracefully than any other ; and the English stranger, who was herself too lovely not to be an object of attention, soon made Madame Odenthal share this honour with her; for the bride seemed very greatly to enjoy the pleasant lanrj sj/ne recollections of her early English days, concerning scenes which the elder lady could report of quite freshly, from having visited them more recently. While this was going on in one part of the room, the husband of the beautiful bride was vaunting with great energy in another, the extraordinary beauty of his lady's voice, boldly declaring, that she had no reason to shrink from competition either with the voices of Germany or of Italy. AYhereupon, the young baroness FAMILY PEIDE. 137 Gertrude so earnestly expressed her hope that she would kindly place herself at the excellent pianoforte, which stood ready for use in the middle of the room, that the proud bridegroom could not resist the temptation of insisting upon it that she should do so, and sing a certain English song, which, as he said, had greatly contributed to the good work of converting her into a French wife. The pretty bride, who was really as free from all sorts of affec- tation as it was well possible for a pretty bride to be, made but a feeble resistance, and concluded her smiling remonstrance by saying, that if !Madame Odenthal would sit by her, she would consent ; for that she had a sad trick of forgetting the words of a song, and that in such a case she could only hope for help from a country-woman. So saying, she passed her arm under that of the dame de com- 2)((gnie, and they proceeded together to the pianoforte. Her enamoured young husband had really said very little more in praise of her singing than it deserved ; and she performed the song he asked for, not only in very good style, but without requiring the aid of her country-woman to prompt her. The usual effect of such a performance, of course, followed, and Madame de Hauteville was earnestly entreated to sing again ; and then, the genuine love of music being strong within her, she declared herself quite ready to sing again, provided some one else would sing also. AYhereupon, Gertrude playfully and gracefully offered her services ; and though her performance was by no means equal in excellence to that of her giiest, it was good enough to deserve, and receive applause, as well as to justify the eager claim for another song, from Madame de Hauteville. "Do you ever sing English, dear baroness?" demanded the bride. **Alas ! no," answered Gertrude. *' I wish I did ! " " I wish so too, my dear, as in that case we might manage a duet together," replied Madame de Hauteville. " Is there no- body," she added, turning to Madame Odenthal, who was standing near her; ''is there nobody here who could manage to sing this with me?" pointing, as she spoke, to a page which she had opened in a miscellaneous volume of music, which lay on the pianoforte. Gertrude only anwered by dolefully shaking her head ; but Madame Odenthal smiled, and looked towards her son, who, with several others, Avas standing near the instrument. The lively English lady caught the smile, and immediately interpreted it. 138 GERTEUDE'; OE, ''That gentleman sings, does he?" said she. ''Then pray present him, and I will try to persuade him to sing this duet with me." I^ow it so happened, that during the whole of Eupert's long residence at the castle, nobody in it had ever heard him sing — for nobody in it had ever asked him to do so ; but the fact was, that he had not only great love for music, but he had also a very fine voice, and though with little science, possessed sufficient taste to enable him to sing very charmingly. His priestly uncle was, in the sacred line, a very good musician also, and possessed, German-like, a very tolerable pianoforte, by the help of which, he had not only taught his young parishioners to sing abundance of canticles, but had made his nephew a very tolerable musician. As neither his mother, however, his uncle, nor himself, had ever conceived the idea that this very ordinary rational faculty could be of any essential use to him, he had been rather permitted, than encouraged to indulge it ; and excepting occasionally in the long- day season, when he rose with the lark, he had rarely profited by the remote situation of the library, in which Gertrude's practising piano stood, in order to indulge himself by the sound of it. But, notwithstanding all this well-behaved prudence, Eupert loved music quite well enough to enjoy exceedingly this very novel mode of passing an evening in the stiff drawing-room of Schloss Schwanberg. IS'evertheless, he was a good deal startled by Madame de Haute ville's abrupt demand upon him, and for a moment scarcely knew how to answer her. The baron, indeed, was so completely occupied in explaining to the nobleman of the highest rank in the company the manner in which he administered the territorial laws of the domain around him, that Eupert was quite aware that he ran no risk of offending him, either by grant- ing or refusing the request so eagerly made to him. Eut the idea that either his mother, or Gertrude, should think he blundered in his manner of replying to this very unexpected demand, was annoying. If the thing had happened the day before, it would have been the eye of his mother that he would have sought, in order to ask for counsel ; but now it was not to her, but to the young baroness that his first glance was directed ; and the appeal was answered by a look of such radiant satisfaction, and bright encouragement, that he had bowed his consent almost before he knew what he was doing. So no more time was lost ; the duet was performed in very FAMILY rEIDE. l39 spirited and excellent style, and rewarded by tlie applause it deserved. There is nothing, perhaps, which in mixed society tends so promptly to produce a tone of intimacy between persons otherwise strangers to each other, as music. Where the love of it is genuine, its attraction is quite strong enough to overpower many of the little repulsive etiquettes which stand in the way of easy inter- course with new acquaintance ; and such was decidedly, and very pleasantly, its effect on the present occasion. The evening, instead of being extremely dull, was extremely agreeable. Carriages, greatly to the astonishment of their coach- men, were made to wait, nor did the party permit themselves to separate till arrangements had been made for their speedily coming together again. The only effect which all this was likely to produce on the Earon von Schwanberg, was an unwonted degree of fatigue ; and such would very decidedly have been the case, had not the sensa- tion of sleepiness been overpowered by the astonishment he felt at being addressed by some of the most distinguished among his guests, with earnest petitions to name an early day for returning their visit, and doing them the especial favour of inducing Madame Odenthal and her son to accompany him and his daughter. Had the astonishment of the baron been a little less over- powering, there can be little doubt that his reply would have politely, but solemnly, communicated the interesting information, that Madame Odenthal being his daughter's hired companion, would certainly (with their permission) accompany her ; but that her son, Mr. Rupert, being only his librarian and secretary, he could not think of taking such a liberty. But he was far from being sufficiently in possession of his usual share of comprehension, to be capable of saying anything of the kind; all he could do was to stand in an attitude of graceful dignity, with his heels together, and his right hand spread upon his breast. His silence, however, was construed into a most amiable assent ; one or two early days were named by the different peti- tioners, which the young baroness was eagerly entreated not to forget, and so they parted — the well-pleased guests declaring that it was the pleasantest day they had ever passed at Schloss Schwanberg, and the entertainers feeling more disposed to retire to their respective apartments than to remain together for the purpose of discussing all that had passed. 140 geetetde; ob, " Good riiglit, papa ! " was all that Gertrude said, preparatory to her leaving the room. The words seemed to rouse the baron from a state that consi- derably resembled a dream ; and being thus roused, he contrived to say, ''Gertrude! come to me to-morrow morning, for a few minutes, before breakfast. I wish to speak to you." " Yes, papa, I will," was her dutiful reply ; and having uttered it she glided out of the room, followed by her dame de compacjnie. Piupcrt had politely attended the departing ladies to their carriages, and did not again make his appearance in the drawing- room. CHAPTEE XXII. FAiinrrL to her promise, Gertrude failed not to make her appearance on the following morning, precisely at the time and place at which she knew her father would be expecting her. His heavy, handsome features wore the look of finn-set self-import- ance, which was, indeed, the only expression, excepting that of weariness, which they were capable of assuming. "Good morning. Baroness Gertrude," he said, awaiting her approach with an extended hand. "It is always a pleasure to me to see you, my dear, but particularly so just now, when so remarkable an instance has occurred to justify the opinion you lately expressed to me, concerning our present domestic arrange- ments in the drawing-room." For a moment Gertrude employed herself in drawing forward a chair ; an operation to which she gave too much attention to permit her looking in her father's face, as she replied, "I thought you would be pleased, papa, at the brilliant manner in which every thing went off yesterday." " Of course, my dear, of course," he replied, with a stiff incli- nation of the head, that seemed intended for a complimentary bow. " There could be no doubt, I should hope," he continued, "that an entertainment given at my house, and at which myself and my daughter presided, would be a brilliant one. But the subject upon which I i)articularly wished to speak to you now^ relates to other matters. You are certainly a very clever young FAMILY PEIDE. 141 lady, and possess a power of observation which I have no doubt is hereditary. Eut nevertheless it is scarcely possible, my dear, that you can, at your age, have arrived at that steady sort of observation which I now possess, and which you yourself already possess in no common degree, as you proved to me a month or two ago, upon an occasion which has, in fact, led to the results upon which I now wish to speak to you." Gertrude Avas sitting at no great distance from the fire, the heat of which appeared to be oppressive to her ; for almost with- out waiting till her father reached a full stop, she left her chair, in order to take from a distant table a newspaper, which she seemed to fancy would be useful to her as a screen. "Pray, my dear, sit still!" said the baron. ''I should not have desired you to come to me at so early an hour, had I not something of importance to say to you .... Do you remember telling me, Gertrude, at the time to which I allude, that the persons whom I permit to be habitually about me, ought to be such as would derive distinction from me, and not such as could, or might fancy they could, bestow it ? " "Oh! yes, papa! I remember our conversation quite well,", replied Gertrude, appearing to find great relief from her news- paper. " And yet, my dear, though this very just and proper way of thinking must have come into your head naturally, and merel}', as I take it, on account of your being my daughter, I don't believe that your thoughts, clever as they were, ever made you expect to see what you witnessed yesterday. Did they, Ger- trude ? " " ]^ot exactly, papa," she replied. "But you know," she added, after the pause of a moment, ' ' you know that when one mentions an idea, as I did to you in the conversation you refer to, it is only for the sake of expressing an opinion, and can have no reference to any particular circumstance," " Of course, my dear, of course. I don't mean to say that you could have known beforehand anything about Madame de Haute- ville. AYhat I mean is, that, with all your natural family clever- ness, I don't think you could have ever expected to witness such a strange scene as you beheld at the pianoforte yesterday. Did you, my dear ? " said the baron, looking at her very earnestly. Gertrude was at that moment in greater danger of seriously offending her father than she had ever been before in the whole course of her life, for she certainly did appear to be reading Bomethiug in the newspaper. Fortunately, however, she raised 142 geetrtjde; ob, her eyes, and perceived the indignant look that was fixed upon her, and which, doubtless, was like the lightning which precedes thunder — only a prelude to the voice of the storm. '' You puzzle me by your question, dear papa!" she exclaimed, with great quickness ; *' and I really scarcely know how to answer you. How could I, you know, before I had ever seen Madame de Hauteville — how could I guess the sort of impression the manners and appearance of Madame Odenthal were likely to pro- duce upon her ? N'evertheless, I certainly had a general idea, that if you chose to patronise yoiu' secretary's mother, all your acquaintance would think they were doing themselves honour by following your example." These calming words produced the desired effect ; the baron not only bent his head as a token that he acquiesced in her theory, but he almost smiled, as he added: " And not only his mother, but himself too, my dear Grertrude. Did you ever see anything so ridiculous as the fuss they made about him ? How- ever, tliat is their affair, you know, and not mine ; and I cannot deny that there is something very agreeable in seeing such really distinguished people as those who were here last night, one and all of them, ready to fight for the honoui' and gratification of receiving a poor unknown boy at their houses, and his mother too, merely because I have thought fit to patronise them ! " *' Yes, papa, it is gratifying," replied Gertrude, with that sort of quiet earnestness with which we acknowledge the feelings of which we may justly feel proud. "I do assure you, my dear," resumed the baron, very solemnly, ''that nothing can be farther from _my heart, and from my cha- racter, than any wish to tyrannise over the society around me, many of whom, I am quite ready to allow, are of very true and piu'e nobility ; but, nevertheless, I see no reason whatever why I should disdain the sort of homage which they all seem ready to pay me ; and it is, therefore, my decided purpose to accept the eai^nest invitations we received last night, including in our family party, those, whose abode in my mansion has apparently ennobled, sufiiciently to justify their being included in it." In this, Gertrude very quietly acquiesced, merely observing that it was exactly what she expected from him, and that she quite agreed with him in thinking that he owed it to himself to sustain the dignity of the position in which it was evident his neighbours considered him to stand. The immediate consequence of all this was, a few weeks of more frequent and more lively meetings than had recently taken FAMILY PEEDE. 143 place in the neighbourhood; and -when the conclusion of the sporting season arrived, and dispersed them nearly all in search of metropolitan gaiety, in some land or other, the Baron von Schwan- berg had acquired such a decided relish for the enlarged field of influence which, he fully believed, he had been enjoying, that, after secretly ruminating upon the subject for a quiet (not to say dull) week or two, he suddenly told his daughter that, having deeply considered the subject, he had come to the resolution of taking her to Paris. The first efi'ect of this very unexpected news on the heiress of Schwanberg was to make her suddenly look very pale; but before her father had time to be alarmed at this, her varying complexion changed again, and her colour became much brighter than usual ; but she remained silent. *' Why do you not reply to what I have said to you, Gertrude? " said the baron, somewhat sternly. " Because I was too much surprised, I believe, papa," she said ; but she said it with so bright a smile, that he smiled too, as he added: "But I flatter myself that you are as much pleased as surprised, my dear." "And more too, papa, if such a scheme should be really possi- ble! " she replied. "And why should you feel any doubt on the subject, Baroness Gertrude? Am I not generally found to be capable of doing- whatever it is my will to do?" said he, with a sort of stern dignity, which made her feel that the subject was not a jocose one. "Oh, yes! dear papa," she replied, with eagerness; "I am quite sure that if you choose to execute such a scheme, you will not only do it, but do it well. But, of course, there will be a great many things to be thought of and arranged, before such a journey can be taken. It won't do for you, papa," she continued, very gravely, and fixing her eyes upon the ground, "it will not do for you and me to go flying about the country quite like ordinary people. We must, of course, be attended by something like a sicite.^^ "Of course we must, Baroness Gertrude," he replied, raising himself into the most dignified of sitting attitudes. ' ' You cannot suppose that I have forgotten this. It may do very well for the De Hautevilles, who really are very elegant, fashionable-looking young peojile, to travel about, as I dare say they do, with a lady's- maid for his wife, and a valet for himself; but that won't do for ns, Gertrude." 144 gekteude; oe, ** Certainly not, sir," returned the young lady, with a look almost as diguified as his own. "As to your personal attendants," he continued, '' I shall make no objection whatever to j'our taking a second, if you think Teresa alone will not be sufficient." ''Thank you, dear papa! Teresa is a very good girl, but I don't want two of them," rejilied Gertrude, endeavouring not to smile ; " but when you talk of a suite, I am sure you do not mean ladies' -maids and footmen." "Oh dear, no! — certainly not — certainly not!" returned the baron, eagerly. "Madame Odenthal, of course, will be one of our suite, my dear." "Of course, papa," she replied, quietly; "for, at my age, it would be quite impossible that I should appear in company with- out her." "Obviously so — obviously!" returned the baron, raising his hand with an action which was meant to signify that this question was settled, and might be dismissed. Gertrude bent her head in acquiescence, and said no more. The baron, too, was silent ; but it was evident that he intended to say more upon some subject or other, because, upon his daugh- ter's making a slight movement, which he thought indicated an intention of leaving him, he shook his head, and made an expres- sive signal to her with his forefinger, which evidently meant that she was to stay where she was. After this, her moving was, of course, out of the question, and she prepared herself to wait patiently for what was to follow. The interval was not a very long one, though it seemed so, for he presently said : "And about myself, Gertrude. I really want your opinion, my dear, as to whom it would be most proper for me to take, by way of a gentleman attending upon my person. I will confess to you that I should not like this office to be filled by a mere stranger, for I have constantly observed through life, that the deference and respect which I wish to inspire, and which are so unquestionably my right, are not always felt at once by strangers when they first approach me. Such feelings are natur- ally the result of knowing me as I really am." "I can understand that, papa, perfectly," replied Gertrude. "I have no doubt you do. You are too clever, too much a Schwanberg, too much my own dear child, to be at a loss how to interpret it," replied her father, affectionately. "And this being the case," he continued, "it makes the task of obtaining such a person as I want rather difficult. It is absolutely necessary, you FAillLY PEIDE. 145 know, that lie should have the appearance of a gentleman, as otherwise I should not be able, or, at any rate, I should not be willing, to let him follow me into the salons of any noble persons with whom we may become acquainted." "Certainly not," replied Gertrude, with decision, and in the tone of one who knew perfectly well what they were talking about. ''I was sure you would agree with me, my dear, quite sure of it. But now then, you will observe," pursued the baron, "that our power of choice is very limited. lu fact, my dear child, I can at this moment recollect only two persons who would be in any way proper to fill the office." " Two ? " repeated Gertrude, looking up at him with an aspect of considerable astonishment. "You misunderstand me, my dear," resumed her father. "I do not mean that I wish to have two gentlemen following me everywhere, as a necessary part of my suite, but that I know only of two from which my selection can be made." Gertrude bowed, in token that she understood him. "Xow the first who presents himself to my mind, is my con- fessor." "Father Alaric ! " exclaimed Gertrude, almost with a voice of dismay, ' ' Yes, my dear. I think Father Alaric would do extremely well. A priest, you know, is, or ought to be, always a gentle- man ; and Father Alaric is both too observant of my wishes, and too quiet in manner, to be likely to expose himself to any unpleasant observations." Gertrude remained silent for a moment, and then replied; ""^Yhat you say of Father Alaric personally, is perfectly just, dear papa. But do you not think, that your thus keeping your confessor in constant personal attendance, may suggest a suspicion that you may be one of the busy noblemen who wish to meddle too much with the subject of religious doctrine? If you were the Pope himself, you could hardly do more ; and even if you were a Cardinal, I think such very close attendance of your con- fessor, might create more attention, and more suspicion, too, in a foreign court, than I think you would find convenient." " llercy on me!" exclaimed the terrified baron, his face becoming crimson; "how on earth could I for a single moment overlook so obvious an objection? Of course, my darling child, you are right ! A man of my rank and station, will be watched as keenly as a reigning prince, ^o, no, I will have no priest in U • 146 gehtetjde; oe, my train. You are quite right, Gertrude ; I might have the eyes of all Europe upon me, while I was only thinking of your amuse- ment, my dear child, and of the best way of finding a suitable alliance for you." *' Indeed, my dear father, I very truly rejoice at your having avoided this peril," returned Gertrude, rising. ''But I dare say you have many other things to think of, and I shall only inteiTupt you by staying here." '' But, Gertrude ! you forget that we have not yet settled who is to be my suite. Pray don't go away till that point is decided." Gertrude quietly reseated herself, and sat in act to hear. "Cannot you think of any body, my dear child, who might be able to fill this office, and yet give us no trouble whatever ? I do assure you it would be a great relief to me, if you could think of such a person." ''Indeed, papa," she replied, "I would, with the greatest readiness, immediately endeavour to do so, did I not feel that no one but yourself could name him with propriety. Who is there but yourself, dear papa, who could at once be a judge whether the person and manners of any one proposed, were such as could justify your permitting him to attend upon you in society ? And also, which is equally important, whether you can yourself submit to his attendance upon you without experiencing any feeling of annoyance." "Eight again, my dear! " returned her father, looking highly pleased ; "I really think that, somehow or other, you are always right, Gertrude. It certainly is quite true, my dear child, that nobody can judge of my own comfort so well as I can myself; and I don't scruple to say, that the handsome, well-behaved young fellow, who saved your life about half-a-dozen years ago, by dragging you out of the water, is just about the best-behaved and least disagreeable sort of young man that I ever remember to have seen. But nevertheless, my dear child, though young- Bupert was certainly one of the two that I just now mentioned as the most eligible I could think of, I would by no means insist upon it, if any other person occurred to you whom you thought more fitting." Gertrude listened to him very attentively, and after silently meditating on the question for a minute or two, replied ; " I really doubt if you could choose better, sir. He has turned to very good account the opportunities which your patronage has afforded him, and I should suppose that he would be considered in any good society as a wcU-buhaved and well-informed young man." FAMILY PEIDE. 147 *' You have expressed yourself extremely well, Gertrude, as indeed you always do. He certainly is an exceedingly well-be- haved young man. ISTor can we be much surprised at that, my dear, when we recollect how frequently he has been permitted to converse with me, I may almost say with familiarity. In short, upon the whole, I doubt, as you say, w^hether I could choose better. And then we have the advantage of already knowing that he is one of those who is capable of being in some sort ennobled, as it were, by my influence. It is quite certain, as I am fully aware, as well as yourself, my dear child, that I cannot receive honour from those about me, although I can, fortunately, confer it ; and therefore his being of humble birth is really of no consequence." "None," said Gertrude, with an acquiescent bow. *'AYell then, my dear," resumed the baron, evidently relieved from considerable anxiety, "all that remains for us to do now, I think, is to decide upon what office I can assign him. "We must not call him Eupert any more, you must remember that ; he must always be Monsieur Odenthal ; and I think it would be as well to insert de before it, Gertrude, both for him and his mother. Madame de Odenthal, and Monsieur de Odenthal, really sound very well, and they, of course, could make no objection." " On this point, I think you may do exactly what you like, papa," replied Gertrude, gravely. " To them the difi'erence would not appear very material." "Less so, than to us, I dare say, poor things! " returned the baron, gently shaking his head. "Eut we have not yet settled," he resumed, "what office we are to assign him, my dear Ger- trude. It will be necessary, will it not, to explain why he is in my suite?" "He is your secretary, papa," replied his daughter, looking as if a little surprised at the question. ' ' I believe few persons in your distinguished position, ever travel without a secretary." The baron gazed at her, as he very often did, with a mixture of surprise and admiration, and after the silence of a moment, he said, " I know that it is quite a common observation to say, that children resemble their parents, but I really do think, my dear, that your resemblance to me, has something more than common in it ; I mean in the way in which you understand everything, more even than in your fine regular features. But then, there is another observation that I make too, Gertrude," he added, with a paternal smile, " and it is that, though your thoughts and mine almost always turn out to be the same in the end, they always 11—2 148 GERTRUDE; OR, come into your head first. But I suppose, my dear, this is owing to your being younger. It is, I dare say, just the same thing as if we were running down the terrace walk together ; you would be sure to do it quickest, you know." "At least we have the comfort of knowing, dear papa, that we shall arrive at the same point at last," she replied. But now she had gone too fast for him, for he looked puzzled, as he said, ''about getting to the end of the terrace, do you mean, my dear?" GertiTide bent her beautiful head in reply, and after the silence of a moment, said, "iS'ow then I think we have settled every- thing. I must go and talk to ILadame Odenthal about it." "Z>^ Odenthal, if you please, Gertrude," returned the baron, very solemnly; ''I really must insist upon the persons of my suite being treated with the respect which ought to attach to them." CHAPTEE XXIII. It is quite unnecessary to linger any more on the preliminaries of this spirited expedition, the suddenness of which seemed some- what startling to Madame Odenthal ; but for some reason or other, which it might be difficult very clearly to explain, the sort of en- dearing and almost filial confidence with which Gertrude treated her well-beloved companion, was not quite unlimited. Xay, occasionally, there was something so like caprice in the young lady's manner of treating her, that it required all the genuine afi'ection which Madame Odenthal felt for the motherless girl, to jDrevent her feeling estranged and offended. But it was no very easy thing for Madame Odenthal to remain long ofi'ended with Gertrude. There was so much that was essen- tially good, and so much that was irresistibly attaching about her, at least, in her intercourse with her chaperon, that, despite all her little mysterious caprices, this kind-hearted dame de com- licignie loved her very afi'ectionately. Nevertheless, the worthy governante could not well help con- templating with something like astonishment, the extreme FAMILY PEIDE. 149 indifference with whicli this young girl appeared to contemplate the change which awaited her, from the stiff, unchanging state- lincss of her father's remote castle, to the brilliant and dazzling dissipation of the French capital. This indifference would have been much less sui^prising, had Gertrude been ignorant of the vast difference between the life she had hitherto led, and that upon which* she was about to enter ; but, as Madame Odcnthal well knew, it would have been difficult to find among the most diligent readers of Paris and London, any young lady better acquainted with the most lively representations of their manners, than Gertrude. 'No indecencies of any kind, cither social or religious, had ever been permitted to find their way into the library of the truly refined Madame de Schwanberg ; but, excepting on these points, no restraint had ever been put upon the reading of Gertrude ; and as her appetite for reading was much on a par with what a healthy mouse may be supposed to feel when left in perfect liberty within a favourite cheese, it was pretty evident to those who knew her as well as Madame Odcnthal, that she was not unaware of the change which awaited her. Eut although it was impossible to suppose her ignorant of this, it was equally so to believe that it excited any very lively sensations, either of pleasure or distaste. As a companion, she was more than usually silent, and as a stu- dent, less than usually diligent. In short, her affectionate, but greatly puzzled friend, was totally at a loss as to the state of her young companion's mind respecting this unexpected event. It was natural enough, that in this state of things, she should ask her son, during a tete-d-tete walk with him in the garden, whether he thought the young baroness liked the idea of this journey, or not. His answer was: ''Upon my word, dear mother, I can't tell." ''It certainly is not very likely that you should know, Kupert, ' she rejoined ; " for I presume that I know her thoughts on most subjects better than you can do ; and yet, strange to say, I really have not been able to discover what her feelings are about it. iNevertheless, it is impossible she can be really indifferent about it." Piupcrt nodded his head, and said: "Certainly. One should think so." " In some things she is very like her mother," resumed Madame Odenthal, musingly; "but in others quite the reverse. When the late baroness once knew she could trust a friend, she 150 geetrude; on, had no longer any reserve with them. But it is not so "with Gertrude. Do you not think that there is a great deal of singu- larity about her, Eupcrt?" The young man did not immediately reply, which caused his mother to look up at him. His eyes were fixed upon the ground, but his mother's question had caused a great change in his com- plexion. His face was scarlet. But after the delay of a moment, he very composedly replied to it, by pronouncing, with great distinctness, the word "Yes." "She is an admirable creature, nevertheless," returned his mo- ther, earnestly ; " and it is hardly fair, perhaps, for me, or for you either, to sit in judgment upon her, because she does not open her heart to us with as much freedom as if we were in all respects her equal." "You think then," said the young man, with sudden vehe- mence, " that she is as proud as her father ? " "I have not said that, Eupert," replied his mother, quietly. " She has too large and too clear a mind to render that possible ; nay, I am not sure that it would be fair to call her proud at all ; but without her being so, I think it very likely that custom, and perhaps something like a feeling of propriety, may render it almost impossible for her to forget the difference of rank between ns, entirely." " Could she have acquired such a feeling from her mother, think you? " said Eupert, with something very like a sneer. "jS^o!" was the decided reply of IMadame Odenthal to this question. " The mind of her mother," she added, with the tone of deep feeling which the mention of her lost friend always produced, "was both too lofty, and too bright, to admit any shadow of prejudice, however slight, to tarnish it." "I do not admire minds that are tarnished by prejudice," :• '. plied Eupert. "JS'or should I," returned his mother, shaking her head re- proachfully. " You are so sudden, so vehement in your interpre- tations, that it is difficult to talk to you, Eupert. However, I do not deny that there are contradictory qualities in the mind of Gertrude, which often puzzle me. I very much doubt, if we either of us understand her perfectly." "!N"ay, for that matter, my dear mother," returned her son, pettishly, "I freely confess that I do not understand her at all. But my dulness on this subject can be of no great consequence to anybody." TAillLY PEIDE. 151 And with these words the yonng man took an agile leap over the low fence, which divided the flower-garden from the vineyard ; and left his mother to her meditations. i;. ^? 131' i:- * "When Eupert Odenthal declared that the character of Gertrude was a mystery to him, he not only spoke with perfect sincerity, but he said no more than Gertrude herseK might have echoed, had she been questioned on the same subject. Again, and again, and again, the harassed girl had endeavoured to arrange her thoughts, and regulate her feelings, but for a long, long time, her efforts were utterly in vain ; and the severest self-examination to which she could submit herself, only left her with the renewed convic- tion, that she knew not right from wrong. The unfortunate blindness of her mother to the probability that two young people, thrown together as Eupert and Gertrude had been, might find at length that they each liked the society of the other better than all that the earth had to offer them besides, was the root and origin of all they had suffered, and were about to suffer. Had their intercourse been only the ordinary intercourse of society, the danger arising from it would have been infinitely less. In that case, each might, perhaps, have learnt to think the other charming, fascinating, admirable; but each might not have learned to think the other the only human being extant, whose affection and companionship were worth living for. For a considerable time Eupert had very greatly the advan- tage ; for the idea of his falling in love with the heiress of Schwanberg, was too preposterous to find a place in his imagi- nation ; and moreover, he looked at her and considered her as a child, long after she had learned to think him the most admirable of men. He had, besides, the gi-eat advantage of being guarded from the danger of discovering how well she deserved to be loved, by the captiousness and caprice which ever accompanies such feelings as she had for him, when um-equited. It was upon these caprices, and the strange inequality of manner which they led to, which had suggested to him — the idea that she inherited her father's pride. And then came the interlude of his friend Adolphe's proposal, and rejection ; the manner of which naturally increased his belief in her aboun^diug pride. . . . And so matters went on for a few months longer, with very little change. 152 geetetjde; ob, Tiicn came the fatal illness of Gertrude's mother, which led to llupert's mother becoming one of the family ; and then it was that the heart's case of the young man became seriously endan- gered. Guarded by the immense distance between them, the attractions of the beautiful Gertrude had hitherto been contemplated by him as something to wonder at, rather than to love ; but the presence of his mother in the family had not only brought them more to- gether, but had betrayed many traits in her character for which he had never before given her credit. Yet still he was, comparatively speaking, safe ; for, while he never lost sight of the immense distance which their respective stations really placed between them, he contrived to make it greater still, by persuading himself that the brilliant Gertrude as surely inherited her father's pride, as she could ever inherit his estates. And this persuasion served him for a considerable time as armour of proof . jN^either beauty, talent, temper, nor even her tender watchfulness over her sinking mother, could find a crevice at which to enter his heart ; and she had loved him (ten thousand times better than she loved herself) for many months before it had ever entered his head to believe it possible that any clear-sighted man could love her. Love her ! The idea seemed absolutely monstrous. Love a woman who submitted with evident approbation to select her husband from the pages of the Gotha Almanack — rejecting all whose name could not be found in its pages ! J^o other absurdity could have produced so strong an effect on the mind of Rupert as this, for it seemed to identify the father and daughter, in his fancy ; and, most assuredly, of all the human beings with whom his uneventful life had brought him in contact, the Baron von Schwanberg appeared to him the most little-minded and contemptible. And thus it was with him till the eventful dinner-party, which has been described, when the sight of Gertrude, radiant with delight at her own success in her endeavour to place his mother beside her, as an equal, instead of a dependant, so completely overturned all his foregone conclusions respecting her pride, and the inherited similarity of her character to that of her father, that he at once fell into the other extreme, and would have given half his future life to prove to her that now^ at least, he did her justice. But though he would have given half his life to prove this to her, without forfeiting his own esteem by abusing the confidence FA^IILT PEIDE. 153 whicli was placed in liim, lie would not, by his own good will, have gone one inch farther ; and sharp mnst have been the ear, and keen the eye, which conld have detected the removal of the prejudices which had hitherto protected him. 13ut what ear so sharp, what eye so keen, as those of a young girl in the position of Gertrude ? Alas ! she knew what love was too well, to make any mistake as to the foregone heart-whole indiifcrence of Eupert. His kindling enthusiasm for everything that was great and good, his ardent appreciation of everything sublime in poetry or exalted in moral worth, were not more clearly seen, or more deeply impressed upon her heart, than was her conviction of his utter inditference to herself. But she had made up her mind to endure it, with the stern courage with which a high-toned spirit almost always resists injustice. This must not be construed into meaning that Gertrude thought she had a right to the admiration and the love of every man who approached her. jN'othing could be farther from the fact — nothing more repugnant to her character. On the contrary, if there was any trait, — any feeling, — which could, in the least degTee, justify the idea which Rupert had conceived of her inor- dinate pride, it must be found in the utter indifference in which she held the opinions concerning her, which were experienced by all the individuals with whom she had hitherto made acquaintance. But there was a feeling at the very bottom of her heart, that llupert ought to love her ; for, had she not waited for his opinions, and accepted his judgment, day by day, almost from the first hour that she had known him ? Had they not soared and dived together to all the heights and depths of human thought, as registered in the volumes among which they lived ? The leading axiom which had pervaded the system upon which ^ladame de Schwanberg had educated her daughter, was, that she should never permit a fallacy, which she knew to be such, to take root in her mind, nor conceal from her any historical, moral, or religious truth, which she herself recognised to be such. It seems difficult (considering that ^Madame de Schwanberg was a well-informed and right-thinking woman) to discover any objection to such a system of education as this ; but, nevertheless, under all the circumstances, it was far from being quite as safe as it might be supposed to be ; for, though it can scarcely be said that Madame de Schwanberg, upon any important point, halted between two opinions, the tone of her mind, and of her teaching 154 _ geeteude; oe, too, was weakened by a sort of timid consciousness that the turn- ing her daughter away from the faith of her ancestors, was a daring deed. And yet it was her most earnest wish that Gei-trude should not be a Romanist ; and it was, therefore, that she not only clung to Madame Odenthal, as a better-taught Christian than herself, but that she encouraged the freedom with which Rupert canvassed the subject in the presence of her eagerly-listening Gertrude. That he was to her not only a great Apollo, but a great divine, long before any dream of love had mixed itself with her feelings, is most certain ; and knowing how completely her confidence, her judgment, and her taste hung upon him, as an authority even superior to that of her mother, it did seem cruel and unjust on his part, that he should always and for ever treat her as if it were impossible that anything like real sympathy could exist between them. But such was very decidedly the case, as far as he was con- cerned ; for so deeply was he persuaded that the Gertrude of the library was only the obedient pupil of her amiable mother, while the Gertrude of the drawing-room was the sympathising inheritor of all her father's pride, as well as of all his acres, that whatever he might occasionally have been tempted to think of her talents, or her beauty, he accounted her as one so much out of the reach of affection, that he would have been quite as likely to sigh for the happiness and honour of becoming a cardinal, as of being the chosen partner of her heart. It was indeed a strange caprice of fortune which caused the demolition of all the prejudice within which Eupert had entrenched himself ; but, slight as seemed the cause, and sudden the effect, it may be doubted if all the arts which ever woman used could have been put in practice with so much success as attended the almost childish caprice by which poor Gertrude, at length, found her way to his heart. This uneventful, though not unimportant retrospect, was neces- saiy to make what follows, intelligible ; but the web is not un- ravelled yet, for the struggle was not yet over in the heart of Rupert. The sort of mist -through which he had been wont to look at her, and which had made her appear so far unlike what she really was, had, it is true, fallen from his eyes, and Gertrude felt in every move that it was so. But nevertheless their position relatively to each other, was still a very puzzling, and by no means a very happy one. The misery of doubt and uncertainty, however, was all on one side. The feelings of doubt had little PAMILT PEIDE. 155 or no share in the emotions which were at work in the breast of Eupert. Had he been asked to explain them, he could scarcely have done it better, or more correctly, than in the words of the well-known song, " But if slie is not for me, What care I how fair she be ? " And he laboured so hard, poor youth, to keep this thought for ever awake within him, that no sensation deserving the name of Hope, had as yet been suffered to embellish his waking dreams. From time to time, however,- he endeavoured to assist the pro- cess of curing himself, which he was desperately determined to effect, by labouring to persuade himself, as may be seen in the sample given of his conversation with his mother, thnt the charac- ter of Gertrude was capricious and contradictory. Such, with the exception of some few occasional fits of un- checked passionate adoration, was the condition of the unfortunate Bupert, when the Baron von Schwanberg, his daughter, and suite took their departure from the heavy walls within which the proud owner was born, for the purpose of visiting the light and glittering salons of Paris. It would be difficult to say whether the heightened colour and flashing eye, which was marked by other eyes than those of his mother, should have been considered as indications of pain or of pleasure ; it was evidently not with indifference, however, that he took his place in the vehicle which was to convey him to Paris. IS'either would it have been easy to analyze the secret feelings of the superb baron himself, at the moment he was preparing to exchange his time-honoured authority at Schloss Schwanberg, for the less assured, but more widely-extended influence, which he hoped, with his fair daughter's assistance, to exercise in the gayest capital in Europe. But however widely extended was the sphere of this new-born ambition, it was evident to his daughter, that his eye was still steadily fixed upon one pre-eminently important object as the gi'eat crowning glory of his ambition, for the last words he addressed to her, before quitting his home, were these : "Gertrude ! you have, of course, packed up with your hands the Almanack deGotha?" 156 geeteude; oe, CHAPTER XXIV. Though the Earon von Schwanberg was perfectly correct in his estimates of the financial value of his own property, he was a good deal mistaken as to the proportion which his own wealth bore to that of many individuals with whom he was likely to be brought into collision in the course of his present expedition. He set out, however, with a very noble ^^ sheaf of hiJIs'''' on a substantial Paris banker ; and not only was his mode of travelling almost stately in its style, but his choice of a residence, on arriving at Paris, was more in keeping with his own ideas of his personal importance, than in exact proportion to his rent-roll. Horeover, to do him justice, it had never occurred to him that one means by which the travelling magnates of most countries contrive to sustain their lofty flight, while on the wing, is by not troubling themselves to look back to their forsaken nests at home. Xow this mode of relieving himself from the burden of two establishments, had never occurred to him. He neither dismissed servants, nor sold horses, and had never made any very close cal- culations as to 'how much, or how little, his absence from home would enable him to save towards defraying the expenses of his foreign residence. That no such calculations should ever suggest themselves as necessary to Gertrude, may be easily believed ; for her father would have thought it equally degrading and unnecessary, had he ever attempted to clraw her attention to the details of finance. The young heiress, therefore, could scarcely have failed of being a very happ}* young heiress, as she took possession of a very elegant hotel in the Fauxbourg St. Honore, all the principal aj^artmcuts of which had been engaged for their use, had she not unfortunately fallen in love with a youth, who, in addition to a good many other disqualifications for being a fitting object for her devoted attachment, had as yet betrayed no signs whatever of having any propensity to return it. Xevertheless, the misery which certainly seemed likely to arise from this untoward state of atfairs, was, for the time at least, almost forgotten, in the novelty and the brilliance of the scenes FAMILY PEIDE. lo7 to whicli she Tras immediately introclucecl. How matters might have been managed for her if she had not previously made the acquaintance of M. and Madame de Hauteville, it is difficult to guess ; but the cordial liking which had sprung up between the two ladies in the country, had been sustained by a very brisk correspondence since they parted ; and it was the De Hautevilles who had selected this charming apartment for them, the De Hautevilles who had taken care that everything necessary to their comfort awaited them on their arrival, and it was the De Haute- villes who had made their joyous appearance at an early hour on the following morning, to welcome them on their arrival, and to offer their services in every possible way that could secure to the strangers all the pleasures of novelty without any of its embar- rassments. It is needless to dwell upon the facilities which such assistance aff'orded for establishing the noble strangers as welcome guests in every salon most desirable to enter, from the Eourbon sovereign to the banker millionaire ; and in the case of our "baron," ignorance was most decidedly bliss, for having been once assured upon unimpeachable authority, that the De Haute- villes were noble, it never entered his head to suspect that some of the most splendid salons which were opened to him, owed their gold and their damask to revenues which he would have considered as scarcely more illustrious in their origin, than those accruing from the dust-cart. 'Not having been long accustomed, however, to the dignity of being attended by any gentleman of ''his suite" either at home or abroad, he felt at first a little embarrassed by the necessity which he was assured there existed for his taking Eupert with him everywhere. Having once assured him that it was right and proper that he should be so attended, Gertrude did not again condescend to allude to the subject. IS'or was there, as she perhaps foresaw, any occasion that she should do so ; for not only did the baron himself find an immense relief from always having at least one person born for his will, within easy reach of him, but the succes du salon, which the fine voice and good mien of the young man speedily obtained, aided as it most cordially was, by the zealous efforts of the De Hautevilles, would have rendered it much more difficult to have kept him out of society, than to have introduced him into it. Nothing, in short, could apparently be more successful than this expedition. It was not that the baron felt his consequence increase — that, perhaps, was impossible — but he had the delight- 158 gerteude; ob, ful consciousness that it was witnessed by a very considerably larger number of distinguished personages than he could even have hoped to assemble round him at Schloss Behwanberg. Even the remarkable success of his secretary in every salon they entered, caused him but little surprise, and no annoyance, for he attributed it wholly to his own influence ; and when, upon the first meeting between lladame de Hauteville and Gertrude's humble dame de comj^af/nie, he saw the arms of the French elegante literally open to receive her, he took the opportunity, the very first time he found himself alone with his daughter, of ** im- proving the occasion," by pointing out to her the great importance to persons in his exalted station, of permitting none but estimable individuals to appear under their patronage. *'It is perfectly evident, my dear Gertrude," he said, with great solemnity, " that persons like ourselves might do incalcu- lable injury to the morals of society, did we not carefully select the individuals whom, for our own pleasure, or convenience, we place near us, from among the most estimable portion of oiu' in- feriors. It must be as evident to you, my dear, as it is to me, that if this very useful mother and son, whom we have attached to our service, were as worthless, as we happily know them to be the reverse, their being presented by me, would be quite enough to ensure their being received in the manner you now witness. This is certainly a great privilege, one of the greatest, perhaps, belonging to our rank ; but, of course, we must take care not to abuse it." Gertrude listened to this, as she did to all his pompous harangues, with a sort of fixed and mute attention, which she flattered herself was as far from hypocrisy as the circumstances of the case permitted, but still she felt that it loas hypocrisy ; yet, " alas ! was it not a deeper hypocrisy still, to hide in her heart all that nestled there? Had it not been for this bitter thought, her present situation would often have been one of very great enjoyment. The gaiety, the animation, the bright variety of everything around her, so perfectly new, and so perfectly un- like the manner of life to which she had been accustomed, would have had great charms for her, had her heart been more at ease ; nay, there were certainly moments during which all her secret anxieties seemed forgotten, and when life appeared to her as a state of existence capable of more enjoyment than she had ever before thought it calculated to bestow. The first serious misfortune, in truth, which befel her in Paris, was occasioned by her being seen at a ball at the Tuileries FAMILY PEIDE. . 159 by an Hungarian nobleman of high birth and large possessions, wbo very speedily became convinced that she was in all respects precisely the individual intended by special providence to assume his name and share his honours. It was not to herself, but, according to long- established con- tinental fashion, to her fiither, that he communicated this im- portant opinion. JsTothing could be more dignitied than the manner in which he made this communication, unless, indeed, it were the manner in which it was received ; and never, perhaps, could any two gentlemen of their class have been seen to exhibit themselves to greater advantage, than they both did during this interview. This splendid proposal was a very welcome one, even to the Baron von Schwanberg; for he was himself aware of being so very nearly dazzled by the constantly brilliant, yet constantly changing scene which surrounded him, that he had more than once become conscious of a painfully anxious feeling, lest the great object of his existence might be lost merely from the difficulty of selecting the best, amid so much that was desirable. " Ja!" was the syllable which his heart ejaculated in reply to the noble Count Hernwold's dignified, and in every way flat- tering proposal; and " ja! " akeady trembled on his lips, when, by a sudden expansion of intellect, which he immediately felt to be providential, he recollected the solemn condition which must be fulfilled before such a proposal could be accepted. It would have been difficult, however, for any man to have brought a greater number of stately words together, than the baron contrived to 'do before he concluded the harangue by which he contrived to make the Count understand, not without some little difficulty, however, that it was not in his power to respond to his polite proposal definitely at that moment. " How, my Lord Baron ? " returned the astonished suitor, waxing wrath and red ; "I am not to receive an answer ? " " I must implore you, my Lord Count," returned the flattered father, in a tone so meek and gracious, that a stranger to him might almost have been beguiled into believing that he considered himself of very little more consequence than all the other great men in the world, *'I do beseech you," said he, "to believe, what, in fact, it is quite impossible to doubt, namely, that no father living, except, perhaps, the few who are crowned kings, could listen to such a proposal as you have now done me the honour to make, without feeling themselves gratified, both as fathers and as nobles, in the very highest degree, ^^eyertheless, 160 geeteude; oe, my Lord Count, I trust that I shall stand excused in your eyes, if I venture to repeat that I must petition for as much delay as may be required to announce your magnificent proposals to my daughter." Count Hernwold had risen from his chair upon hearing the impalatable words which informed him that he must wait awhile before he could receive an answer; and he stood face to face before the baron, with an aspect still more haughty than his own ; but no sooner did the well-pleased father give him to understand that the delay required, was only for the purpose of making the lady of his choice acquainted with the honour done her, than the whole of the lover's ample visage became radiant with satisfaction. Count Hernwold was, beyond all question, a very handsome man, though somewhat approaching to heaviness, both in feature and stature. His age was that which, in the male, must be con- sidered as the meridian of human life, having just completed his fortieth year ; and the smile with which he reseated himself, upon becoming aware that his proposals were to be referred to no harsher tribunal than that of the fair lady's will, made him look younger and handsomer still. The interview ended by the most dignified and courteous assurances on both sides, that the cementing the friendly re- lations Avhich akeady existed between them, by the union pro- posed, would be ever considered as the most happy event of their respective lives. Daring the time that the unfortunate Gertrude had been making this involuntary conquest, she might fairly have been considered as one of the most unhappy young ladies in Paris. The first few weeks being over, during which a ceaseless suc- cession of engagements had sometimes amused, and sometimes bewildered her, she first felt weary, very heavily weary, and then very profoundly miserable. In truth, the self-examination to which she frequently subjected herself, could not well lead to any other result. Hhe would sometimes sit for hours in the well-guarded solitude of her own chamber, and meditate upon her own position, and more minutely still, upon her own conduct. The writing she read upon the wall was certainly neither flat- tering, nor consolatory. Her conscience told her, that let the fruits or the follies of her father be what they might, he was still a loving and most devoted father to her. There was no hollow deception in his love, no famut peide. 161 mixture of falsehood in any demonstration of it. And having come to this conclusion, she turned her eyes to examine the sketch which her conscience proceeded to draw of herself. In return for true affection, she paid a heartless seeming of deference, which, cold and the very reverse of loving (as at the best, it must he), had not in her case, even the merit of being sincere ; for she felt no real deference for him ; nor had she, at the bottom of her heart, the most remote intention of obeying him on any single point of sufficient importance to affect either his happiness, or her own. Yet though she had courage enough, and truth enough, to enable her to finish this sketch, without leaving out a single fact, or a single thought, that tended to complete it, there was no feeling awakened by it which might lead her to atone for her deficiencies. "I hate myself! " she murmured to her own ears in contrite bitterness of spirit ; but it was a species of contrition that brought more of despair than of repentance with it. And having reached this point of misery, she started from her chair, paced with a passionate and hasty step the noble room that was appropriated for her private use — examined anew the fasten- ing which ensured her privacy, and then, throwing herself upon her knees, implored Heaven to grant her strength to conquer the fatal passion which had made her such a wretch. She felt as if her desperate prayer was heard ; when she sud- denly resolved to tax her memory through the long portion of her past existence, during which her love for Kupcrt had influenced her every feeling and her every thought, in order to revive the bitter memory of all the proofs which he had demonstrated, that he shared not the madness which destroyed her. It would have been difficult for her self-accusing spirit to have hit upon a severer penance for her faults. Rare indeed were the traces left upon her memory of any word, or any look, that could be fairly construed as betraying love ; and of such love as she felt for him — not one. **Is such a life worth having?" she exclaimed. *'"V\^oeth HAVING !" she repeated, bitterly. ''Is not endiirahle, the better word ? TThi/ should any human being submit to the endurance of prolonged life, when conscious that every new day which dawns upon them can only bring a renewal of misery ? " Mature," she whispered to herself, " jS'ature has not endowed us with the power to prolong our days, but she has bestowed upon us the power of shortening them. . . . "Wliy should this power 12 162 geeteude; or, be left us, but for our use and benefit, as all other power is? Oh ! what a luxury "would it be, to lay my head upon my pillow, knowing that I should sleep, and never wake again to the misery of seeing his cold indifference ! " For a few guilty, di^eadfiil moments, the miserable Gertrude remained with her eyes closed in very frightful reverie ; but passion is as sudden in transition, as vehement in demonstration ; and the next sob that relieved her throbbing heart, was given to repentance. Poor girl ! with all her vehemence, and all her faults, she was, perhaps, still more deserving of pity than of blame ; she was still very young, and most unhappily situated. Madame Odenthal would assuredly have been the confidante of all her feelings, had she not been Rupert^ s mother ; but such confidence was now im- possible. Would it not have been like pleading her cause to him, and imploring his love ? ''Alas! " sighed poor Gertrude, as she meditated upon the im- possibility of confiding her sorrows to this dear and only friend ; *'I feel at times as if I were mad enough for anything. And perhaps I am — mad enough for anything but that ! " She wanted, however, no right-minded confessor to tell her, that in her bold longing for death, she had sinned against the benign law of nature, which teaches us, till reason itself is shaken, that the consciousness of existence is a blessing, and that it is the will of our Creator that it should be so. This truth soon rushed back upon her heart, and brought re- pentance Avith it ; and then she set herself to think deliberately of her position, and patiently endeavoured, as far as her agitated spirits would permit her to do so, to discover, amidst a choice of evils, what line of conduct she could pursue which would be the most likely to reconcile herself to her own conscience, and most contribute to the happiness of her father. It had so happened that on that evening, at a ball given by one of the magnates of the Paris season, Eupert had for more than one dance become the partner of one of the loveliest girls in the room. It had happened, too, that he had not once asked her to dance ; a liberty which had become almost a usage, once in the course of every evening that they met in a ball-room. This omission on his part was by no means accidental, having been occasioned by his over-hearing a royal duke declare, that he must contrive to get one waltz with the beautiful Baroness de Schwanberg, as there was no Frenchwoman who could compete with her in her national dance. FAiriLY TEIDE. 163 On hearing this, the discreet Eiipert determined that his modest claim should not be made till this dance with the noble duke had been performed ; but some accident or other prevented its ever being performed at all ; and the consequence of this was, that the ball began, and ended, without poor Gertrude's having received the anxiously-looked-for invitation from her father's modest secretary, to take the accustomed *' tour de ivaltzy — ''"What great events from little causes spring! " The bitterness of Gertrude's disappointment certainly bore no reasonable proportion to its importance ; but it may be said in her defence, that she had long been kept in a state of very tor- turing uncertainty, and her mind harassed ; and her spirits weakened by this, had left her unable to judge fairly either of his conduct, or her own. She retired to her room that night in the full persuasion that she was not only an object of perfect indifference to him, but that he had seen — or suspected — what her feelings were for him ; and that his neglect of her throughout the evening proceeded from a friendly and honourable wish to cure her of a folly which he did not share, and which could only be productive of misery to her. Yet, in the midst of the agony produced by this persuasion, she did him justice ; nay, she did him more than justice ; for she not only gave him credit for the honourable discretion which had dictated the cautious reserve with which he always treated her ; but for the absence of all such weakness on his part as might have led him to luish that they had been differently situated. That night, or, at least, all that was left of it, was passed by the unhappy girl in very earnest and very praiseworthy efforts to take such a review of her own position, and the duties which it reasonably imposed on her, as might enable her so to act, as in some degree to reconcile her to herself. Nor was this truly conscientious effort made in vain — such efforts rarely are ; and just as the sun began to peep through the crevices of her window shutters, she fell into a peaceful sleep, which lasted till Teresa thought/' it would be quite nonsense to let it last any longer.'' 12—2 164 GERTRUDE; OR, CHAPTER XXy. The results of that niglit's meditation were more enduring than the sweet sleep which followed it. Gertrude's first sensation on awaking was, that she had undergone some violent change ; nor were the more deliberate thoughts which followed, at all calcu- lated to remove this impression. If she had herself described this change, it is probable that she might have said : *' I had lost my senses before it, but now I have recovered them." "Were I to attempt giving a detailed description of the state of Gertrude's mental condition, as it had been when she awoke on the previous day, and as she felt it to be now, the discrepancy would appear too strong to be rationally accounted for ; but those who have studied the strange varieties of human character, know that what might be truly termed unnatural in one, may, with equal justice, be pronounced essentially natural in another. There was so much of the earnestness of truth in the character of Gertrude, that, whatever she felt, she felt deeply ; and what- ever she purposed to do, she purposed firmly. ISTor, on the present occasion, were reasons wanting to justify the change which she resolved to achieve, not only in her future conduct, but her future feelings. *'The madness has lasted long enough," she murmured. "Young as I am, I have already spent whole years of life in doteing upon one who doted not on me ; and, more sinful still, I have been hardening my heart during the whole of this ill-spent time against my own father. Alas ! alas ! Of how much finer a quality is the love of his heart than the love of mine ! And yet, have I ever for a moment ceased to consider myself as his superior in all intellectual, ay, and in all moral qualities ? * Take physic, vanity,' clear your vision a little before you repose on your own view of the case, with such perfect satisfaction." It would be difficult to imagiue any state of things more favourable for the gracious reception of Count Hernwold's pro- posals than was thus produced. Gertrude had breakfasted in her own dressing-room — an ar- rangement by no means uncommon with her since her abode in FAMILY PEIDE. 165 Paris — as her own hours of rising had become later, while those of her father had remained unchanged. Madame Odenthal had been her companion at breakfast, but had left the room when her father entered it. She perceived, the moment he entered the room, that some great event had happened, and was not left long in doubt as to the nature of it. The "Almanack de Gotha" was in his hand, and he flourished it triumphantly over his head as he approached her. Gertrude was very pale when the door opened upon her, but before the baron and his Almanack had reached her table, she was red enough. *' You were inspired, Gertrude ! My noble-hearted Gertrude, you were, you must have been inspired, when the admirable idea occurred to you of consulting this precious volume as a preserva- tive against every wish of contaminating the purity of your race, by uniting yourself with any whose ancestors or connections are not found to have their names enrolled in this invaluable volume! " These words were quite enough to enlighten her upon the nature of the errand which had brought her father to visit her, instead of his waiting for her to make a visit to him, as was her daily usage. Her feelings would have been vastly different had a similar circumstance occurred to her on the preceding day. The sight of her father and his Almanack then, would have roused within her a spirit of resistance which might have led to very painful domestic results ; but now the case was very different. For one short moment, for half a moment perhaps, she again felt her wicked wish to die. . . . Eut in the next, she positively breathed a silent, desperate exclamation, which, if it had been expressed in words, must have been rendered, " Thank God ! " Her noble father, however, was much too full of the business which brought him there, to have any speculation to bestow upon her manner of receiving it. The fact that the high-born, wealthy, and illustrious Count Hernwold had asked for the honour and happiness of her hand in marriage, was uttered once, twice, thrice, before he di^eamed of pausing to ascertain what her answer might be. Eut was he not justified in this ? Did he not carry his justifi- cation in his hand ? So, no less than three diff'erent pages did his well-taught fingers turn, and on each did the name and title of Count Hernwold meet his search. ** "We have not waited for nothing, have we, my Gertrude ? 166 geeteude; oe, These alliances are all but royal, and nowhere, I will he hold to say, could a man so allied have made a better choice." While this happy rhapsody was pronounced again, again, and again, with but little variation cither in words or tone, the bride- elect was occupied in recalling her meditations of the preceding night, and again she inwardly breathed, " Thank God! " ^Nor was she far wrong in thinking that such a termination would be better than the continuation of the lamentable state in which she had already passed what ought to be the brightest, if not the happiest years of life. To love, and love, and love in vain, with the additional misery of knowing that her love was both sinful, as an act of disobedience to her father's will, and con- temptible in her own eyes, from the thought that it had been never solicited, was surely more dreadful still. It was not many hours since she had arrived at the full con- viction that this last crowning misery of Eapert's indifference had been 'proved beyond the reach of hope to contradict it; and if it had been her habit, as it was that of her father, to persuade herself that everything which befel her was in consequence of a deviation from the laws of nature, permitted for her particular gratification and advantage, she would assuredly have believed that this opportune proposal of marriage from a person whose name was to be found in the "Almanack de Gothaj" was the result of a special dispensation of Providence. Her manner of receiving the intelligence thus brought, was, therefore, not exactly triumphant ; but, though she again became, for a few moments, extremely pale, she displayed no indication of repugnance. 'MYas it not a blessed dispensation that brought us here, Ger- trude?" he said, clasping his hands together, in an attitude of devotion. "Our thanks must be rendered in our own chapel, Gertrude; and Father Alaric must be instructed to select proper services for the occasion. And now tell me, my dear love," he continued, "in what apartment you would wish to receive my Lord Count, when he waits upon you to offer his personal homage ? "Will you admit him here, Gertrude ? " The wretched girl half rose from her chair ; but, fortunately, she did not raise her eyes from the floor ; if she had, not even the baron's seven-fold shield of dulness could have prevented him from seeing something there which would have startled him. In that short moment, however, Gertrude found time to resolvG that all she had alreadv suffered, should not have been sufl'eied in vain, and that the fate she had decided upon for herself should FAillLY PEIDE. 167 not be rendered more lingering, and more bitter still, by any wavering feebleness in her manner of meeting it. She instantly reseated herself, and replied, in a tone which had perhaps a touch of haughtiness in its dignity : ''Xo, Sir, if you please ; not here. In my estimation, there would be greatly too much familiarity in receiving such a visit here. Let him find me in the great drawing-room, if you please." The baron clasped his hands, raised his eyes to Heaven, and whispered, quite audibly, his fervent thanks to the Virgin Mary, for having inspii'cd the heart of his child with such noble feelings ! There are, probably, many causes, none of them very strictly philosoi)hical, which may enable a woman — and even a young one — to assume an aspect of composure, when her pulses may not be making very healthful movements. Some such must have been at work at the heart of Gertrude during this tremendous visit from Count Hernwold ; for it would have been difficult for any young lady to have displayed more perfect self-possession. The interview, however, did not last long ; but when, exactly at the moment when everything desirable upon the occasion had been uttered, Gertrude rose to leave the room, the Count, as he handed her to the door, declared, with no faltering accent, that he considered himself at that moment to be, beyond any possible reach of comparison, the happiest man upon the surface of the globe called earth. CHAPTER XXVI. As Eupert Odenthal had lived for several years of his life without being at all certain what his own feelings were with respect to the Bareness Gertrude von Schwanberg, it would be hardly fair to expect that the faithful chronicler who has under- taken to relate his adventures, should venture to state any positive opinion on the subject at this very particularly perplexed period ot his existence. Let it suffice to say, that whatever his feelings were, on hearing that the young lady was about to be married immediately to the Count Hernwold, he never uttered a single word expressive ox them, to any one. 168 geetetjde; oe, His mother once touclied upon the subject, upon finding herself tete-d-tete with him, shortly after the important news had been announced throughout the family, but the conversation was cut short very abruptly by his starting up and leaving the room ; but ere he passed through the door, he turned to her, and said, ''For mercy's sake, my dearest mother, do not begin haranguing me on this subject! I hear of it from every soul in the house, and out of it, till I am positively sick of the pompous old fool's name ! Just fancy what it must be for me to have my lord, the baron, rehearsing the titles and alliances of his strutting son-in-law from morning to night ! Don't you begin on the same theme, or I really shall be tempted to run away." His mother smiled, and nodded very good-humouredly, fairly confessing, as she said, that they were likely to hear enough of my Lord the Count, without entertaining each other on the subject. And so they parted, and Madame Odenthal kept her promise, and did not trouble her son with any further observations on the subject. But she did not promise that she would not herself, when in silence and in solitude, dwell upon this subject with the most heartfelt satisfaction. Though far, very far, from knowing, or even suspecting the whole truth as to the feelings of Gertrude or of Eupert for each other, she had, nevertheless, often spent anxious hoiu^s, both by night and by day, lest these two young people, so perilously thrown together, might learn at last to love each other too well. To have become a spy upon both, or either of them, would have been repugnant to her nature ; and her disposition in this respect had, doubtless, kept her ignorant of much that might have been very obviously evident to one of a different temper. However, there was much that was very puzzling and contmdic- tory in the conduct of both ; so that what she half made up her mind to believe one day, she rejected as perfectly untenable the next. Eut, for all that, she could not be said to be at all easy in her mind upon the subject, and most assuredly it was a great relief to her to hear that her beautiful Gertrude was about to become Countess of Hernwold. Eut the silence of Madame Odenthal on the subject, or the silence of her son either, mattered little, and was noticed less ; for so many, both in the house and out of it, appeared to talk of FAilILT PELDE. 169 nothing else, that their voices on the subject could scarcely have been heard, and were certainly not missed. It is not my fanlt, if my readers are not already aware, that the Baron von Schwanberg was a very pompous gentleman ; and with so veiy splendid a marriage in prospect for his daughter, they need scarcely be told now that his preparations for it were made to ring, not only through his own abode, and those of all his numerous fine friends and acquaintance, but that the most fashionable tradesmen in Paris soon became aware, that if they knew their own interest, they would speedily set every available agent at work, in order to secure a share of the golden harvest which this union of wealth with wealth, seemed to promise them. But though the Count Hernwold was a very pompous man, on some points perhaps almost as pompous as his magnificent intended father-in-law, he had the discretion to give vent to his own overwhelming consciousness of superiority, less in words than in actions. He had informed this delighted father-in-law, that he con- ceived it would be absolutely necessary for sustaining properly the position of himself and his noble bride, that, in addition to their various country residences, they should have a permanent hotel in the most distinguished quarter of Paris. IS'ow if, instead of concluding this dignified announcement by the word Paeis, Count Hernwold had named Peeu, the baron would scarcely have had sufficient presence of mind to testify, or even to feel astonishment ; for the Baron von Schwanberg knew that there might be some few who were superior on some points. Great as he was, he was not, for instance, one of the Heaven- elected few, destined to wear a regal crown ; and he could hardly be said to have ever expressed any positive discontent at this dispensation of Providence. He knew perfectly well that the earth contained but very few crowned heads ; and it was, doubt- less, this consideration which had enabled him to reconcile himself with so little difiiculty to not being one of the number. But, this class set aside, he certainly had a most comfortable conviction, that he had an exceedingly good right to compete with all the rest of the human race, without running any great risk of finding a superior, or even an equal, among them. Yet, gTcatly as he gloried in his noble pedigree and his large possessions, he was quite aware that he could not hold the supe- rior station assigned him by Providence, had he no other claim to pre-eminence. 170 geetetjde; oe, He knew that there were pedigrees as ancient, and races as pure as his own, and that there were sundry estates as Large, or larger. But he had, certainly, neyer yet made up his mind to helicve that, take him for all in all, there could be found another individual equal to himself in all respects. He probahly never had asked himself whether he thought that any other man living could stand as upright, or balance himself as securely upon his legs, as he could do ; but, on the other hand, it is pretty certain, that if ho had asked himself such a question, he would have answered, to the best of his knowledge and belief, Ko. On one point, and one point oxly, had he as yet brought himself to believe that he might meet a superior ; and it so happened that the Count Hernwold was one of the distinguished person- ages to whom he was willing to accord this superiority. In short, the Earon von Schwanberg felt that his destined son-in-law was more a man of the world, that is to say, of the fashionable world, than himself. This superiority was, of course, the more readily accorded by the baron, from the obvious fact, that no man can be in two places at once ; and therefore it was impossible that he could, while passing his days in the stately dignity of Ms own castle, be enabled to become a well-known and distinguished member of the fashionable world in Paris. Had hisdaughter been a son, it is likely enough that he would have preferred a continuation of the same remote dignity for him, to every other ; but since his arrival at Paris, he seemed some- how or other to have become aware that there was more fuss made about a well-born woman of fashion , than even about a stiff-backed old baron, pf sixteen quarters. Moreover, he had acquired a sort of dim consciousness that his own departed lady, notwithstanding her close alliance with the Gotha Almanack, would have been a more brilliant and a more renowned personage in the salons of Paris, than she had ever been within the venerable walls of Schloss Schwanberg. Such thoughts as these had naturally prepared him to listen to whatever Count Hernwold proposed, with a very decided con- viction that he must be right; and the Count, with all his conscious superiority in such matters, had no great difficulty in persuading the wealthy father of his beautiful fiancee, that how- ever costly his plans for their future menage might appear, the birth, the station, the beauty, and the future fortune of his peer- less daughter, rendered it no more than she had a right to expect. FAMILY miDE. 171 "What iavisli expenditure was it possible lie could propose, which would not have appeared a positive duty under such cir- cumstances ? Upon one or two occasions, soon after this brilliant marriage Jiad been proposed and accepted, it happened that a sort of generous rivalship displayed itself between the two gentlemen, as to which of them should manifest the most profuse generosity in the preparations that were making for its celebration ; and there was certainly more than one Parisian tradesman who pro- fited largely by this magnificent spirit of emulation. As to the fair idol who received the ofi'eriugs, had she been formed of wood or stone, she could scarcely have been more in- different as to the beauty or the value of all that was thus laid upon her altar. There was one point, however, on which, as the preparations went on, she soon ceased to be indifi^erent ; and this variation from the dignified tranquillity with which she heard of, or re- ceived all the various oucriugs and preparations which marked the progress of the great aff'air of which all Paris was talking, arose upon the subject of the house that was about to be pre- pared for her reception in this gayest of cities. "\yhen it was definitely settled between the baron and the Count that Gertrude ivas to have a mansion fitted up for her in Paris, it was Count Hernwold who, having convinced the baron of the necessity of it, seemed naturally enough to think that the pleasant task of selecting and embellishing it, devolved on him ; and of course the execution of this task was rendered more agree- able still, by the necessity it occasioned of very frequent reference and consultation to, and with, the lovely lady in whose service he was employed. j^ow this, after being exposed to it for a short time, became too great an annoyance to Gertrude to be endured. Since the tremendous hour of self-examination which led to the atonement she was now making for all the disobedient feel- ings of her past life, she had persevered in the resolution then taken with unflinching constancy ; feeling, perhaps, that any and every misery was preferable to what she had endured, when writhing, during the long hours of that dreadful night, under the intolerable weight of a self-accusing conscience. But it appeared to her, that the sitting to listen to Count Hernwold's pompous boastings of all the expense, as well as all the trouble he meant to bestow upon the mansion which it was his purpose to purchase, and decorate expressly for her, was a 172 GERTErDE; OR, penance that no duty called upon her to endure. There was something too in her manner of discussing the subject, which seemed perpetually calling for her gratitude ; and as she felt none, she did not think it a part of her duty to affect it. Why should she feel grateful ? She knew perfectly well that she was heiress to a very large fortune ; for alas ! poor girl, the knowledge of this fact had been the source of all the misery of her life. But hateful as the consciousness of this had so often been to her, it might at least, she thought, sare her from any feeling of gratitude for having a suitable house prepared for her. *' Gratitude should be a delightful feeling ! " thought the melancholy girl. *' It should be such as I used to feel for my dear mother, every day, and all day long. . . . Such as I have felt, and must ever feel, for llupert, though he does not love me ! But before he knew what love meant, he saved my life at the risk of his own. I can feel grateful for that . . . but I cannot, and will not, feel grateful because a man thinks it proper to pre- pare a fine house for himself and his family to live in. Count Hernwold is quite aware of the large fortune which must even- tually be mine, and the fine house will some day or other be paid for by my father." There was no form of words, however, that she could hit upon, by which she could civilly remind her noble lover of this fact ; and at length it occurred to her, that the only means by which she could escape his annoyance, which she shrank from as a very painful addition to the various other miserable feelings which beset her, was by suggesting to her father, that it would be more accordant to the dignity of her position, as his daughter and his heiress, that the house preparing for her should be prepared by him, and not by the Count. AYhen she began her harangTie, her father prepared to listen to her with a smiling countenance, his hands cosily folded over each other, and with the self-satisfied look which he generally wore, when she was talking to him, and which indicated that ho was sure of being pleased — as, of course, he could not fail to be — as he considered every word she uttered, was spoken, as it were, by inheritance, and therefore, in fact, emitted by himself. It was probably this persuasion which at once reconciled him to her proposal, which, to say the truth, was extremely far from being a rational one, and could only be excused in the poor captious bride-elect, by her profound ignorance of the ordinary usages of the world in matters of business. FAiriLT PEIDE. 173 The superb baron himself, however, was certainly not much more familiar with such matters than she was ; but, never- theless, it is possible he might have demurred a little at hearing this unexpected proposal, even though it proceeded from her, had it not been that it touched directly upon his ruling passion for being the first, and, in fact, the only very important person, in every business that was going on. This was quite enough to procure his consent, and ensure his perfect happiness, as long as the bustling business lasted. Of course, the first thing to be done, was to write to Count Hernwold, informing him of his paternal wish to be himself the purchaser, and the arranger of all the domestic elegancies and comforts which were to make the splendid dwelling provided for his d[iughter, worthy of the highly-honoured lady who had been selected as its mistress. The Count was a good deal surprised by the receipt of this epistle, as he had certainly expected that the furnishing the elegant dwelling he had chosen was to be done at his expense, as well as the purchasing it. However, he was not a person to be at all likely to quarrel with such an arrangement as that now proposed. He was certainly possessed of a large landed property, but being one of those self-indulgent individuals who never refuse themselves any gratification as long as it is in their power to obtain it, he was as little desirous of spending money, when the doing so would not increase his gratification, as of sparing it when it would. He wrote, therefore, a sort of playful answer to the baron's pompous announcement of his intentions, declaring that to him, and to him only, would he have yielded the delightful task of decorating the palace of his future sovereign. Count Hernwold, in fact, was one of those gentlemen who, as the saying goes, had lived all the days of his life ; and the con- sequence of so doing was, that, beautiful as he thought the Baroness Gertrude von Schwanberg, he would no more have thought of marrying her, than of marrying her maid Teresa, had he not known her to be an heiress, as well as a beauty. It is certain, however, that it had never entered his head as a thing possible, that he might immediately turn her wealth to account, by getting her father to furnish his house for him ; and the proposition aftorded him all the pleasure of a most agreeable surprise, as well as being extremely convenient. Kot indeed that Count Hernwold contemplated any difficulty in achieving this necessary work himself, for his estate was large. 174 geetei'De; oe, and his credit good ; but, neyerthclcss, like most other men of fashion, he would occasionally have been well pleased to have found a little more ready money at his bankers than he had been able to leave there. For, though by no means deserving the epithet oi gamller, Count Hernwold liked play, and would at any time have considered himself as being in an extremely disagree- able position had he entered a salon where this pleasant excite- ment was to be found, with the consciousness that he had better not play, because it would be inconvenient to him to lose. jSTor was he by any means sufficiently in love to prevent his still wishing to pass the last animating hour or two of the day, where play, in a gentlemanlike and honourable style, was going on. Eut since the important affair of his marriage had been ar- ranged, he had been rather shy of risking the price even of a bracelet or a mirror, for a certain degree of inconvenience would have been the consequence, had he lost it ; and Count Hernwold detested inconveniences of all kinds, as heartily as we are assured the evil spirit hates holy water. The having his fine house furnished for him, without his pro- ducing a single rap to pay for it, was, therefore, an accident quite as welcome as it appeared to him whimsical, and he became gayer and more debonair than ever. But the relief which this arrangement produced to Gertrude, was great indeed ; for not only did it exonerate her from the necessity of listening to daily statements of the gallant and tender anxiety with which the Count was decorating their future blissful abode ; but she was relieved also from the heavy necessity of hearing her father rehearse, in his most oppressive style of elo- quence, her extreme good fortune in having captivated a noble- man, whose personal merits, and high connections, rendered him, in every way, so suitable an alliance for the heiress of Schwan- berg. That her aching, weary heart felt this relief, and that she was thankful for it, is most certain ; but she scarcely allowed herself to dwell upon the consolation, gTcater still, of being left alonCy positively alone, for several hours in every day ; for the baron, though deeply conscious that he was the source and head-spring of everything that influenced the destiny of his family, had never been a busy-body, and would at the present crisis have felt greatly at a loss how to perform the task he had undertaken, had he not enlisted Madame Odenthal as his assistant. The time had been, when Gertrude would have very painfully FAMILY PEIDE. 175 missed the society of this long-tried and mnch-loved friend during the many hours of the day that she was djiving ahout with the baron, from shop to shop, and from warehouse to warehouse, in order to assist him in selecting the vast variety of articles neces- sary for completing the task he had undertaken ; but now the case was different. Excepting Paipert himself, his mother was the person with whom she most cbeaded to be tete-a-tete. It is true, that from the time of her engagement to Count Hernwold, Gertrude had become a very altered person to her. She was, indeed, still observant, still gentle, still careful of her accommodation and comfort ; but the tone of loving familiarity was i;one. Had Madame Odenthal believed such a change possible, she would have thought that Gertrude no longer considered her as a person with whom she could converse in a tone of perfect equality; but as often as this obvious idea suggested itself, it was very nearly rejected, both by the clear head and the warm heaii; of the affectionate Englishwoman. Had she not known her from a child ? And was it possible that such a nature as she had watched in Gertrude for long years of the most familiar union, could be suddenly changed in every feeling of the heart, and every process of the understanding, because she was about to be married to a middle-aged gentleman, whom her father had chosen for her husband ? The answer to this questioning would have been a decisive and indignant negative, had not facts occurred too strong to be set aside by any foregone conclusions. Gertrude contrived, without any very positive breach of civility, however, to keep out of her way ; and from the very day that her engagement to Count Hernwold was announced, the good woman had never found herself tete-a-tete with for her five minutes together, without the occurrence of something or other which was converted into an excuse for their being separated. The position of Madame Odenthal in the family, where for the last year or two she had found so comfortable a home, was in- deed strangely altered in more ways than one, for "\vithin a week or so of the painful change she had remarked in the manners of Gertrude towards her, she endured the great additional sorrow of being informed that her worthy brother, Father Alaric, had been suffering from a severe illness, and that he expressed so earnest a wish for the immediate return of Eupert, as to leave no possibility of refusing it. 176 • GEETErDE; OE, Eupert himself, though so long an alien from the little vicar- age which had hcen his early home, testified as much eagerness to comply with this request, as the good priest in making it ; and within twenty-four hours after receiving the letter which sum- moned him, Ptupert had taken a hurried and agitated leave of his mother, and of the family of which he had so long been a member, and was on his road to his former humble dwelling at Francberg. CHAPTEE XXYIL Goon Madame Odenthal was sorry for the illness of her brother, and sony for the absence of her son ; but she was considerably comforted, especially for the last-mentioned misfortune, by the marked change which again became visible in the manner of the capricious Gertrude towards herself. AVhether it were occasioned by the pity she felt for her, for having lost the society of her son, who was so justly beloved, or from a feeling that, perforce, she must be well-nigh weary of the assiduous attendance required of her by the indefatigable baron ; in short, whatever might be the cause, it very speedily became evident to Madame Odenthal that there was no longer to be any estrangement between her and her long-loved Gertrude. Kow then, that they were again on their former confidential terms together, her dame de compagnie ventured to hint to her that she thought the baron was going to greater expense than could be necessary in furnishing and decorating a house which was to be her residence for only a third part of every year. " If I mistake not," she added, ''you are to pass four months out of every twelve at your own beautiful Schloss Schwanberg, four at Count Hcrnwold's fine place in Hungary, and the remain- ing foui' — merely the winter season, you know — in Paris." Gertrude appeared to listen to her very attentively, and she had taken the hand of her old friend in hers, and fixed her loving eyes upon her face, in a way that could not leave any doubt as to her being fully engrossed by what she was saying ; and yet there was something absent and vague in the tone in which she rJQIILY PEIDE. 177 replied — "I suppose papa thinks that I shall like to have fine furniture, and, if so, it is very good-natiu'ed of him to take so much trouble about it." "And is he right, Gertrude?" returned Madame Odenthal, looking anxiously at her. *' Will it give you great pleasure to have all this fine, costly furniture ? " Gertrude Tvithdrew her eyes from the examining glance of her companion, but she did not withdraw her hand, sitting for a minute or two motionless and silent. " Answer me, dear love ! " said ILadame Odenthal. " What was your question, dear ? " returned Gertrude, shaking her head, as if to rouse herself from the fit of absence into which she seemed to have fallen. " I asked you, dear Gertrude, whether your father was right in thinking that it will give you pleasure to have your house so splendidly furnished ? " Gertrude was again silent for a few seconds, and then replied, in a voice that expressed anything rather than anticipated pleasure, "If the house, and all that he is putting into it, were more splendid than any other in Paris, or in the world, it would not, and could not, create in me the slightest sensation of satis- faction." The delicate complexion of Madame Odenthal turned from pale to red, and from red to pale again. The gloomy words, and still more gloomy manner in which the unfortunate Gertrude made this decltiration, seemed in an instant to remove everything like doubt from the mind of her truly unhappy friend, and to realise all the miserable suspicions which had long haurrted her respect- ing the real state of poor Gertrude's feeling on the subject of her approaching marriage. Madame Odenthal had been long debating with herself as to whether it would be most kind or most cruel to encourage the poor girl in opening her heart to her on the subject; and it is probable the decision would have been in favoiu' of confidence, instead of reserve, had it not been for the again-and-again re- jected, and the again-and-again returning, suspicion of the real object of the unfortunate heii'ess's aftection. It was this which prevented her from seeking a confidence which she cbeaded to receive ; and even now, when the avowal of her repugnance to the marriage seemed more than half made, she affected to mis- understand the feeling she expressed, and replied, " I quite agTee with you, my dear, in thinking that many people waste both time and money very idly in the decoration of theii' dweU- 13 178 geeteude; oe, ings. Comfort is, in my opinion, much more essential than splendour." '' Comfort, Madame Odenthal? Comfort for me ? Where am I to look for it? In uniting myself to such a man as Count Hernwold?" Eelicved by these words, melancholy as they were, from the dread which haunted her of hearing the name of the man she preferred to him, Madame Odenthal felt her courage revive, and, after giving a moment's rapid reflection to the subject, replied: " If you do not love him, Gertrude, it is not yet too late to say so. Your father's love for you is unbounded; and did he know that you disliked Count Hernwold, he would speedily find means to break the engagement." ''IS'o, Madame Odenthal!" replied Gertrude, gently; "my father's love for me is not unbounded; but, even if it were so, it might not be in his power to make me happy. But this is idle talking. Your observation would not be useless, if you were to say that my good father loves me dearly. I know he does ; I know that he loves me so dearly, as well to merit that I should love him a little in return. Eut I fear I have never yet loved him as I ought to do. My spirit is a perverse spirit. There is somethins: within me that will not let me act as I would wish to do. Eut hitherto, perhaps, he has never had the misfortune to discover how very far I am from being what he wishes me to be . . . and from what he believes I am ! He may be dead, and I too, my dear old friend, before I shall find so good an opportunity of pleasing him. I am quite determined to marry Count Hern- wold. You must see, as plainly as I do, that papa is perfectly delighted — perfectly happy — at the idea of my doing so. It can make very little difi'erence to me who it is I marry ; and I do not mean that you, or anybody else, should ever hear me com- plain about it. Only I don't see any reason why I should add to my sins by pretending to love the carpets and curtains." "Madame Odenthal felt relieved. She plainly perceived that Gertrude had no intention of so completely taking her into her confidence as to allude to any other attachment ; and whether she were right or wrong in suspecting that her own son was the object of it, she being left in apparent ignorance, was, on every account, most desirable. Gertrude had, fortunately, not been looking at her ; indeed, she evidently avoided doing so, fixing her eyes immovably upon a fragment of silk which she was unravelling. Lightly, therefore, and with no appearance of suspecting that PAMILY PEIDE. 179 more was meant than met the ear, Madame Odenthal acquitted her of all blame for not being more in love with her line furniture, and even ventured to say that she began to wish the baron him- self had a less violent passion for it. "I am certainly very ignorant in all such matters," said the good woman; "bnt it seems to me that your papa must be spending a very large sum of money. Did he ever tell you, my dear, the amount of the sum which it was his purpose to expend on vour furniture ? " Gertrude smiled. *'I thought you knew my father better than you now appear to do," said she. "I can no more fancy that he would eonde- Bcend to name a limit to the sum he destined for such a purpose, than that he would inquire how much the dinner of to-morrow would cost, before he sat down to it. Xor do I suppose that there is any reason in the world why he should do so." lladame Odenthal did not immediately reply to this ; and, indeed, her silence lasted so long, that Gertrude, looking up from her ravel- lings, said, with some quickness, "What are you thinking of, dear friend"? " "You will laugh at me again, if I tell you," replied Madame Odenthal, shaking her head. "And if I do, you ought to be glad of it. I was afraid that I had left off laughing. I suppose it is the near approach of all the prodigious splendour which is awaiting me, that has made me so grave. I really wish you would say something to make me laugh." "But perhaps it may be less at my wit, than my folly, that you will feel inclined to do so," said the good woman, colouring; " but I will boldly tell you my thoughts for all that. My opinion is, dear Gertrude, that your papa is scarcely aware of the large amount of debts that he has already contracted. We are all so accustomed, you know, to consider his great estates as bringing him a revenue beyond what he can wish to spend, that I should not wonder if he had adopted the same idea himself ; and that he may hardly be aware of the great difference of going on as he did at Schloss Schwanberg, and as he is doing now, at Paris." Gertrude listened to this very unexpected statement with all the attention it deserved, and certainly felt no inclination to laugh at it ; but nevertheless, she was so nearly in the state of mind which Madame Odenthal attributed to her father, that her words produced sui^prise, rather than alarm. After silently pondering for a minute or two upon what ithe 13—2 180 geethude; or, had heard, she replied, " I am very glad you have thus spoken to me, my dear friend, because the mere possibility of such a want of thought and calculation on the part of my dear, generous father, is quite enough to make me anxious to know whether there is any, even a remote, possibility that such may be the case. It really never occurred to me to think of such a possibility before ; but now that the thought has been awakened, you may depend upon it, that it shall not be permitted to go to sleep again till you and I are both of us quite sure that it may slumber and sleep in safety ! " "What Gertrude thus promised, she speedily perfonued ; and it was by no means very difficult to find an opportunity for doing so ; for the very next time she saw her father, he was, if possible, more than usually full of his new-found occupation, and more than usually earnest in his declaration, that the mansion of Madame la Comtesse de Hernwold should be one of the most splendidly furnished in Paris. Upon this hint she spoke, smilingly asking him if he had ever calculated what the amount of the entire cost would be, when the whole of his plans were completed. He stared at her in return to this question with the most genuine astonishment, not altogether unmixed with dis- pleasure. "Is it possible, Baroness Gertrude," he said, ''that the approaching change in your situation can have inspired you already so much with the spirit of a thrifty housewife, as to render such an inquiry on your part serious ? I flatter myself that my daughter has never yet had occasion to trouble herself by calculating the expense of any purchase which it may have been her pleasure to make ; and I conceive myself fully justified in assuring her that the nobleman who has been accepted as the future husband of my heiress, is by no means likely to be so sordid in his motives as to render any such anxieties needful, or, in fact, in any way proper, for the future. jS'ever again, Gertrude, let me hear you express an idea so every way unbecoming your station ; and, at the same time, so every way unnecessary super- fluous, and, in fact, ridiculous." This speech was certainly the nearest approach to real scolding that had ever been addressed to Gertrude, and for a minute or two she felt rather at a loss how to receive it. But it required no longer interval to bring to her heart the conviction, that whether scolded or not, it was her duty to listen to him with respectful attention, and not to permit herscK to be too certain that the FAMILY PETDE. 181 baron might not be right in his estimates, and herself and Madame Odenthal wrong. At the present moment, however, all she could do was to mollify the angry nobleman's offended feelings by the frank con- fession that she certainly was mnch too ignorant of the subject they had been discussing, to give any opinion upon it ; and finally restored his good humour, by impressing a gentle kiss upon his forehead, and assuring him that she was only afraid of his being too generous. CHAPTEE XXYIII. IfoTWiTHSTAXDiyG the indignation both experienced and expressed by the baron at listening to this unexpected remon- strance from his daughter, the said remonstrance did not alto- gether fall to the ground. It is, nevertheless, certain that the Baron von Schwanberg said no more than he felt, when he pronounced that such fears as his daughter had expressed, were alike unfounded as to fact, and injurious as to the imputation they cast upon his discretion. But the baron was a great smoker, and ere he laid aside, that night, the splendid apparatus by means of which he indulged this habit, the idea occurred to him, that although Gertrude had talked not only like a child, but a silly one, it certainly was not impossible that among the vast variety of things which he had ordered, there might be some of a higher value, or, at any rate, of a higher price than he was aware of. He was ready to confess, too — at least to himself and his meerschaum — that he had never made himself very familiar with the price of ornamental furniture in any land, and that it was not unlikely that it might be rather particularly costly at Paris. All the sage reflections brought him at length to the conviction, that it might be as well to order some few of the tradesmen he had employed to send in their accounts. And as one wise thought very often begets another, he also determined, just before he settled himself to sleep that night, that he would also send to the banker, with whom, on his arrival, he deposited the sheaf of bills which he had brought with him on arriving at Paris, and which 1S2 geetPwIJDe; oe, had been since augmented by rents transmitted to him by his tenants in the country, in order to learn what balance he had in their hands. The good-natured reader could only be pained were I to attempt entering into particulars either respecting tradesmen's accounts, or the banker's either. Suffice it to say, that the discrepancy between the amount of what he owed, and what was due to him, Avas great indeed ! It was so great, in fact, as for a long time to appear to him absolutely incredible ; and the terrible process of proving to him that a hundred thousand taken from eighty thou- sand, left, or rather foimd, a deficit of twenty thousand, was not performed by the unfortunate Madame Odenthal, without a degree of dif&culty which amounted to very positive suffering. Gertrude was not permitted to be present at any of the painful scenes which j)receded his final conviction, that he actually owed, after a three months' residence in Paris, twenty thousand francs more than he had, at the moment, ready money to pay. It was in vain that Madame Odenthal pointed out to him the very consolatory fact, that the deficiency was by no meaus large enough to occasion him any permanent inconvenience ; and that if he would please to write a letter to Eupcrt, directing him what tenants to apply to, and furnishing him with the necessary authority for collecting the sum required, he would be sure to transmit the money to the Paris banker long before any of the tradesmen he employed would think of troubling him about the payment of their accounts. The baron listened to her with a countenance that became redder and fiercer with every word she spoke ; so much so, indeed, that she became frightened, and stopped short, long before she had said all that it was in her power to say, respecting the perfect facility with which a gentleman in his position might obtain what he wanted without the slightest difiiculty of any kind. "What ! " he exclaimed, in the very loudest tone to which his very loud voice could be raised; "what! do you suppose I am going to send about begging petitions to my tenants, imploring them, for charity, to pay me my rents before they are due ? "VYoman ! are you mad ? "What have you ever seen in my conduct, or in my character, which can justify your holding so base an opinion of me ? /go begging to my tenants? I ? And which among them do you think would do me the great wrong of believing that such a message could come from me ? Your son is a very worthy, respectable youth, my good woman, and the manner in which I have permitted him to domesticate himself FAMILY PEIDT3. 183 ■witli me, has conferred upon him a cTegi'ee of distinction which nothing else conhl have done ; and, as you must have observed both in his case and your own, has induced that distinguished portion of society to which I belong, to permit his approach to thpm, as if, in some mysterious manner, he really belonged to their class. I am as much aware the effect my patronage has produced, as cither you or he can be; but I am not so bewildered in intellect as" to suppose that if he were to be the bearer of such a message to my tenants, as you have named, they would any one of them believe that such a message ever came from me." Being here somewhat out of breath, from the extreme vehemence with which he had spoken, the baron paused; and poor lladame Odenthal took advantage of the interval to say, that though quite aware that nothing but his great and most condescending kindness had enabled her son Eupert to enter into such society as that to which he had been introduced by his generous master; yet still she thought that his character for truth in the neighbourhood where he was best known, would ensure his being believed, let him deliver to the good people whatever message he was charged with. The interval during which she had pronounced these few words, and which Avas accorded to her by the absolute necessity of breathing, in which the baron had found himself, had so far enabled him to subdue the first emotions of the anger she had excited, as to enable him to reply to her in a tone of comparative tranquillity. "And do you really believe, my good woman," he began: ''do you really believe that there is any man, woman, or child (above babyhood,) residing upon my estates, who could be persuaded by your son, let his reputation for truth be what it may, that I could have been guilty of such conduct as you now propose to me?" And here the baron positively showed his teeth, as if he were really laughing. It is said that the merely placing the features in this position, will often restore the feeling of good humour, as well as the appearance of it, and it might have been so on the present occasion, in the case of the baron, for it is certain that the extremity of his wrath against Madame Odenthal seemed to have relaxed, and he dismissed her, rather stiifiy it must be confessed, but without any further appearance of positive anger, saying, "There! you may go now, my good woman. You have been, useful to me in going through these long accounts, and I am no longer displeased with you. Indeed, I feel that it would be a great folly in me to feel any lasting displeasui'e, merely because 184 geeteude; oe, MY ideas of what is riglit and honouraWe, differ from those of a person in so very different a situation. Go, my good ^ladame Odenthal, but remember that you are not, on any account, to inform my daughter of the unpleasant discovery which I have made. If I have got in a scrape, I know perfectly well how to get out of it ; but I will not permit the tranquillity of the Baroness Gertrude to be disturbed for a moment. You understaad me?" "Certainly," replied the good woman, still looking somewhat frightened. "The Baroness Gertrude," she added very earnestly, " shall never become acquainted with what has occurred through me." "Very well, then," was the rejoinder, uttered in a much more condescending tone than was usual with him on any occasion ; "if you will faithfully keep that promise to me, I will, on my side, promise you to forget the offence your strange proposal of my begging assistance from my own tenants, occasioned me." And so they parted ; the baron, with the appearance of being suddenly restored to good humour, and Madame Odenthal, with a very painful burden of sadness at her heart, from the persuasion that his profound ignorance, both on the subject of buying the things, and on the subject of paying for them, could scarcely fail of producing painful consequences for her beloved Gertrude, who she was only too sure was in no condition to endui'e new soitows of any kind. This melancholy insight, however, into her state of mind, was the result of no confidential disclosures on the part of Gertrude ; but, in truth, no one, excepting her blind father, could have known her as she had been, and seen her as she was now, without perceiving that she was in no condition to endure any new anxiety well. But if he had marked her pale check and heavy eye, he would have thought but little about it, and that little would only have gone to interpret the change into a sympathetic feeling with what he had experienced himself. His head was giddy with all the splendid predictions with which he was perpetually regaling himself; and if he had thought about it at all, he would assuredly have accounted for the alteration, by telling himself that it was veiy natural, and that any girl might feel a little nervous and overcome, at the idea of being the mistress of such a house as he was preparing for her. But, notwithstanding all this, he was sufhciently awake to the necessity of paying his debts, to prevent his losing any time in FAMILY TEIDE. 185 commencing the operations by whicli it was his purpose to achieve this desirable object. His first step was to write the following concise epistle to his intended son-in-law : — '*My deae CorxT, ** Will yon have the kindness to bestow an early visit npon me to-morrow morning ? I will not beguile you with any hope of beholding the young lady who is so soon to have the honour of becoming Countess of Hernwold, for the visit I ask for is for myself, and not for her. *'Eelieve me, dear Count, "Your truly attached, and " Very devoted friend, ' ' YOX ScnWA2s"EEEG. ' ' This epistle was immediately dispatched by the hands of an intelligent messenger, with strict orders not to return till he had himself placed it in the hands of Count Hernwold. This command was both speedily and accurately executed ; and the messenger brought back a verbal, but very courteous reply, that the Count would wait upon him at an early hour on the following morning. This was performed to the letter ; for Baron von Schwanberg had but just quitted the breakfast-table, when his expected visitor was announced. The meeting was exactly everything that a meeting shoiild be between two noble gentlemen about to be so closely united. It was more than merely cordial — it was really affectionate. As soon as they were seated, the baron said, with the very slightest shade of embarrassment imaginable, " I am afraid you will accuse me of being a very careless father-in-law when I tell you, my dear Count, that I find I have not cash enough at my bankers to pay for the furniture I have been purchasing as a present to you and Gertrude." Count Hernwold very perceptibly changed colour, bat answered, with a bow and something like a smile, " There are many persons in Paris to whom such a discovery might be very disagreeable ; but it is impossible I can believe, for a moment, that you are one of them. The Baron von Schwanberg is not likely to find any great difficulty in bringing his banker's account into good order again." *'I wish I could tell you that you were right in thinking so, 186 geetetjde; ob 3 my good friend; but, unfortunately, my case is exactly the reverse. Instead of my not finding any difficulty in setting this matter right, I am extremely sorry to say that I know it to be impossible that I should do so. "Impossible, Sir, that you should be able to settle your account satisfactorily with your banker ?" responded the astonished Count, with a look of unmistakable dismay. " I must suppose that you are jesting with me." a -£^,r^j ^Q jjQ^ adopt such an idea as that," replied the baron, with considerable dignity. " I should be extremely sorry. Count, that you should suppose me capable of such idle levity as jesting upon a matter of business. I desired you to call upon me this morning expressly for the purpose of telling you of the foolish blunder I have made in buying more furniture for the house than I have money to pay for, and also to beg of you to help me out of the scrape. I presume, my dear Sir, that you will have no objection to my ordering some of the heavier bills to be sent in to you ? I hate the notion of being in debt to these people, and, therefore, I sent to you as soon as ever I found out how the case stood." Had the astonishment of Count Hernwold been less on hearing this most unexpected declaration, it is probable that he would have interrupted the august speaker before he had concluded his harangue ; but, for a moment, he really looked and felt as if he had been thunder-struck. He speedily recovered himself, how- ever, sufficiently at least, to rise from his chair, which he almost threw across the room in the unbounded vehemence of his indig- nation, and to say: "I presume, Sir, that you trust to your age as your protection against my just indignation. I have every reason to be thankful to your creditors for the impatience of their demands upon you. Had it not been for this, I might have been the victim of the plot so infamously laid for entrapping me into a marriage with your daughter, under the scandalous pretence of her having a large fortune. Thank heaven, I have escaped ! — and I shall thank yoii, perhaps, for giving me a lesson, which I am not likely to forget to the latest hour of my existence." Having pronounced these words with a vehemence that seemed for a moment positively to stun the astonished baron, he rushed out of the room, without deigning to close the door after him, and screamed the word "coiinox" in such an accent, as he passed the porte cochere, that the porter came forth from his lodge, and looked after him with a very strong persuasion that he had lost his senses. PAMILr PEIDE. 187 The poor barou, meantime, sat for a few moments immovaLly fixed in liis chair, and in a state of indescribable bewilderment. The intellect of the baron was not a very bright, and not a very rapid intellect ; and he had to shnt his eyes, and meditate very profonndly for a minnte or two, before it occnrred to him that the extraordinary scene he had jnst witnessed might . . . nay must, from the impossibility of finding any other cause, have been occasioned by his believing that he, the Earon von Schwan- berg, intended to defrand him of the money he had proj)osed to borrow of him ! Such a suspicion might certainly have been offensive to any gentleman ; but upon the Earon von Schwan- berg, it seemed to fall with a sort of preternatural violence snfiicient to justify his following the base offender, and trampling him under his feet. And, in truth, he rose from his chair, his face the colour of the crimson hangings that adorned his room, and his limbs trembling in every joint, but greatly more from I'age than age. It was, perhaps, fortunate for him that he felt conscious he could not stand, and he, therefore reseated himself; for, had he at that moment possessed the power of overtaking the man who had offended him, such a scene might have ensued as would not greatly have redounded to the credit of either of the noble gentle- men. The fii'st moments which followed his reseatins: himself were CD passed in a state of agitation much too violent for his mind, such as it was — poor old gentleman ! — to decide upon the line of con- duct which it would be best for him to pursue under the circum- stances ; and, in fact, the first symptom he gave of having, in some degree, recovered his startled wits, was his pulling the bell- rope which was ever and always attached to his own particular chair. It was not, however, so much the act of ringing the bell which proved his recovery from bewilderment, as the use he made of the assistance it brought him. " Desire Madame de Odenthal to come to me immediately," was the command he gave. And, accordingly, Madame de Odenthal appeared before him with as little delay as possible. '' Sit down, my good friend; I wish to speak to you," were the words with which he greeted her. Now, most assuredly, the Baron von Schwanberg had ever behaved with the most perfect civility to Rupert's mother ; nay, since, by the agency of Gertrude's lace and velvet, he had made 188 geetetjde; ob, the remarkable discoTery that her near approach to his own greatness had in some degree infected her with gi'eatness also, he had often treated her with some small degree of ceremony and politeness ; but he had never before called her his *' good friend." She was immediately conscious that something extraordinary must have occurred to produce so remarkable an effect, and her woman's wit immediately suggested the probability that this something was connected with the unexpected pecuniary difficul- ties with which she had been made acquainted. She was too discreet, however, to utter a word of any kind, and silently obeyed his command, by placing herself in the chair to which he had pointed. It would have been a gTcat relief to the baron if she had been a little less profoundly respectful. If she would only have asked him what he was pleased to want, it would have been a help to him. But after they had both sat profoundly silent for several seconds, the proud old man was obliged to commence the history of the insult to which he had been exposed, without the assist- ance of any preface whatever. The first sound he uttered was again a groan ; and then he began as follows : *' Did I not know, Madame de Odenthal, that it is impossible you should for a moment believe that I should mistake, misre- present, or in any way exaggerate, any fact which I take the trouble of relating, I should doubt your power of receiving, as credible, the statement I am now about to make to you." *' Indeed, Sir, you are right in thinking that your word cannot be doubted by me. "^""hatever you state as a fact, must, I know, be considered as such by you." ''Considered? Considered so bynie? Do you suppose I do not know a fact from a falsehood, my good woman ? But this is only nonsense and idle talking. Listen to me, and you shall hear what you must believe to be credible, only because I state it." 3tladame Odenthal meekly bowed her head, and the baron re- sumed. "Madame de Odenthal! I have been insulted! grossly in- sulted ! Heee, in my own dwelling, where no man could mistake me for another, I have been insulted ! " And having said these terrific words, he again emitted a groan, which seemed not only to proceed from his mouth, but from his whole large person, so deep and so awful was the sound. F.iiIILT PEIDE. 189 Madame Odenthal looked, and certainly felt, frigVilened ; and "\Yould probably have both looked, and felt, more frightened still, had she not been aware of the magnifying medium through which the Baron Yon Schwanberg looked at everything which concerned himself. She clasped her hands, however, threw up her eyes, and listened to him altogether in a manner which led him to think that it was very probable the statement he had already made would have been too much for her, and that she might have fainted at his feet, had not her profound respect for him, acted as an antidote, if not positively as a restorative. From this point, however, the discourse between them went on with a much nearer approximation to common sense, than was often to be found in the conversation of the baron, when either himself, or anything belonging to him, was the theme ; and as no other themes possessed much interest for him, Madame Oden- thal had great reason to be satisfied at the eifect which her gentle commentaries on the actual state of his affairs produced. As her genuine indignation at Count Hernwold's conduct was quite as sincere as that of the baron himself, they had the advan- tage of standing side by side, instead of face to face, during the discussion which followed ; and the consequence of this favour- able position was, that before the baron returned her parting salu- tation, she had succeeded in convincing him that the best, and, in fact, the only way of punishing the recreant suitor as he deserved, was by making him clearly understand that the suspicions he had expressed respecting the state of the baron's finances, were as false as they were sordid. So . soothing, in fact, and so delightful, was the picture she drew of the false noble's discomfiture, upon discovering that the trifling embarrassment which the baron had mentioned. to him, arose solely from the extreme liberality which which he was accustomed to treat his tenants, that she carried with her, on leaving him, his full permission to write to Eupert, authorising him to apply to one or two notoriously wealthy individuals among his tenants, desiring them to accommodate him, by forestalling their rent-day by a few weeks. This important point settled, the greatly comforted Madame Odenthal proposed to take her leave ; but ere she had reached the door, she was recalled by the voice of the baron, who fixing his eyes on her as she again approached him, said with a very piteous expression, and heaving a profound sigh — " But how shall I break this di'eadful news to my unhappy daughter ? " 190 geetetjde; oe, The thouQ-htfiil, meditative, quietly- observing Madame Oden- thal, had never obtruded herself on the confidence of Gertrude, and no single syllable had ever passed between them whieli might justify the mother of Rupert in believing that the heart of the resolutely-silent heiress was too irrevocably his, to permit her ever being the wife of another, without much great and last- ing misery. But nevertheless she did believe it. Had the object of this secret preference been any other but her own son, the high moral rectitude of lladame Odenthal, as well as her fond, womanly heart, would have revolted against witness- ing her union with another; but as it was, she felt that she could in no possible way interfere to prevent it, without a species of treachery, and breach of trust, which she could not contem- plate for a moment, without rejecting it as impossible. Eespecting the feelings of Gertrude, she had no doubt ; but the case was very different respecting the feelings of her son. There certainly had been moments when neither his habitual reserve, nor the real wavering of his doubting and capricious heart, could prevent her suspecting that he had known Gertrude too long and too well, to see her become the wife of another, without sufiering ; but, either from the uncertainty in which she still remained as to his real feelings, or because her woman's heart taught her to hiow, that let the sentiments of her son be what they might, the misery which threatened Gertrude out- weighed a thousand-fold any that threatened him, she felt in- finitely more pleased by this rupture on her account, than on his. At the moment when the voice of the baron called her back, she was (perhaps unconsciously) hastening her steps, in order to enjoy the unhoped-for happiness of seeing Gertrude's sweet face again turned towards her with a genuine smile ; and she herself, good lady, was for one short moment in great danger of smiling too, as the words of the dismal-looking baron reached her ear. Eut she had not been so long domesticated with the Baron von Schwanberg, without being able to check an ill-timed smile, and it was with a countenance of very suitable gravity, that she again approached his chair. " How will she ever get over it? " resumed the baron, clasping his hands, and looking the very picture of woe. Madame Odenthal gently shook her head, and looked very grave. " "Why do you not answer me? " cried the impatient and im- FAMILY PRIDE. 191 peiioiis baron. ^' How is it to be clone ? How is it to be broken to her ? " " If I might take the liberty of advising," replied the dame de compagnie^ in the gentlest of all possible voices, '' I would say that it might be safer for her to learn this sudden and very start- ling information from me, than from yonr Lordship." *' Safer? " repeated the baron, in an accent of great alarm. " Safer? Do you really think that this frightful news will en- danger her health ? . . . . Madame Odenthal ! I will challenge the villain ! My hand, old as it is, can still handle a sword ! My child, my daughter, my heiress, shall not die unavenged." Madame Odenthal deserved great credit for the manner in which she listened to this heroic burst of paternal feeling. For one short moment she very wisely remained silent, to give him time to recover himself, so that he might comprehend her words ; and then she said, " j^o, my lord baron, I apprehend no danger to her life from this disclosure, nor even to her health ; provided the intelligence be communicated with caution. Women are, of course, better able to judge than any man can be, how far a pain- ful fact should be softened, or revealed by degrees. Let me undertake this painful task. Sir ! Much, and deeply, as I feel upon this most extraordinary occasion, it is impossible but that you. Sir, must feel still more. I know that I can trust myself ; and that should the news I bring affect her nerves, I am well experienced in the best and safest methods of restoring her." The poor baron looked very greatly relieved. ^ *' You are right, my good woman ! Quite right ! Perfectly right ! '' Go then at once, and be sure to make her understand that her feelings shall be treated with the very greatest consideration on my part ; and that I shall even be ready to allow her the interval of several hours to recover herself before we meet." Madame Odenthal waited for no further orders, but glided out of the room with very considerable rapidity. 192 GEKTIirDE; OE, CEAPTEU XXIX. She fouud Gertrude, as she usually found her now, upon enter- ing her morning sitting-room, with much goodly preparation made for sundry sorts of rational occupation. There was a pretty little embroidering-frame on one side of the table, and an exquisitely perfect writing-desk on the other. A little work-box too, which might have served as pattern for that of a notable fairy queen, found room to display itself to great advantage, although the said table had also to accommodate a very miscellaneous and not very sparing collection of books. There were among them, French reviews and English reviews, and rather a queer mixture of philosophical essays, and modern novels in German, French, and English. And in front of all this, on a sofa, precisely the same length as the table, as if they were formed to take care of one another, and resolved to let no- body in between them save their sovereign lady, sat the pale and heavy-eyed Gertrude, with a countenance indicating as little either of the activity or the intelligence which could have pro- fited by all this elaborate preparation, as it is well possible to imagine. She received her old friend, however, with a smile, though a languid one ; and raising herseK from the indolent position which she had chosen in defiance of all the elaborate preparations for industry which were before her, she said, "Have you seen my father yet, dear friend ? Do you think he will come here this morning, to talk again about that weary house ? Oh ! I am so tired of it. And then, dear, kind man, he icill ask, you know, whether I like the things ; and the real truth is, I don't like any of them ! And besides, I happen to have a headache, this morn- ing. Dear, dear Madame Odenthal! don't you think I might take a drive with you in the Bois de Boulogne, instead of talking about the house ? I do assure you, it will do my head good." " Yes, my dear, I do not see any reason why you should not do so. I will, if you please, ring and order the carriage directly." "Oh! thank you, dearest! it will be such a relief! I will get ready, instantly ! " FAMILY TRIDE. 193 And so saying, Gertrude pushed away her heautiful table, and stood up, " Sit down ap,-ain, my dear, for one moment, for I want to speak to you. AVe shall not lose time, for I have rang the bell, and it must take a few minutes, you know, before the carriage can come round." Gertrude reseated herself, poor girl ! very meekly, saying, with a sigh, "And you,- too, have something to say to me. You cannot think how I hate those words ! It is what papa, and Teresa, and everybody says, when they are going to plague me about the house, and all the rest of it." The door was here opened by a servant, and the carriage ordered, ** Is it to come round directly, Madame ? " inquired the man. " AYe shall be ready in half-an-hour," replied Madame Oden- thal. " ITow then, begin!" said Gertrude, with another languid smile. " You must not keep the carriage waiting, you know ; and you must remember the bonnets, and the boots too, for I think I shall get out, and walk." ''You shall do that, and everything else you like, if you will but listen to me patiently for a minute or two ; but I cannot promise that my talk ;.'iall keep quite clear of the house.''^ Gertrude looked at the cheerful face of her friend as she said this ; and sighed to think how very little of sympathy there ex- isted between them. She uttered no observation upon it, how- ever, but prepared to listen, with the patience she had learned from necessity, to details concerning a future that her soul abhorred. There was something in the subdued and patient expression of Gertrude's pale face, that touched Madame Odenthal to the quick. To relieve her from the misery she was suffering, became her first object; and setting aside all dignity and decorum as com- pletely as if she had never beheld the Baron von Schwanberg in her life, she seized the listless hands of Gertrude, which lay crossed upon the table, and pressed them almost passionately, as she ex- claimed : '' You are not going to have any fine house at all, my dearest Gertrude ! You are not going to have either the house or the husband. Your father and Count Hernwold have had a tremendous quarrel, in which his Countship behaved most scan- dalously, and there is not the slightest chance that you will ever set eves on him asfain." '* Out of the fulness of the heart the mouth speaketh," is, for 14 194 ' CEETErDE; on, the most part, a saw carrying a very respectable clegrce of triitli with it ; but on the present occasion it proved unsound. Tears, in like manner, are pretty generally considered as a proof of sorrow ; but to this also, as a general law, the conduct of my heroine gave a very decided contradiction ; for although the information thus communicated by her dame de compagnie was unquestionably of a nature to fill her heart with various feelings of one ^ort or another, she did not utter a single word ; and although all fore- gone conclusions would lead' to the supposition that the news she thus received must be very particularly agreeable to her, the feelings it produced were demonstrated only by a violent flood of tears. The loving friend, however, whose news had been thus strangely received, seemed in no way either ofi'ended or greatly surprised, by the effect they had j)roduced ; neither had she re- course to the ordinary formula usually resorted to on such oc- casions, consisting of the oft-repeated phrase, '' Compose your- self!" Madame Odenthal did not seem even to wish that she should compose herself ; but after looking at her and her streaming tears with very evident gratification to her own feelings, for a minute or two, she gently walked round both the table and the sofa, and as all access to the young lady was precluded en face, she placed her hands upon her shoulders behind, and drawing her head back against her bosom, impressed once, twice, thrice, a loving kiss upon her forehead. Gertrude twisted herself round by a sudden movement, and laying her head upon the maternal bosom of the friend who bent over her, uttered the emphatic words, ''Thank God! " and then closed her eyes, not as if she were about to faint, or to sleep either ; but as if to indulge for a few delicious moments in some waking dream, that this strange news had suggested to her. " It is a great delight to have you thus, and to see you thus looking the very lean ideal of heart-felt happiness ! " said Madame Odenthal, gazing fondly in her beautiful face ; " but I must not indulge myself in looking at you, Gertrude," she added, " for I only obtained the baron's permission to break this tremendous news to you, on condition of letting him know without delay how you bore it." " Poor, dear papa! " exclaimed Gertrude, with a more playful smile than had curled her lips for many a month. " Indeed, and indeed, I am sony that he should have anything to vex him ; but this, thank Heaven ! comes by no fault of mine ! Go to him, dearest; and tell him that I cauuot lament the loss of a man so FAMILY PRIDE, 195 imwortliy in every way of the honour of being allied to him. Say this, and say it very earnestly. ... And then come back to me, my own dear friend, and let us see whether wc cannot onco more enjoy a diive in the Bois do Eoulogne ! " It was impossible that an embassy could have been more faith- fully or more ably performed ; and Madame Odenthal returned with the welcome assurance, that her report of the high-minded dignity which Gertrude had displayed, had so greatly delighted her anxious father, that he really seemed very cordially to agree with her, in thinhiug the rupture of her marriage a subject rather of joy than of sorrow ; '' and I rather think," she added, " that my good brother Alaric will receive instructions for returning thanks in the chapel, for this new mark of the especial intervention oi Providence in your favour." Gertrude shook her head, and tried to look demure ; but, in truth, not only her own heart, but that of her dame cle compagnie also, felt so wonderfully lightened by this unexpected rescue from the splendid marriage, which had been contemplated with almost equal aversion by both, that neither of them should be too severely censured, if they betrayed a little more gaiety on the occasion than befitted so solemn an affair. Most true is the saying, "everything is comparative;" and what is felt to be happiness at one moment, might be justly held to be the reverse at another, where the circumstances in which it came upon us altered. How else can be explained the buoyant light-heartedness of Gertrude, while conscious that she had fixed a life-long attachment upon one who never did, and never would return it ? Or how can we comprehend the measureless content of her companion, who believed, in her inmost heart (though she had never breathed her miserable conviction to any one), that her dear and only son was, and most probably ever would be, the victim of an attachment which never could, and never ought to be successful ; and which would, in all probability, as far as his happiness was concerned, neutralize all the great and unhoped- for success which his worth and talents had achieved ? Yet, in despite of all this, Madame Odenthal felt as light- hearted as, if her age had been about one-fifth of its actual sum, and she had been setting forth upon an expedition to gather cow- slips for the formation of cool, sweet-scented balls, wherewith to storm the eyes and noses of her vengeance-vowing companions. "Whilst Gertrude, the long-struggling, yet hopeless victim of a passionate attachment as ill-requited as it it was imprudently placed, even more than shared the gay hilarity of her companion; 14—2 196 geeteude; oe, for she not only felt as if she were once more at liberty to enjoy the bright sunshine, and the balmy air, but she felt also that she was relieved from a weight of hopeless and endless misery, which neither earth nor sky could have power to make her forget for a moment. Eut in spite of all this giddy enjoyment, the two friends had wisdom enough left between them, to recollect before the end of their expedition, that the poor, dear, disappointed baron must be immediately relieved from his pecuniary scrape ; and on this point, Madame Odenthal, notwithstanding her usual modesty of demeanour, presumed so far as to assure Gertrude, that to her very certain knowledge, there would not be the slightest difficulty in obtaining from among his wealthy tenants, enough to relieve him from the difficulty he had got into, half-a-dozen times over. "And herein," she added, with an involuntary sigh, "my poor Eupcrt may really be of some use, although removed, by his duty to his uncle, from his personal attendance upon his generous patron. My brother, and Rupert also, know much better than your noble father seems to do, that the tenants of Schwanbcrg are among the most wealthy individuals of the dis- trict ; and, if I mistake not, the only objection to applying to any of them in this manner, arises from the danger of inspiring envy and jealousy in those not applied to." "Decidedly, my good friend," said Gertrude, laughing, "you are a very agreeable companion, especially to a forsaken young woman, whose papa believes himself on the eve of a very dis- graceful bankruptcy. AYere I to consult my own feelings only," she added, "I think I should like to prolong our tcte-d-tcte in this delicious Bois de Boulogne till the sun was down, and the moon up. But let us be virtuous ! Let us remember how very different our condition is from that of poor dear papa ! " " Well, then, we will return to the carriage, and drive home ; and greatly as I have enjoyed our excursion, I approve the doing so, most sincerely," returned her companion. " But what are we to do, dear Gertrude," she added, " about the notice which must be immediately dispatched to the tenants ? I wish Eupert were here ! He might be secretary in this business to some purpose." Gertrude did not immediately answer ; she even tui'ned her head away for a moment, as if some distant object occupied her attention, and then her parasol fell to the ground, and she had to pick it up ; but when this was accomplished, she said with very irreproachable composure and sedateness, " Notwithstanding the FAMILY PEIDE. 197 absence of Eupert, I think this business must be transacted by him. My father has never, since I was born, spoken to me on the subject of his domestic finances, though he has often alluded to the large extent of his property, and, therefore, I should not like, just now, to talk to him on the subject ; but you may, dear friend, with the certainty of being listened to without any painful feeling on his part. If I were you, I should tell him that as his secretary is on the spot, the application for the money had better be made by him ; and all my father need trouble himself to do, is to sign his name to the instructions which you must convey to your son. His signature, without his troubling himself to write a word more, will be quite sufficient, you know, to give authority to the document." Madame Odenthal not only nodded her head in token of ap- proval, but pronounced the words, *' Yes, that will be the best wav," with a decision of tone that left no room for fui'ther clis- cussion. jSTot a word more, therefore, was said on the subject; they mounted the carriage and drove home in excellent spirits, discussing the beauties and deformities of the gay streets through which they drove, with a vivacity which pretty clearly proved that at that moment, at least, they were neither of them very unhappy. CHAPTER XXX. Madame Odexthal wasted not a moment after her return before she waited upon the baron, whom she found seated exactly in the same place in which she had left him, and evidently not at all the better off for the various newspapers which had been placed on the table beside him. She had scarcely entered the door, before he exclaimed in a plaintive voice, *'How is she, Madame Odenthal? How does my insulted daughter endure this indignity? " " Indeed, Sir, she bears it exactly as your daughter should do," was her prompt and cheerful reply. "Her drive has done her much good, she is come back in excellent spirits ; and though she is now lying down, to restore her strength after the shock of 198 GEETErDE; OPi, so very sudclcn a surprise, she bids me to say to you, tliat slie hopes wlicn you meet, you will both feel inclined most cordially to wish each other joy of the fortunate escape you have had. ''Madame de Odenthal!" returned the baron, with great solemnity, *' you have expressed yourself with the greatest pro- priety, in saying that your noble and high-minded young lady had conducted herself in a manner exactly and most admirably becoming my daughter. I own that I am proud of her. The manner in which she seems to have endured this almost incredible outrage, is the result, as I feel deeply convinced, of a further special interposition of Providence in her behalf. Eut although I am fully aware of this, my good friend, and (crossing himself^ duly grateful for this renewed demonstration of the remarkable interposition of Heaven in her favour, yet still my heart is hca-s-y when I think of the difficulties which lie before me ! In what way am I to address myself to the unsuspecting individuals from whom I am to ask the FAvom of a loan ? I protest to you, that I almost doubt whether I shall have sufficient command of my feelings to write the necessary document." '' And why should you write it. Sir ? " said Madame Odenthal, earnestly, but with an air of the very deepest respect. " My son," she continued, " has still the honour of being your secretary, although the illness of his uncle has made it his duty to absent himself for a time. If you will permit me to write, from your dictation, the amount of money which you require for your ac- commodation at this moment, Rupert, on receiving this document, will immediately apply in person to the individuals you may be pleased to name ; and, if this be done by this day's post, I will venture to promise you, Sir, that an order to the amount will be transmitted to your Paris banker before the week is out." The baron's eyes opened themselves to the very widest extent of their capacity, and he stared at the good widow in a manner that very nearly overset her gravity — nearly, but, very fortu- nately, not quite ; for had she smiled at such a moment, the con- sequences might have been very serious indeed. Having finished his astonished survey of her quiet face, he said, not without a little satirical bitterness, " May I take the liberty of asking you, Madame Odenthal, by what means you have made yourself so strangely familiar with the affairs of my tenants, as to enable you to say that such and such among them will, to a certainty, be able and willing to make this partial payment of their rents before they are due? " *' Indeed, Sir, I must be bold enough to say that I think I am FAMILY VUTDt, 199 aljlc to answer your question without any risk of leading you into error. I have lived for many years among the worthy people who have the happiness of being your tenants, and so has my son, Eupert, also ; and we both know, from our long familiarity -with them, and with their prosperous agricultural concerns, both what they would wish to do under such circumstances, and what they are capable of doing, without the slightest inconvenience to themselves." The baron listened to her with a heavy countenance — poor man ! — which at first expressed nothing but anxiety ; but, ere she had finished her speech, some bright idea seemed to have suggested itself, and he replied, in a tone infinitely less gloomy than before, " T\''hat you say, Madame de Odenthal, certainly appears to have great probability in it. You 7mist be likely to know more about these worthy people than I can do. And, moreover, Madame de Odenthal, a thought came into my head while you were speaking, which makes me feel a good deal less uneasy about it than I did before. It is quite certain, you know, that neither the Baroness Gertrude nor myself can desire to remain any longer in this extremely dirty and disagreeable city, than may be absolutely necessary for the settling these trouble- some bills ; and if, as soon as we return to Schloss Schwanberg, I were to invite the tenants that your son, Paipert, may have applied to, as guests to dine at my own table, it strikes me that they may think themselves not badly requited for the service." The countenance of the worthy nobleman had become very radiantly red as he pronounced these words, partly, probably, from a really generous feeling of pleasure at having hit upon so satisfactory a mode of requiting the obligation to which he was obliged to submit, and partly from some little latent doubt whether such a remuneration might not exceed the bounds of propriety. Ent the very cordial smile with which Madame Odenthal listened to this proposal, soothed and comforted him considerably more than he would have chosen to confess, even to himself; and, after the pause of a moment, he positively returned her smile, and said, *'I am not quite sure, Madame de Odenthal, whether, under such very particular cu'cumstances, I might not, with great propriety, shake hands with my guests." **And if you do, my lord baron," she eagerly replied, " I will venture to say, they will consider the whole transaction as one of the most gratifj'ing events that ever occured to them." And here again the baron rewarded her with a very gracious ^00 fiEimirDU; ok, Fmile, and said, in an accent as nearly approacliing tlie jocose as it was possible for him to assume, "I shall begin to think, Madame de Odenthnl, that you have been learning somewhat from my daughter, at the same time that she has been, doubtless, h-arning much from you ; for you have expressed, during the present conversation, sentiments and opinions very much in accordance with those which she has, naturally, inherited from her ancestors. And now then, my good friend," he added, with more condescension of manner and aspect than he had ever manifested to her before, ''you had better return to your young lady. Give her to understand that I no longer feel any embar- rassment about the debts I alluded to, and that I flatter myself we shall very speedily set off on our return to Schloss Schwan- berg. I have little doubt, Madame de Odenthal, that she will agree with mc in thinking that, when the 'Almanack de Gotha ' records the name of a noble as honourable in character as in rank, the fittest residence for him must ever be on his own long- descended property. The busy cities of the earth, Madame de Odenthal, are only suited, as homes, for the dissolute and necessitous." Madame Odenthal listened most attentively to his words, then curtsied, and prepared to depart ; but, before she reached the door, he recalled her, by saying, "Do not, in your statement of what has passed between us, to my daughter, mention my suggestion respecting the propriety of my shaking hands with such tenants as may have advanced my next rents for me. She is a person likely to be very greatly shocked at the idea of any unbecoming degree of familiarity between persons of different stations in life, and I should not wish her to know that I had entertained any such idea, till we have had an opportunity of talking the matter over together in private." Madame Odenthal repeated her reverence, and respectfully pledged her word that his having given utterance to this generous and most condescending idea should for ever remain in secret, till such time as it was his pleasure to refer to it himself. The long interview having at length reached this satisfactory conclusion, Madame Odenthal, at length, made her escape, and retui'ned to Gertrude, not without some slight expectation oi being scolded for the length of her absence ; but Gertrude was evidently in no humour to scold anybody. She playfully received her dame de compagnie with outstretched arms, and, in answer to her apology, said, with gi-eat na'ivetc, "Have you been very long, my dear, kind friend ? I have taken a cup of chocolate, my dear i-AillLY PEIDE. 201 ^Madame Oclentlial, and there stands a cup ready for you. Eut I am not quite certain that I would advise you to take it. I suspect that it is drugged.'' "Drugged, my dear child!" exclaimed her friend. '''What can you mean ?" ' "Do not look so frightened, dearest! I do not ahsolutely mean that it is poisoned. I do not even suspect my ci-devant lover, Monsieur le Comte de Hernwold, of having anything whatever to do with the heverage ; but I cannot help having some slight suspicion that I am intoxicated. How do people feel when they are tipsy, Madame Odcnthal ? They feel inclined to laugh, and dance, and sing, don't they ? . . . "Well ! do you know, that is exactly what I feel now." Madame Odcnthal behaved admirably. It can scarcely be doubted, that a woman possessed in no common degree both of deep feeling and acute intelligence, must, in the course of the weeks, months, and years, which she had lived in the closest intercourse with Gertrude, have discovered, or, at least, suspected, her secret ; but neither on the present occasion, nor on any other, had she ever permitted the slightest symptom of this suspicion to appear. And now, when the bright laughing eyes of Gertrude evidently sought hers, as if to read there more of unreserved sympathy than she had yet expressed, her searching glance was only met by the cordial smile of affectionate pleasure at seeing her look so well and so happy. When the certain and perfectly uncontrolled independence which must devolve on Gertrude, ere very long, (for the baron was an aged father for so young a daughter), and the splendid property which this independence would place at her disposal ; when all this is considered, the conduct of Madame Odcnthal may well be called admirable. Por if she entertained any suspicion of the truth at all, and that she should not was, in fact, impossible, she must have been aware that one leading word from her would have sufhced to make poor Gertrude pour out every secret of her heart before her. Eut by uttering this Avord, Madame Odcnthal would have betrayed her trust — and it was not uttered. Madame Odcnthal was, in truth, an excellent and high-prin- cipled woman ; but, nevertheless, it is certainly possible that she would have found her task a more difficult one, had the judgment which she had formed respecting the feelings of her son, been as correct as that at which she had arrived respecting the young baroness. 202 GEEiETn)E; ob, But she did not believe that ITiipert loved Gertrude. Whether it were that he had more power over himself, and was thereby enabled more effectually to conceal his feelings, or that the wish to do so was in him more earnest, it is certain that, in point of fact, his mother had been kept as completely in doubt, or rather, in ignorance, of his real feelings, as Gertrude herself ; and this want of discernment was so far fortunate, that it made the strict performance of her duty not onlj" more easy, but, in all XDrobability, more effectual also ; for if ^ladame Odenthal had known all that was struggling at his heart, and all that he was suffering from seK-delusion respecting the real feelings of Ger- trude, it would, indeed, have been a difficult task for his mother to have refrained from uttering one single word which might have tunied all his sorrow into joy. Eut in truth, poor Eupert had perfectly succeeded in persuading everybody, except himself, that, as far as love was concerned, he was still completely ''fancy free." It is certain, that in some of her "night thoughts," the watchful dame de compagniG wondered that it could be so ; but such thoughts did not influence her conduct, or demeanour, in any respect ; and when poor Gertrude sometimes paused in the midst of one of her playful sallies, and said, with her speaking eyes still fixed on the face of her friend, ' ' Can you not fancy, Madame Odenthal, how very dreadful it must be, to be married to a man one hates? " The only answer she received was a quiet acquiescence, accompanied by the expression of affectionate hope, that such would never be the fate of her dear Gertrude. But this delightful conversation — for delightful it was — not- withstanding the reserve of ITadame Odenthal, was not permitted to last very long, before that truly excellent person hinted that she ought not any longer to delay seeing her father. "Believe me, my dear child, he has suffered very severely," she said; "and although I have the pleasure of knowing that I left him less unhappy than I found him, he is, I doubt not, still in a state of mind to make a cheerful visit from you very desirable." " Then he shall have it, my dear friend! " rej^lied Gertrude, springing gaily from the seat which she had lately occupied with such supine languor. "I suppose he is seated in state, as usual at this hour, in the little drawing-room, with as many newspapers of all nations around him as would keep him hard at work for a month, dear man ! were he to condescend to read them." And then, without waiting for an answer, she bounded, rather fAlIILT raiDE. 203 than walked, out of the room, singing the very gayest song she could remember from the last comic opera. ''Poor dear! poor dear! " murmured Madame Odenthal; "and what is to happen to her next ? " But this murmur did not reach the ear of the heiress, and therefore the only sedative she had to bring her to a proper degree of gravity and discretion, was her own good filial heart, which caused her with all sincerity to breathe a sigh, because her poor, dear father could not share the delicious feeling of light- heartedness which made it so difficult for her to walk, instead of dance, as she approached him. There, in truth, he sat, poor stricken, proud, old man, strug- gling to do battle to the feeling which oppressed him ; but having neither sufficient energy of intellect, or of animal spirits to attempt it. • On hearing the door open, he felt quite sure that it must be Gertrude who was come to visit him ; and being very deeply impressed with the persuasion that her pride of place was at least equal to his own, he scarcely dared to turn his eyes towards her, lest he should see her bright beauty blighted by the grievous insult he had received ! Eut before he could fix his eyes on her, she had sprung to him, and dropping on her knees, she threw her arms round him, and exclaimed, "Join with me, my dearest father, in thankfulness for the chance which has happened to us ! I do not mean," she added, with great animation, "I do not merely mean my having escaped an union with so contemptible a being, though you will easily believe, my dearest father, that it is not likely your daughter should be insensible to that ; but what my thoughts chiefly dwell upon at . the present moment is, the opportunity afforded you of humbling his unworthy spirit to the dust! " " "W^hat is it that you mean, my poor, dear Gertrude?" returned her father, in a very piteous voice. " That he has hum- bled me, and, alas ! my dearest child, that he has humbled you also, is but too certain; but what you mean by my humbling him, I cannot even guess." "Eut you will do more than guess, you will see the whole truth at once, when I point out to you the efi'ect of the step you have so wisely decided upon, as to your manner of paying these paltry debts. Trust me, dearest father, it would have been less injurious to your dignity if you had sold the last diamond from the rich casket of your family, than if you had permitted this man to assist you for a single hour by "a loan." 204 gerteude; on, ''My dearest Gertrude! " returned tlie old man, gitmng at her ■with the most profound admiration ; " ifiost truly may I say that no son could better deserve to inherit my honours, and my wealth, than you do ; for I must confess, though I should be sorry to awaken a feeling of vanity in your yoimg heart by saying so, that you inherit also the power, of which I am certainly conscious in myself, of expressing well the noble feelings of onr race. But, alas ! my child, though these feelings belong to us by the right of birth, and are, and must for ever be, our own inheritance, this is no moment in which to boast of them ; for must they not for a short, but most miserable interval, be laid aside, while I become the creditor of some of my own tenants?" '' Laid aside, my dearest father ? Laid aside at the very" moment when there is such especial reason for blessing Heaven that they are awake within us? Believe me, father, it is the noble feeling of which you speak, that, after a moment's reflec- tion, will teach you to rejoice, not only at having escaped the danger which threatened us, of forming an alliance with one so every way unworthy to approach you ; but also for the gratifying manner in which you are enabled to thrust him and his ^^.ilgar insolence from you." *' Gratifying ? Oh, Gertrude ! " murmured the still crest-fallen baron, with a groan. ''Yes, papa! Gratifying in the very highest degree. I have listened in a manner that could not, perhaps, be considered as dignifying in you, to my excellent companion and friend, Madame de Odenthal, while she described the pride and joy which she knew would be felt by those whom her son should select as the honoured individuals from whom this trifling and temporary accommodation would be accepted. It is delightful, papa, to know that the same act which will aflbrd accommodation to you, will be productive of such heartfelt pride and pleasure to them." "It is delightful, my dear child! " replied the baron, seizing, as was his wont, upon every suggestion calculated to gratify his master-2:)assion. " I really believe that you, and your very intel- ligent dame dc compagnie, take a more correct view of the subject than I permitted myself to do in the first instance. But even so, my dear Gertrude," he continued, "I do not well perceive how my being made aware of these excellent feelings on the part of my tenants, can humble this insolent Count llernwold." ''Do you not, dear papa?" replied Gertrude, laughing. "I think I do. There can be no doubt that when he left you in the FAMILY PEIDE. 205 insolent manner yon have described, he felt persnaded that some difficulties would arise in the final settlement of these furnishing accounts ; because, as you will remember, everything was in the first instance ordered by him, and for everything he ordered him- self, he is, of course, answerable. Depend upon it, therefore, that he will not rest till he has announced to the tradesmen you have both employed, the difficulty which might attend your immediately paying their bills, in the amiable hope and expecta- tion that they will immediately become troublesome to you." The baron, who was listening to every word she uttered, as if an oracle was proclaiming his destiny, here uttered a piteous groan. To which his daughter replied, by taking his hand, kiss- ing it, and looking into his face with a smile. " Wait a moment, papa ! " she resumed ; ''I have not come to the conclusion of my prophecy yet. AYhile our noble Count is meditating on the best means of tormenting us, you will be engaged in writing an epistle to him." "I, Gertrude?" exclaimed her father, colouring violently. " I write a letter to the man who told me that I wanted to entrap him into a marriage with my daughter ? Child ! child ! you know not what you say ! jS'otwithstanding my age, and that my hand is no longer as steady as it was wont to be, I may be tempted yet, to send him a challenge to mortal combat ; but in no other way will I communicate with him." "^or will I ask you to do so, dear papa," returned Gertrude, gently ; " unless you should think it worth while to humble him in the manner I propose. What I wish is, that you should write to him as if his rude manner of leaving you had made little or no impression upon your memory, and tell him that you write merely to inform him that he need not feel any uneasiness respecting the unpaid bills, for that you should settle them all immediately, having discovered that you had ready money at your command greatly beyond the amount required, and that your mistake had arisen from the accidental absence of your secretary, who is in attendance upon a sick relation in the country." Gertrude here ceased speaking ; but her eyes were still fixed upon the baron's face, and she had the extreme satisfaction of perceiving that the contraction of his brow relaxed as she pro- ceeded, and then that he smiled at her with a look of inexpres- sible satisfaction. Eut this happy state of things only lasted for a moment. His countenance was again over-clouded by heavy gloom, as he said, ''Such a letter, Gertrude, would be excellent, most excellent, and I should certainly write it with more plea- 206 geetetjde; ob, sure than I ever wrote anything in my life ; but how can I Le quite certain, Gertrude, that Madame Odenthal is right about the tenants ? Just think, my dearest child, what my feelings would be, if, after writing such a letter to Count Hernwold, I should get a letter from Eupcrt, telling me that the persons to whom he had applied, were either unable, or unwilling to assist me." "Depend upon it, papa," replied Gertrude, looking very gaily at him ; "depend upon it, our Madame de Odenthal would not speak with so much confidence on the subject, if she had not very- good reason for doing so. But I will not deny, papa, that the very same idea occurred to me, and I told her frankly, that if this should happen, your position would be greatly more painful than it is now ; for that you would have committed yourself, by stating to the Count what was not true." The poor baron again became as red as fire, and exclaimed, in no very gentle accents, "Nothing on earth, Gertrude, shall induce me to run such a risk." " I quite agree with you, dearest papa," she replied, "and so did Madame Odenthal also ; but having acknowledged that the doing this would be worse than all the debts in the world, she quietly left the room, but returned to it a moment afterwards, with the casket containing my dear mother's magnificent pearls, which, with their superb settings, are, we all know, worth very considerably more than the thirty thousand francs. ' Here, Ger- trude,' she said, 'is a guarantee which will eff'ectually protect your father from the possibility of any such disaster ; nor is this all,' she added, 'as my lord the baron well knows ; for I have heard him say, that the family diamonds are of much higher value still, to say nothing of the massive plate, which would fur- nish the sum required half-a-dozen times over.' " The baron breathed again. "Yes; I see, I see, my dear! That Madame de Odenthal is decidedly a very clear-headed woman," he replied, after meditating for a minute or two. "I understand her argument perfectly, Gertrude. It is not that she has any thought of proposing to me that I should sell my family jewels or plate. She is a bold woman, but not quite bold enough to propose that. I suspect," (and these words were accompanied by a very pleasant smile,) " her meaning is to show, by remind- ing me, very properly, of my various resources of family wealth, that I may write to this audacious Count, in such a manner as to make him most miserably conscious of the insolent blunder ho has made, without my runniiig any risk of pledging my noble FAMILY TELDE. 207 word to a statement wliich iniglit by any possibility be untrue, or in the very slightest degree inexact." *' You have stated the case exactly, my dearest father! " re- turned Gertrude, looking greatly relieved ; for she had, not with- out reason, began to fear some Quixotic blunder on the part of her father. But now he had every appearance of being quite as well pleased as herself, and she therefore ventured to add, "iN'ow then, dear papa, you will write the letter we were talking about, to this blundering lover of mine. Oh ! what an escape you and I have both had, my dearest father." *' "We have indeed, my Gertrude ! " replied the old man, look- ing at her very fondly; " and if I should indeed manage to get through these troublesome embarrassments, and find myself once more with you and the good Odenthals, at Schloss Schwanberg, I really think I shall feel happier than I ever did before in my life." There was something in these words which seemed to have a very decidedly pleasurable eifcct upon Gertrude, for they caused her to clasp her beautiful little hands, as if she had achieved a victory, and inspired her with courage to say, " oS'ow then, papa, let me write the letter to Count Hernwold, just as if I were your secretarv, as Eupert used to be, and you shall sign yoiu^ name to it. Wlyou?" It was evident that the baron was at that moment too happy to be dignified, for he positively laughed, as he replied: "Yes, my dear, I will let you do that, or anything else you please, pro- vided, you know, that you consult your dame de compagnie^ as all young ladies ought to do. I dare say that, between you both, the letter will be everything that the Baron von Schwanberg could wish it to be." Gertrude waited for no further compliments, but springing from her chair, she gaily kissed her hand to him, and vanished. CHAPTEH XXXI. Ladies have, doubtless, written letters to lovers under a vast variety of circumstances, but, for the most part, they may be easily classed under one of three heads — the hard, the soft, 208 GEETHrDE; oe, and the indifferent. But the letter wliich Gertrude had obtained permission to compose for her lover, did not exactly belong to either, ; moreover, it "^as to be written in the name of her father, and not in her own ; but, nevertheless, she left the baron's pre- sence with such a degree of excitement and animation visible on her countenance, as clearly demonstrated that her heart was deeply interested in the epistle she was about to indite. Luckily for her feelings, she found that her dame de compagnie was not in their morning sitting-room, and she, therefore, sat down with the pleasant consciousness that she might indulge in the delightful emotion that was palpitating at her heart, without any restraint being put upon it by her fjoveniess. Poor Gertrude ! If there was a little merry mischief in that heart, as she sat down to perform the task she had undertaken, and which had been so solemnly entrusted to her, it must be re- membered that she was still very young, and that it was very long since any merry thought of any kind had crossed her fancy. It may also be fairly stated in her defence, that she had always believed the addresses of Count Hernwold to be interested. This belief had certainly never been a source of pain to her ; but, in fact, from the terrible hour in which she had determined to atone for all her past offences, by yielding herself implicitly to the wishes of her father, it had been only too decidedly the reverse. Yet, even on this point, excuses might be found for her. '' Surely," thought she, "our union will be less hateful, if it be formed on both sides upon motives which have no mixture oi love in them, than if one were actuated by such a feeling, and the other not." And in so thinking, she was surely right, although she was as surely -VNTong in believing such a union could be justifiable at all. As it was, however, neither her tender conscience, nor her tender heart, troubled her with any reproaches; and it was, therefore, with a strange mixture of satisfaction and amusement, that she penned the following epistle : — " The Baron von Schwanberg presents his compliments to the Count Hernwold, and begs him, in all courtesy, and without any mixture of jesting, to explain to him the real cause of the abrupt departure by which he concluded his late visit. " The Baron von Schwanberg is aware that younger men than himself often find, and often make, amusement, from a playful pretence of being serious, when, in truth, they are only jesting; and, on the other hand, the Baron von Schwanberg flatters him- FAJIILY TETDE. 209 self tliat Count ircrnwold must, in like manner, be aware that persons of a more advanced age than himself, are more slow in perceiving a jest than in resenting an offence, which may be grave. On the present occasion, however, the Baron von Schwan- bcrg is in no way disposed to resent, as gravely as it miglit be re- sented, the indiscreet burst of hilarity with which the Count Hernwold received the confidential communication which had been made to him relative to the state of the baron's banking account. Xevertheloss, the baron must be excused for saying, that this feeling of forbearance, on his own part, does not go far enough to enable him to overlook the offensive freedom, and for- getfulness of proper deference, displayed in the mode of Count Hernwold's departure from his presence. Earon von Schwanberg, therefore, takes this opportunity of announcing to Count Hern- wold that the projected alliance between their houses can no longer be thought of. This is decidedly a very grave termi- nation to an ill-timed jest, but it is inevitable. As a proof, how- ever, that the Baron von Schwanbei'g retains no harsher feeling towards Count Hernwold than the respect which he owes to him- self renders absolutely necessary, he takes this opportunity of informing him that the hurried statement which he had made respecting his temporary deficiency of ready money, arose from a mistake, which, being now rectified, leaves his affairs in the same unembarrassed condition as they have ever been." This epistle was so rapidly written, that, upon Gertrude's re- turning to her father with the open sheet of paper in her hand, he greeted her with a deep sigh, and said, very despondingly, "Ah! my poor dear Gertrude! you have found the task too difficult for you and the good Odcnthal together ! I am not at all surprised, my dear. It is no easy matter to write such a letter as we ought to send. IS'othing was ever so unfortunate as Ptupert's absence ! He is so used to pen-Avork, that everything of the kind seems easy to him ; but, to persons in our condition of life, it is quite a different thing." "Whilst he was thus speaking, Gertrude had approached his chair, holding her letter in one hand, while the other was laid affectionately on his shoulder. But the disappointed baron was much less inclined than usual to return her caress. He first sliook his head, in a helpless way, from side to side, and then turned it fairly away from her, saying as he did so, " It certainly was rather foolish, my dear, to fancy you could do it, when I myself confessed that I saw considerable difhculty in it. You 15 210 GERTRUDE; OR, had Letter send Madame Odcntlial to me. Perhaps, after all, the best thing we can do is to make Rupert come back again im- mediately. He would find no difficulty at all." "Don't do that, papa, till you have just looked at what I have written," said Gertrude, placing her production in his hands, and conscious, perhaps, that her father's proposal had brought a deeper glow to her cheeks than she would like to hear any commentaries upon. "Have you, then, really written something already, my dear child?" cried the delighted old gentleman, adjusting his spec- tacles. "Let me read it to yon — shall I, papa?" said Gertrude, rather eagerly ; for, in truth, she was rather proud of her com- position, and fancied, perhaps, that her manner of reading it might be more advantageous than his. " To be sure you shall, dearest! " he replied. "I know you can read well, Gertrude ; and, I daresay, I shall find that you can write well also," he added, with recovered spirits. " JS^ow, then, my dear, begin ! " " Yes, papa. I will only keep you waiting one moment, just to remind you that, angry as you justly are v/ith him, this letter must not express it, because, you know, the real reason of our writing it is, that he may learn by it, what a blunder his imper- tinent suspicions led him into ; and we could not do this, if we did not express the intelligence we wish to convey, in a civil form. I think he will be vexed, papa, at losing the fortune, though he may not care much about the lady." " If I thought THAT, my darling Gertrude," replied the father, in very vehement anger, "I do not think that it would be proper to write anything to him, except a challege! " * ' I think this letter will vex him more than a challenge would have done," replied Gertrude, laughing. s " Read it, then ! Read it, Gertrude ! " cried the old man, rubbing his hands with every appearance of satisfaction. iVnd she did read it ; and, moreover, she certainly did her own composition justice, for she contrived to make even our baron comprehend that there was a mixture of wormwood in it. Rut if the ceremonious wording of the epistle made him wince a little, from the doubt it engendered in his mind as to the possi- bility of its being too civil, the concluding sentence set it all right. She had never seen him so pleasurably excited before. He threw his arms round her, kissed her hands, patted her hair, and at last exclaimed, as a sort of summing up of every delightful I FAMILY TEIDE. 211 feeling in one, '' Gertrude ! if you had been a son ten times over, instead of a daughter, you could not have done anything which would more clearly have marked the race from which you are descended. If my own hand had written every line, it could not more clearly have borne the mark of Schwaxbeeg upon it, than it does now ! Eut it is not every name in the Almanack de Goth a, my belaved Gertrude, the representative of which, whether male or female, could produce such a letter as this 1 " And then, after silently meditating on the subject for a minute or two, he added, ''It strikes me, Gertrude, that the very re- markable perfection of your character and abilities, must arise from the fact that both your parents .... observe what I say, my dear girl, I think it is because both your parents, female as well as male, are to be found, and repeatedly found, as you know, in that extraordinary and most precious volume (the like to which cannot, as I have been assured, be found in any other country of the known world) ; I think, I say, that this must be the reason why you are so very decidedly superior to every one else, whether male or female." Poor Gertrude had been accustomed for so many years to the being assured by her father that she was superior to every one else in the world, that though very weary of hearing it, she had become in some degree indiiferent to the sound ; but at this moment she could not resist the temptation of saying, "At any rate, dear papa, the Count Hernwold cannot agree with you in opinion, on this point." Eut she would not have uttered the idle jest, had she been at all aware of the effect it was likely to produce. It was upon her saying this, that he now for the first time seemed to be aware of the personal affront to her ; and so vehement was the irritation produced by it, that she bitterly lamented her im- prudence. It was during one of the very violent bursts of indignation which recurred from time to time upon this theme during the course of the day, that a servant entered the saloon in which the baron, his daughter, and Madame Odcnthal were sitting after dinner, and delivered a letter to his master. The poor baron was, in truth, so completely worn out and ex- hausted, by the unusually vehement emotions which he had experienced and displayed during this suffering day, that he littered another of his dismal groans, as the the silver waiter was most respectfully presented to him, with what looked an im- mensely voluminous letter deposited upon it. 15—2 212 geeteude; ob, The tired old man looked, and felt, as if he wore afraid to touch it ; and so very intelligible was the mute eloquence of his weary glance, that his daughter, who seemed to have gained by the events of the day all the energy which he had lost, sprung to his rescue, and taking the voluminous-looking dispatch from the footman, drew a chair close to him, and with a look which might have inspired hope and joy in any being capable of receiving either, she said, "May I break the seal of this magnificent-look- ing dispatch, i^apa? Let me open it, and read it to you, shall I?" It is by no means quite impossible, that the Baroness Gertrude (though not quite such a phenomenon as her papa believed her to be) might have conceived some slight suspicion as to the con- tents of the dispatch she held in her hand, for she really was an intelligent and quick-witted young lady. Moreover, she had recognised the seal of her quondam lover, though her father had not, and she certainly anticipated considerable amusement from a perusal of the contents. The reply of her father was, as she anticipated, a ready acqui- escence ; on receiving which she broke the splendid seal, detached the ample cover, and read as follows : — *'My Deae LoEn Eaeox, " I have to acknowledge a weakness both of character and conduct, of which I honestly and honourably assure you, I am most heartily ashamed. Permit me to recapitulate to you, .the very foolish circumstance which led to the folly, the worse than follv, which I committed in our last hurried interview. At the last ball, at which I enjoyed the exquisite happmess of meet- ing that loveliest of all created beings, your unequalled daughter, I tortured myself during the course of the evening by fancying that she looked coldly on me, nay, that she spoke more coldly still. My brain was on fire ! I dared not trust my feelings, but retired at an early hour to my sleepless pillow. The mental agonies which I endured during that terrific night can never be forgotten while I live ! It was within a few short hours of this dreadful paroxysm of jealousy and despair, that I received from you information, which would at once have appeared incredible from every other human being, namely, that your pecuniary affairs were in disorder. Kay, my dear and honoured friend, you must excuse me for saying, that not even from you would such a statement have appeared serious, had not my tortured mind been so frightfully harassed by the ideas which had FAMILY rRIDE. 213 haimted me throiigli the preceding night, as to be incapable of forming a rational judgment on any subject. "But, as it Avas, I listened like a madman, believed like a madman, and acted like a madman ! And what remains for me now, but to throw myself at your feet, and at the feet of your angelic daughter, and implore you both to forgive, or rather, to forget the conduct which was dictated by insanity, and to re- ceive again the homage and the adoration of one, who would shed his heart's blood to prove his devotion to the noble "Baron von Schwanbcrg, and his adored and too lovely dan filter. "I remain, my ever honoured friend, in the ardent hope of being permitted, at no distant day, to substitute the more precious name of son, ever and for ever, *' Your devoted Servant, " JoAcniM Fecklenboeg Alexaistdee " COMPTE D'HeEIHVOLD." Gertrude read this letter, from the address to ''My dear Lord Baron," to the signature of the devoted " Count Ilernwold," with a well sustained dignity of voice and tone which might have done honour to the town-crier ; and when she had finished the perusal, she re-enveloped it in its ample cover, closed it care- fully, so as to make it look almost as splendid as it did before she opened it, and then, rising, presented it to her father with a very low and ceremonious curtsey. If she hoped to obtain a smile from him by this, she was disappointed, for as he held out his hand to receive the letter she presented, he looked considerably more puzzled than amused. *' AYhat does it mean, Gertrude ? " said the poor baron, looking at her very much as if she had been an oracle. "This Count Hernwold," he continued, "is a man of very high rank, and certainly very nobly connected ; and I would on no account, either to him, or to any other nobleman, give way to any feeling of unjust auger; but surely, my judgment cannot have deceived me, can it, Gertrude ? Surely this letter of his to-day, is not at all consistent with his conduct to me, when I mentioned the embarrassment I was under about the tradesmen, 3'ou know, and the mistake I made about the banker. I can't understand it, Gertrude. I don't know what he means. Do you think he is in earnest, my dear ? " ^' Yes, papa," replied Gertrude, "I have no doubt that he is quite in earnest." 2i4 GErtTnuBE; oe, '* Then I suppose you wisli liim to come here directly. . . . Do you, Gertrude ? " " My dearest, dearest papa ! " exclaimed Gertrude, fondly cm- bracing him; '' can you suppose for a moment that I can wish ever again to see a man who has insulted you ? — First, by daring to treat you with indignity, when you stated to him your mis- taken belief that your affairs were embaiTassed ; and then again, by daring to offer the renewal of his odious addresses, when he discovered that your noble property was 7iot embarrassed at all ! Kever, never let me see him again, papa! if you love me ! " "I do love you, my darling child! And you never shall see him again, Gertrude ! " exclaimed her delighted father; who, till she had uttered this consoling address to him, had positively trembled as if he had been seized with palsy, from the terrible idea that she was, perhaps, too much in love with the man who had insulted him, to bear the thought of refusing him, now that he was come forward again to offer himself. Gertrude, meanwhile, on her side, was quite as much relieved as himself; for most assuredly she had begun to conjure up in her long-harassed mind, the frightful idea that she was not even yet safe from him. His large estate, his lying, but seem- ingly-humble apology, and that terrible page full of him in the Almanack de Gotha, might altogether, she thought, have power to destroy all the happiness which had gleamed upon her during the last few hours, Eut this frightful vision, which seemed to turn her hands and feet to ice, and her cheeks to burning coals, vanished into some- thing better than thin air, as the blessed words, " You never shall see him again," reached her ear. "And now for the answer, my Gertrude," said the happy- looking baron, in a tone of light-hearted cheerfulness, which seemed for a moment to conquer even his dignity ; " what answer arc we to send him ? " "Let me send it! Pray, papa, let me send it! May I?" said Gertrude, coaxingly. " Yes, my dear," he replied, after meditating for a minute or two, with his accustomed look of solemnity; "yes. I feel sure that I may trust you. But remember, my dear love, it must be very decisive." " It shall," said Gertrude. " Must it be written, Gertrude?" rejoined her father, anxiously. " Be very, very careful what you say to liim." "I{o, dear papa! I think we have had writing enough," was FAMILY PEIBE. 215 her anwer; and tlien she adcled, "Have the kindness, dearest Madame Odenthal, to recal Hans. I daresay he is in waiting, on the landing-place." Madame Odenthal, who had been listening to all this with almost as much amusement as interest, lost no time in complying with this request ; and on opening the door which communicated with the ante-room, she found that Gertrude's judgment as to the servant's probable vicinity, was perfectly correct, for there stood Hans, at the distance of about six inches from the key- hole. " Come in, Hans," said the baron, with gi-eat solemnity. '' Come in, and shut the door. The Baroness Gertrude will give a verbal reply to this dispatch." Hans did as he was bid ; that is to say, he closed the door behind him, and advanced two paces into the room. Gertrude looked rather embarrassed, and approaching her father, whispered in his ear, '' Don't you think, papa, that the best reply will be simply to say, that the letter does not require an answer? " "Why, then he will come here at once, if you say that, Ger- trude ! " said the baron, looking perfectly confounded. "I think not, dear papa," she replied, in a whisper; adding, in the same tone, " ask Madame Odenthal what she thinks." "jSTo! Baroness Gertrude ! " returned the old man, proudly; "I will ask no one. Your judgment deserves to be trusted. Besides, my dear, we know," he added, touching his forehead with his forefinger, "where all your opinions rcaUy come from, in some way or other, and therefore I shall make no further diffi- culty about it . . . Tell the Count Hernwold's servant," he said, turning to Hans, with an air of peculiar dignity; "tell the Count Hernwold's servant, that theee is xo axswee." It really seemed as if the grandiose tone of his own voice had acted as a commentary on the message, and enabled him to under- stand the spirit of it; for no sooner had the servant closed the door behind him, than the baron said, addressing Madame Oden- thal, "I really think, my good friend, that our young baroness is as right upon this point, as I have ever found her upon every other. I really think, though it did not strike me so, quite at first, that the sending no answer, says more in tke way of expressing contempt, you know, than almost anything that could have been written. If a person speaks to you, Madame de Odenthal, and you don't choose to answer, I should say that it was just about the most aiironting thing you could do." 21 G gehteude; oe, As Mjulamc Otlcnilial Tory corc'ially c?:prcs?ccl her conviction tliat the longest letter that ever was Aviitten could not by j^ossi- hility express so much contempt as the sending- no answer at all, ' the remaining hours of that happy day were passed in " measure- less content by them all ; " and certain it is, that had not my heroine's sublime father been just about as dull-witted as he believed himself to be the reverse, he could not have failed to discover now, though he had never dreamed such a thing possible before, that the heiress of his wealth, and the glor}" of his house, had been within a hair's breadtli of sacrificing the happiness of her whole life, in order to gratify his blind ambition. I CHAPTEE XXXII. It would have been a difficult task to have induced the baron to believe, before he had made the experiment, how very easy a thing it is for a wealthy man to get into a scrape, and out of it again, if he does but set to work at both processes in a spirited way. There was just delay enough occasioned by the negotiation entrusted to Eupert, to prevent the *'De Schwanbergs" from running away from Paris so suddenly as to create gossip by their departure; and this was an advantage which nothing short of absolute necessity would have obtained for them, for it might be difficult to say whether the father or the daughter were the most impatient to quit it. This piece of good luck, however, was only appreciated by Madame Odenthal ; for from the day that their prompt return to the country was decided on, every moment of delay seemed only a lengthened torment, both to the father and daughter. Gertrude had been very much admired, and very much courted, during her four months' residence in Paris ; but she had formed no new friendships. Madame de Hauteville had retained her place, not only as her favourite friend, but as the only one from whose intimate society she found any real gratification. Xo one, I believe, who has had a fair opportunity of fonning an opinion on the subject, can fail to have observed that there is much more sympathy of character between the women of Ger- FAMILY rrjDB. 217 many and the women of England, than between those of France with cither. The eficct of our jSTorman mixture is much more easily traced among our high-born men, than among any class o{ English females ; and my heroine found herself much more at home with her English friend, than with any one else whom she chanced to meet with in Paris. Lut Madame de Hauteville had left Paris, in order to visit her own family in England, a week or two before this sudden break- in g-up of the Baron von Schwanberg's Paris establishment ; and the business of taking leave of her Parisian acquaintance was therefore very easily performed, and without the cost of either much time, or much sentiment. There mi2,ht be read in the countenances of both father and daughter, such an expression of "measureless content," as they drew near thji noble mansion in which they both were born, that there might have been supposed to exist between them very per- fect sympathy of feeling ; but Madame Odenthal, as she looked from the one to the other, made no such mistake. She under- stood them both perfectly well ; and as each familiar object met their eyes as they advanced, and was gazed at with a more or less lingering look, as the case might be, she would have run but little risk of blundering-^ had she undertaken to describe the thoughts of both ; and the result of such a disclosure would have shown, at least, as little real sympathy of feeling as there was (though without intended delusion on either side) a striking appearance of it. Jiut not even in appearance was there any further similarity, when at length the carriage entered the spacious courtyard of the castle, and stopped before its lofty gates ; for at that moment the dignified demeanour of the pompous baron relaxed in so unusual a degree as to cause him not only to smile, but to nod his sublime head, finite in a familiar waj*, to an individual who stood on the steps leading to them ; while Gertrude, far from following his example, turned as white as a sheet, and altogether looked very much as if she were going to faint. Madame Odenthal, however, was not looking about her, and making her observations for nothing ; but, on the contrary, con- tinued with very considerable cleverness to render it apparently impossible for the Earoncss Gertrude to descend from the carriage till several books, which happened just then to fall on the floor and steps of the vehicle, had been removed. Moreover, she managed, with great dexterity, to interpose her own person between poor Gertrude and the servants, who were 218 gehteude; oh, employed in picking np the said books ; and even to apply a bottle of salts in a most judicious and effectual manner, T^'ithout being observed by anybody save the grateful girl herself. jS'or were either her kindness or her cleverness in vain. Ger- trude was qnite as anxious to conceal the weakness, for which she sometimes felt as if she hated herself, as Madame Odenthal could be, that it should be hid; and matters were so well managed between them, that Gertrude not only got out of the carriage, and mounted the castle steps very much as anybody else might have done, but she positively shook hands with llupcrt before she attempted to totter through the hall, and get out of sight. A small parlonr, which was appropriated to the use of Madame Odenthal, was the room nearest the door, and there the suffering and self-reproaching Gertrude took refuge ; her watchful friend entering with her for a moment, and then returning to embrace her son, and to assure the baron that Gertrude was perfectly well, and only feeling a little over-fatigned by her journey. "I hope that is all, my good Madame Odenthal," replied the baron, rather dolefully; "but neither of us can be very much surprised if she should appear a little overcome on returning to her home, when we remember all she has suffered since she left it!" As Madame Odenthal thought it would be best to avoid dis- cussion on the nature and amount of the misery which Gertrude was enduring on account of leaving Paris, she only replied, " I think, my lord baron, that you will find the health and spirits of the Bareness Gertrude greatly improved after she has been for a few weeks restored to her favourite residence, and to her native air." " Madame cle Odenthal ! " returned the baron very solemnly, but looking at her, nevertheless, with very condescending kindness ; " Madame de Odenthal ! I really believe that you are one of the most sensible and right-thinking females that ever was born. I cannot remember ever hearing you say a foolish thing in my life. I am not, indeed, altogether at a loss as to the cause of this peculiar superiority on your part ; for the Baroness Gertrude her- self (who you know, as well as I do, is never mistaken) pointed out to me the caiise of it, several months ago. I shall, therefore, rest perfectly satisfied by what you say respecting my daughter's health, and only observe, that if she and you both think it will be best for her, after her long journey, to retire to her own room, pAiriLT PniDE. 219 I shall say not a single word against her doing so, but only remark, that I shall be rather pleased than otherwise, if the people of my establishment can contriye to let me have my dinner somewhat before the hour at which it was ordered ; for, although I am cer- tainly not conscious of any weakness, either of body or of mind, I feel that my journey has rather increased my appetite." Of course, the usual degree of attention and obedience was paid to the hint, and the dinner was hastened ; but either in con- sequence of this change in the hour, or from some other cause, Gertrude did not appear at table ; the message, however, by which she excused herself from doing so, and which was de- livered by jMadame Odenthal to the baron, concluded by a little whisper, hinting at the many subjects connected with business, which he would have to discuss with his secretary. jS'othing could have been more judicious than this message. The baron nodded his head as he listened, and he replied, ''Just like her, Madame Odenthal! Quite right! Perfectly right ! " And then he added, with a gracious little tap upon her shoulder, "There will be no objection whatever, to your taking your dinner with us, as usual, my good woman ; but I should wish you to take the hint that the young baroness has given you, and mnst desire that I may be left alone with my secretary as soon as possible after the dinner is over." The reply to this was, of course, received with the accustomed mute inclination of the head ; and then the baron walked on with a stately step towards the dining-hall, too happy — much too happy — in finding himself restored to a position, far, far removed from all possible approach of equality, to suffer much annoyance even from the absence of his daughter. As the dinner was a very excellent dinner, and the baron's appetite a very excellent appetite, the repast was by no means hurried, and by no means a very short one ; so that, when Madame Odenthal returned to the quiet room where, at Ger- trude's earnest desire, she had left her, to take her repast alone, she was by no means surprised to find that she had already left it. Her first idea was that she should follow, and find her ; but, as she mounted the great staircase, in order to reach the young lady's morning sitting-room, she passed a window which commanded an extensive view of the gardens, and as she paused for a moment to regale her eyes with a view of many pleasant objects from which she had long been separated, she perceived the dress of Gertrude, rather than Gertrude herself, floating gently along, amidst the trees of a distant shrubbery. 220 geetelDe; oe, Tjie meditation of a moment made her decide that she would not follow her. ''Poor young tiling! She has great need of meditation," llionght she. " She has been miserably unhappy for months pMst, and if there be any chance of her being less so now, it must l.c in herself that she must seek for it. This is no case for advice, and, least of all, from me. My best hope is, that she shall never discover that I have guessed her secret. Were she aware of it, I must, and would, leave her, for it would be treason and ticaehery to li^jten to her ! " CHAPTER XXXIII. Pl'T although Madame Odenthal did not think it proper to f'jllow poor Gertrude, I am conscious of no feeling which should prevent my doing so, or which should dictate my abstaining from inviting my gentle reader to go with me. The sheltered walk which she had chosen, in which to enjoy the luxury of being alone, was one that she had much frequented, and much loved, from her very earliest childhood ; and it was, moreover, endeared to her, almost solemnly, by having been the favourite promenade of her mother. Put the feeling which caused her to seek it now, proceeded not from any motive more sentimental than a very earnest desire to be alone. She had left Paris with a feeling of joy which amounted Tcry nearly to happiness ; and though her spirits sometimes drooped as she meditated on the probable difficulties which might be in store for her, there was a very comfortable conviction at her heart, that she could never again be so exceedingly miserable as while watching the preparation of the fine house in which she was to live with the Count Ilernwold as her companion and her husband ! There had been, too, a consciousness, not of happiness, cer- ti'.inly, but of something like enjoyment, in knowing that every mile she travelled brought her nearer and more near to Schloss FAillLY PrJDE. 221 Scliwanberg — tliat liavcn of rest, ^vliere she so earnestly Tvislicd to be. Eut, alas I — tlic long jonrney accomplislicil, and tlic wislied-for home opcniDg its doors to receive her — how death-like was the pang which seized npon her heart ! She had not fainted ; no such moment of relief was even for a moment hers ; "but she felt lost, bewildered, and terrified, when her eyes fixed themselves, for one short moment, on the face of Enpert, and she remembered that the wild pleasure which throbbed at her heart as she did so, was still a sin! There is certainly nothing which so effectually strengthens our powers of endurance as the process of enduring. Gertrude was a much stronger-minded person now than before she had passed that di-eadful night of self-condemnation, during which she had resolved to sacrifice herself, rather than betray the hopes and the confiding confidence of her father. AYhat she had endured from that frightful hour, to the happy moment at which she learnt that she was again free, might give her a fair claim to the courage of martyrdom ; and the reward she now reaped for having endured it with so much faithful reso- lution, was found in the quiet reasonableness with which she was able to compare her present situation, with that which it had been when she was the affianced wife of Count Ilcrnwold. Yes ! The difference was enormous ! And even while tears rolled down her blushing cheeks, as she remembered the joyous feeling produced by the one short glance which she had dared to fix upon Paipert, as he stood waiting for them on the steps of the castle, she fervently thanked Heaven for the happy change which had taken place in her condition. But her reverie did not end here. Never were truer words written than those of the immortal line, which says, " Sweet are the uses of adversity." There is scarcely more difference between joy and sorrow than between the state of feeling into which Gertrude had been thrown when her conscience dictated to her, as a holy, filial duty, the com- pliance with her father's wishes, and which had so nearly made her the wife of Count Hernwold, and that to which she was resolved to resign herself. And yet this latter, and comparatively happy state, involved the absolute necessity of abandoning every hope of being beloved by the only individual she had ever seen, who appeared to her capable of inspiring love in return ! And she did resign herself to the deliberate conviction of 222 GEIITEUDEJ 01{, Eupert's iudiffereuce, with a degree of gentle firmnesf?, and nn- complaiuing hopelessness, "which proved plainly enough that the uses of adversity had been beneficial. ''"What should I say, what should I think, of any woman who declared that she had made up her mind to be miserable for life, because the man upon whom, unsolicited, she had fixed her affec- tions, had not fixed his affections upon her in return? " This was the plain question she asked herself; and the answer was such as to be well qualified to restore her to such a degree of philosophic indifference as might last her through life, by way of an antidote to all moaning misery from unrequited love. This was decidedly a great step gained, and she felt it to be so. Her beautiful head was shaken back ; her eye lost its heavy gloom ; her thoughts betook themselves to the well-filled shelves of her noble library ; and then she thought of the cottages, and the cottage children, and of all the good she might do among them; and, finally, as she bent her lightened steps towards the house, she looked cheerfully about her to the right and to the left, and decided upon multiplying her flowers, and upon making herself extremely learned about everything that concerned them. The last hours of this chequered day were far — very far — from being unhappy. On joining her father, she found him in excellent sj)irits, for liupert had been a most agreeable companion. The young man himself was certainly in no unhappy frame of mind. My heroine, however much she might have been mistaken on other points, had made no blunder in attributing both great ability, and great elevation of character, to llupcrt. He had loved, nay, he still loved, Gertrude with all the devotion of a high-minded and enthusiastic character ; but he had seen, as clearly as he had seen the sun in the heavens, that he ought not to wish that she should love him in return. He knew the baron, and all his follies, well ; but he knew, also, how much he owed him. All that he might be said to value in himself, he had acquired by the kindly and confiding shelter which had been afforded him by this proud old man ; and Eupert had not the bad courage to return all this, by seeking to under- mine and destroy the dearest hope of his existence. If he had ever been certain that he could have won Gertrude by such domestic treachery, he could have seen no hope of happi- ness in his success ; and although it certainly had been with an emotion of almost overwhelming pleasure that he discovered, by her treatment of his mother, that she did not, as he had most JA3IILY rrjDE. 223 falsely imagined, share the overweening pride of her father, the joy occasioned by this discovery was neither assumed or lasting. He would, perhaps, have suffered more, had he hoped more. And then came the journey to Paris, and the acknowledged admiration of the brilliant world they found there. . . . And then, the acceptance of Count Hernwold's proposals for her hand. And so ended, and closed for ever, what poor Eupert considered as the only possible romance of his life ! The return of the family to Sehloss Schwanbcrg was, however, not announced without causing him some slight emotion; and the intelligence of Gertrude's broken engagement was not learned with quite as much philosophical indifference as he could himself have wished. But he schooled himself into a very rational con- dition of spirits before the party arrived ; and the very pleasant account which he had to report to the baron respecting the feel- ings and the conduct of his tenants, rendered their dinner a very pleasant one. Eupert and his mother had found time to exchange a few words before this dinner began; and when the baron and his secretary adjourned to the family drawing-room to take their coffee, they found Gertrude and her dame de comioagnie already there ; and the evening was passed in a way that was extremely satisfactory to the two young hearts, both of which had been tor- mented by anticipating embarrassments and difficulties which, happily, did not arise, to destroy the enjoyment of finding them- selves (one and all of them) exactly where they most wished to be. Gertrude was the first who ventured, when the whole party were thus assembled together, to lead the conversation to the subject which, a short time before, had been so very painful, namely, the borrowing money from the tenants. Eut she was encouraged to break through all reserve upon the subject, by knowing that the negotiation had terminated in the most satis- factory manner possible ; and she trusted, moreover, to the savoir faire of Eupert for detailing everything which it would be pleasant for her father to hear, and nothing which it would not. Her confidence was certainly not misplaced ; for Eupert knew his patron well, and was as little likely to say anything which had any chance of being painful to him, as Gertrude herself could have been. In fact, the result of this conversation was the reverse of pain- ful in every way ; and not only was it gratifying to the old man, 224 GErtTEiJDE; oe, at the time it took place, but it oponccl the way to many pleasant feelings wliieh he had never experience;! before. He knew himself to be an immensely great man, and assuredly enjoyed the consciousness of being so not a little; but ho really did not know that he was, moreover, a very kind and liberal one, into the bargain. But his prosperous tenants knew it, if he did not ; and the lively description which llupert gave of the delight, ay, and the gratitude also, with which his application to them had been re- ceived, awakened such a pleasant consciousness of this truth also, in the mind of the worthy baron, that he was evidently more touched at heart by it, than he had ever before been seen to be, by anything in which his daughter was not personally con- cerned. Gertrude watched all this with a sort of pleasure that was quite new to her ; and when a c][uiet smile, having no reference whatever to his grandeur, softened his proud features as lie lis- tened to Eupert's very gra2:)hic narrative, Gertrude was so touched by it, that she sprang from her chair, and imjUTSsed a kiss of very genuine fondness on his forehead. "It pleases you to hear all this, my dear child!" said her father, throwing his arm round her. " And so it does mo, Ger- trude," he added with great simplicity. " I am sure I doii't know how it has happened that it never came into my head before, that they might feel that sort of love for me that Ilapert describes. I have never done anything for them except just not using them ill, but I really like to hear that they take it so kindly." " But everybody else knows how justly, and how truly, you are beloved by these worthy people," said Madame Odenthal, re- spectfully ; " and that is the reason, my lord baron," she added with a smile, "that I felt so very sure that there would be no difficulty in the way of Rupert when he applied to them." " I remember it, I remember it, my good friend! Your con- duct upon that occasion does you great honour ! " returned the baron, with a degree of condescension that was almost aifectionate. '•' You arc a very excellent and a very valuable person, my good Madame de Odenthal ; and both I and my daughter value you accordingly." To this very flattering testimony of approval, Madame Oden- thal made a most respectful reply ; whereupon, the baron reite- rated his compliment, and then added, with a sort of gay excite- ment, which was very unusual to him, " But there was one thing we talked about, my good friend, which you seem to have for- FAMILY PEIDE. 225 gotten, but I have not, Madame dc Odenthal. I have not forgotten what I said about inviting these worthy people to dinner .... to dine at my own table, you know. Have you really forgotten this ? " " jS'o, indeed, Sir," said she, " I have not forgotten it, I had too much pleasure at hearing you propose it. I knew perfectly well that it was not very likely, or rather, I believe, I might say it was impossible. But we must not be over-hasty, my good friend. It is quite out of the question that I should do anything of the kind, without first consulting the Earoness Gertrude. So now we will hear what she says to it." " What is it, papa? " said Gertrude, who had placed herself in a chair beside him. " AYhat is the question which I am to decide?" The baron rubbed his chin, and smiled with very perfect good humour; but yet he looked as if he were half-afraid that the frankly acknowledged pride of his nobly-born and nobly-minded daughter might be aroused, and shocked at the proposition he was about to make. He took courage, however, and said, *' The question, Gertrude, is this. AVill it, in your estimation, be in any way indecorous or improper, if I were, in consequence of the attachment and affection of the excellent men, my tenants, of whom we have been speaking, — would it, in your opinion, Gertrude, be in any degree wrong, if I were to invite them to dine with us ... . at our own table, Gertrude ? " "Wrong, dearest father?" she replied with considerable emotion. ''Instead of its being wrong, I should consider it as one of the very best and most amiable acts that it would be possible for you to perform I " " Then it shall be done, Gertrude ! " returned her father, rathei solemnly. "I know," he added, "what your feelings are on certain subjects, and that I shall run no risk of infringing the respect due to ourselves, if I have your sanction for doing what I propose." After this, there was no further doubt or difficulty as to the invitation that was to be given to the good men and true, who had done them more than yeoman service ; nay, Gertrude herself was permitted to be the bearer of it ; and it may be doubted if the baron ever felt himself a greater man, than when he looked i at the happy faces of his grateful tenants, who seemed to have ; qiiite forgotten that he was their creditor, as they sat around him at their splendid repast. 1 16 -26 GEEIEUDEJ OE, CHAPTER XXXiy. KoTHixG- could have happened more calculated to ensure the peace -of Gertrude, and the tranquil duration of the rational and improving life she was now leading, than the adventure which had befallen her at Paris. When the baron had decided upon making his excursion thither, his head had been as full of grand matrimonial schemes as that of the most ambitious beauty could have been, on first emerging from her native shades. But few young beauties ever received a more effectual check to their hopes, or a more mortifying blow to their vanity, than he had done. Instead of studying the Almanack de Gotha, and dreaming both by day and by night of great alliances, he now shrunk from every allusion of the kind with a sort of sensitive aversion, which seemed to promise Gertrude much lasting peace. And with this very precious portion of happiness, she resolutely determined to be content. Had she never known the bitterness of such real mental anraish as she had endured during the time that she con- sidered herself as bound to become the wife of Count Hernwold, she would have been far less sensible of the blessings she was now enjoying. And, in truth, these blessings were manifold. As soon as she became sufB.ciently tranquillised after the tur- moil of emotions she had passed through while in Paris, to per- mit her common sense to have fair play, she made the notable discovery (which many others might make also, if they would submit themselves to the same process) that there was much more of good than of evil in her destiny. She positively brought herself to smile at last, and not in " bitter sconi,^' either at the idea of a girl under twenty, with health and wealth, an aficc- tionate father willing to indulge her in every whim that could enter her head, the command of an excellent library, and the government of an excellent garden, making herself miserable, with a deliberate intention of remaining so for life, because she had fallen in love with a person who had not fallen in love with her! FAMILY PrJDE. 227 This was tlie statement of her case wliich she drew up with all truth and sincerity ; and then, after contemplating the picture it exhibited, she smiled, less, perhaps, at the picture itself, than at the idea that she, Gertrude, the daughter of her high-minded and philosophical mother, should submit her spirit to such thraldom. The hours occupied by this mental process were not many ; but the effect of them was both important and durable. The first outward and visible sign of this, was the regularity of her daily occupations. There were, moreover, one or two changes which were so quietly brought about, that it was only bv degrees that even Madame Odenthal herself became aware that they were not accidental ; and that they were, moreover, intended to be lasting. During by far the greater portion of Gertrude's life, the library had been the room in which she had chiefly lived ; but now it was so no longer. JS^ot that she had by any means given it up as a sitting-room ; on the contrary, she had induced her father to repair thither regularly every evening, after he had finished his coffee and his pipe, instead of seeking his daughter and his tea (which he had learned to love as well as if he had been an Englishman) in the drawing-room. It was, also, in the library that her favourite pianoforte was now placed, audit was there that her embroidery-frame ever stood ready, . in case any book was in progress among them, deemed worthy of being read aloud by Eupert during the last hours of the evening. But before dinner the library now appeared to be exclusively the domain of the librarian ; and although his mother occasionally • passed an hour with him there, Gertrude never did. Perhaps she was wise enough to recognize the truth of the adage, that "it is easier to abstain, than refrain." Had she permitted herself to pass any portion of her mornings in the library, as in her mother's lifetime it had been their constant habit to do, she might have remained there longer than would have been consistent with the plan and manner of life which she had now laid down for herself. Eupert Odenthal was very decidedly a reading man, and, doubtless, profited by the uninterrupted opportunities thus afforded him of becoming acquainted with the literature of Europe and America; both ancient, as regarded Europe, and modern, as regarded all the rest of the world; for no change had heen made in the long- established custom of permitting the mis- tress of the house to augment the Schloss Schwanberg library a discretion. 16—2 228 GELTEUDE ; OK. Eut notwithstanding^ his strongly-dcvelopecl literary propen- sities, Hiipert happened to be an accomplished gardener also, and very particnlarly fond of flowers, and the scientific cultivation of then). Eut although he had never made a mystery of this, it seemed as if the j'oung mistress of the Schloss Schwanberg gardens did not wish to consult any one's taste and science in the art of gardening, besides her own and her gardeners ; for although she rarely failed to pass some hours every day in the garden, for not even bad weather prevented this, she never seemed to re- member that there was such a place as the said garden, or such a treasury of beauty and fragrance as her conservatories contained, when Eupert was present. AVhat the young librarian might have thought of so strange a peculiarity, it would be difficult to say ; but with all his defer- ence for the young heiress, he did not permit this apparent cap- rice on her part, to interfere with his love of beautiful flowers, or his scientific cultivation of them ; for he made it a daily habit to i^ass the very first hour of daylight in the society of the head gardener, who hajipened to be a familiar friend of long standing, and who by no means seemed to be so adverse as his young mis- tress, to profiting by the aid of the scientific young amateur ; and little as the Earoness Gertrude might be aware of it, she owed some of her rarest and most precious specimens to his persevering- researches, and his learned skill. Eut notwithstanding the abundance of domestic occupation and amusement which Gertrude contrived to provide for herself, and her well-beloved dame de compagnie also, she did not appear at all disposed to neglect any opportunities for social intercourse "which the neighbourhood afforded ; this was not indeed very much, for as the properties in their neighbourhood were large, the proprietors were, of course, few ; but fortunately the young Earoness of Schloss Schwanberg was not the only individual among them inclined to be sociable, and their retirement was by no means deserving the name of seclusion. The ridiculous affair of Adolphe von Steinfeld's sudden passion, offer, and rejection, was remembered by his own family as a mere boyish whim on his part, and had produced no subsequent cool- ness between the respective families ; and now the news of his speedy return, after the absence of nearly three years of far-and- wdde wanderings, was anticipated with pleasure at Schloss Schwanberg, as well as by the rest of the neighbourhood. It may be that both the Earoness Gertrude and her librarian,, heard the additional news, of his bringing home a young wife FAMILY rPcIDE.' 229 ■\;vith lilm, with more pleasure than surprise ; hut the coramuuity of feeling between them, on this point, as well as on many others, was never alluded to by either. This expected addition to the somewhat monotonous society of the neighbourhood, was, however, a theme freely discussed by them all, as well as by every one else in the neighbourhood ; and it was welcomed by all, as likely to produce a great many gay parties. The marriage of Adolphe was nevertheless not thoroughly approved by his father, for though the lady was rich, she was English ; and though she had the reputation of being highly ac- complished, it was feared that she might not be able to converse in German. But, despite these little drawbacks to the complete satisfaction of the Steinfeld family, they were prepared to welcome the fair stranger most cordially ; for the very fact of her being the cause of bringing the wandering Adolphe home again, was quite enough to ensure her a gracious, nay, an affectionate reception. Adolphe had announced that they were to be accompanied by the unmarried sister of his bride ; and as he had taken care in announcing this, to mention that the young lady was extremely rich, extremely beautiful, and extremely accomplished, this addition to their society was also joyfully hailed by all to whom it was made known. Even the Earon de Schwauberg, notwithstanding his usual sublime indifference to most passing events, heard of this marriage with satisfaction, as being a proof that the young man whom he had always considered as a very promising youth, notwithstand- ing his unfortunate exclusion from the Almanack de Gotha, had recovered from the disappointment which he must have ex- perienced from the rejection of his hand by Gertrude. On the very first occasion that he had found himself alone with his daughter after hearing this news, he expressed himself much pleased b}^ the event. *' The Von Steinfeld family are not only extremely good and amiable, my dear Gertrude, but, notwithstanding their unfor- tunate deficiencies in point of alliances, they really are of very respectable nobility; and I sincerely rejoice to find that the son has had the good sense to conquer his early, and perhaps some- what presumptuous, attachment to you." "His attachment to me, my dear father," replied Gertrude, *' was the fancy of a mere boy, and not very likely to be remem- bered long. But I too am very much pleased to hear of his 230 Gl^rtTiirDE ; oti, having formed a marnago with a young lacly so liighly spoken of, for I have always thought that the De Steinfcld family have behaved very kiudly, in never showing any symptom of resent- ment on account of the abrupt dismissal of their son ; and with your pennission, I shall wish to pay every attention to the wife of Adolphe." "You will please me by doing so, Gertrude," replied the baron, in a tone of very amiable condescension. " But yet," he continued, with a smile, which was perhaps a little sarcastic ; " it is probable, my dear, from the country whence he has selected his bride, that the unreflecting character which seems to have marked his race in their former alliances, is still perceptible in him. 'Not that I mean absolutely to deny that there may be found races of every respectable antiquity of descent, even in England ; but, comparatively speaking, they are, I believe, very few ; and you may depend upon it, that this young bride has not been chosen from among them, or the father of young Adolphe would have stated this, when he communicated to us the fact of his marriage." " No, papa," replied Gertrude, with less apparent astonish- ment than the statement seemed to call for. " i!s'o, I do not believe that Madame Adolphe de Steinfeld is of a noble family." '' You state this, my dear Gertrude," returned the baron, with a frown, which evidently betokened a disagreeable surprise ; "you state this fact with a degree of indifference, which shows that you feel less interest than I do for our very estimable and very well-born neighbours. Perhaps it is not your purpose, Gertrude, to honour her by any very intimate degree of ac- quaintance? " "Indeed, papa, I have no such feeling!" she replied, very earnestly; "on the contrary, I looked forvvrard with much pleasure to the chance of finding another English friend whom I may love almost as much as I do Madame de Haute ville." I^othing could have been more likely to i)romote the rapid growth of intimacy between Gertrude and her ii£w neighbours, than this conversation ; for in the first place it at 'once removed any doubts she might have had respecting her father's approval of it ; and in the next, it suggested the idea that she might bo really useful to the wife of Eupcrt's highly valued friend, Adolphe, by showing the neighbourhood that the heiress of Schwanberg did not consider her deficiency of noble descent, as any impediment to friendship. FAMILY PKTDE. 231 CHxVPTER XXXY. It is pretty nearly impossible that any bride should make her first appearance in a country neighbourhood, without becoming an object of considerable curiosity to every individual who makes a part of it ; but when the lady is young, handsome, rich, and a foreigner, this feeling is natui'aliy heightened to a degi'ee, that makes the first sight of her a matter of real importance. In the case of Madame Adolphe von Steinfeld, this feeling was rendered more active still, by the long absence of the bridegroom from the neighbourhood. Adolphe had been a very popular personage among them, and his return after so long an absence, was of it- self enough to produce a great activity of visiting ; no wonder then that his arrival, accompanied by a beautiful young wife, should be the signal for a great deal of neighbourly and hospitable intercourse. Nor was the additional circumstance of the newly- married pair being accompanied by a splendidly beautiful sister of the bride, to be considered as a matter of trilling importance. Both the ladies were the daughters of a wealthy London banker, but by different mothers ; the unmarried sister being the elder of the two, and in possession not only of the handsome for- tune bec[ueathcd to her by her recently deceased father, but of her mother's still larger propeiiy, of which she was the sole heiress. Adolphe de Steinfeld was wise enough to say little or nothing concerning the defunct banker ; for he well knew that the fact of his having passed the last years of his very respectable life amidst the best society that our humble island can boast, would do but little to redeem his memoiy from the odium of having ^^lecn in business,^^ in the judgment of the rustic magnates among whom his daughters were now welcomed as beauties, and heiresses of high degree. Adol]ohe, however, had not married his wife because she was rich ; he really was very sincerely in love with her, though she was as little like the object of his first love, as it was well possible for a pretty young woman to be, Madame Adolphe de Steinfeld was a bright little creature, that 232 gehtetjde; oe, at twenty-two, scarcely looked more than fifteen. She was mirjnonne in the fullest sense of that very expressive epithet. MoreoTcr, she had untamable animal spirits ; and rather than not be amused, she would have had recourse to the tricks of a monkey, or the frolics of a kitten. She certainly was good-humoured; for she was not only laughter-loving herself, but rather than not see those around her laughing also, she would put in action, without scruple, any and every species of playful mischief in order to produce it. Her unmarried sister was a very different sort of person. She was six years the senior of Madame Adolphe de Steinfeld ; but from the beauty and delicacy of her complexion, looked consider- ably younger than she was. Her eyes were large, blue, and of the most languishing softness ; and her abounding hair, which descended in long natural ringlets to her shoulders, was almost flaxen. In person she was tall and beautifully formed, but be- ginning to show slight symptoms of becoming a little more plump than was consistent with that exquisite perfection of youthful beauty of which she had been justly considered, in her own par- ticular style, as a model. How it happened that this beautiful Arabella Morrison, with a fortune of several thousands a year, over which no human being had any control but herself — how she had contrived to reach the age of twenty-eight years, without being tempted to bestow her- self and her thousands upon some one of the very many who had smiled and mourned, knelt and prayed, in the hope of being taken into life-long partnership by the banker's fair daughter, was a mystery to many. The answer which perhaps most nearly approached the solution of it, was given by her giddy young sister Lucy, when she was questioned on the subject by the nurse, who had been very much like a mother to her since the early death of her real parent. "What can be the reason. Miss Lucy, that your sister, with all her beauty, and all her money, has never got a husband yet? Why, my dear, she is going on very fast for thirty." This speech from Nurse Norris produced the following reply from Lucy, who was at the moment very busily engaged in exa- mining some part of her own bridal paraphernalia. *'I think I can tell you the reason, Nurse Norris," she said. " She admires and adores her beautiful rich self too much, to think that any one who has yet asked her to bestow herself upon " him is worthy of such a treasure." <'AYhy, then, in that case, Lucy dear," returned Nurse Norris, FAMILY rrjDE. 233 *' it is likely she will die an old maid at last, notwithstanding her being such a beauty and heiress." " Xo! — not if she has the luck of ever seeing any one suffi- ciently worth having, to make her pay a good price for him." " Eut if she goes on much longer," rejoined jS^urse IS^orris, "she may have to ask the question her own self, Miss Lucy ; for those that the like of Miss Morrison would call good matches, generally like something young, as well as rich." " AYell ! — we shall see. Goody ! " returned the busy bride-elect. "All I know is, that she has made Count Adolphe promise to take her to Germany with us ; and so now you may go on with your packing, without wasting any more time in gossip. . . . And if I do not find everything in the most beautiful apple-pie order for starting by the day after to-morrow, I will leave you behind me, as sure as your name is j^urse ISTorris ! " The only reply to this threat was given by a very fond nurse- like kiss upon the forehead of the pretty threatener. Eut we must leap the gulf between this threat and the safe establishment of the bridal party, of which jS"urse Noms made an important part, at the far-away German castle of Count Stein- feld. It may easily be imagined that Schloss Schwanberg was not the last of the noble mansions in the neighbourhood whose gates were opened to receive the gay bridal party which it was expected would so greatly enliven the society. The meeting between the bridegroom and his affectionately-re- membered friend, llupert, was as cordially friendly as their parting had been. Had Adolphe not returned as a married man, it is possible that Eupert, notwithstanding all his deep resolves to retain to his dying day his passionless respect for Gertrude, might have felt, in spite of himself, that the renewal of acquaintance between her, and her former adorer, might produce a change in the present even tenor of their life at Schloss Schwanberg, which would not tend to the general happiness of its inhabitants. Eut, as the case stood now, the pleasure of the meeting was equal on both sides, and unmixed with any drawback whatever. Even the sort of embarrassment which might have arisen, either from an awkward allusion, or from no allusion at all, to this violent first-love fit of the bridegroom, was eff'ectually prevented by the light and frolicsome tone in which Adolphe himself now recurred to it. "Do you remember how distractedly I behaved about that nice, 234 . GJ:rtTrttTi)E ; os, good, quiet girl at ScTiwanbcrg, Eupert?" said he. '^IIow on earth I cYcr came to take it into my head that I was iiL love with her, I shall never he able to comprehend, if I were to live a thousand j'ears ; for, the real fact is, she was by no means the sort of girl I admire. As I think of her now, it really seems to me that I must hare pretended to be in love, in order to amuse myself. Do you remember all about it, Eupert? " " Yes ; perfectly," replied Paiport with a quiet smile. *'0h! I don't wonder at your laughing, for I perfectly well remember, too, that you told me at the time, that you did not see any beauty in her. . . . And, I daresay, you were very right. Eut do you also remember the 'Almanack de Gotha?' How many a good laugh have I had, from remembering that scene with the stiif-backed old baron ! Has she ever had any offers since, Eupert?" ' ' Oh, yes ! I believe so. She was very much admired at Paris," was Eupert' s discreet reply. ''Perhaps the tender-hearted Parisians found out that she was an heiress? " returned Adolphe. "Eut the warlike Gauls would have no chance whatever with the baron and his 'Almanack.' " "Probably not," returned Eupert; "and so little, on the whole, did the baron like his Parisian campaign, that I advise you. Count, not to allude to it, if you wish to keep him in good humour." " If you call me CorxT, I will shoot you, Eupert. So you had better keep me, too, in good humour, I promise you. And if you could contrive to make the baron talk a little about the 'Almanack de Gotha ' before my wife, I should really take it as a very par- ticular kindness, my dear friend, for she is the most laughter- loving little animal that ever was born." Eupert answered him very gravely, that if he, Bupcrt, was to be kept in good humour, it could only be done by not laughing at the baron at all. " If your young wife, my dear Adolphe, deserves the happiness of being your wife, as much as I hope and trust she does," con- tinued Eupert, earnestly, ."she will soon learn to value his daughter too highly to find food for mirth in anything that would be painful to her." "Ee not too serious with me, my dear old friend ! " returned Adolphe, with a feeling that was anything rather than jocose. "If I, indeed, thought my dear laughing little wife was really capable of wounding the feelings of a good daughter, for the sake of a joke which might amuse herself, I should be very likely to FAMILY PRIDE. 235 run away from hor. I daresay you cTo not know yourself as well as I know you, Piupert, or you miglit give me credit for sounder judgment than you are now, perhaps, likely to attribute to me, when I tell you that I have never, since we parted in the forest yonder, met with any one whom I could consider as worthy to rival you as my chosen friend. I must have recourse, I believe, to that delightful entreaty — pardon me for being jocular — which we enjoyed so heartily together some half-dozen years ago; but, notwithstanding this dangerous propensity, which has certainly been greatly increased by my union with Madame la Contessa Adolphe Stcinfeld, I am quite aware, Eupert, that I have not yet met with any man whom I considered as your equal ; and as long as I feel this, you need not fear that I should do or say any- thing that could pain you, for the sake of a jest." This conversation was of considerable importance in fostering the intimacy between the noble houses of Schwanberg and Stein- feld; for Gertrude would never have endured the seeing her father made an object of ridicule, or even of playful sport, by the young English stranger, although she was well inclined to profit by her vicinity, and to assist her own schemes for the arrange- ment of a very cheerful and happy existence, without running the risks which might perhaps be incurred by any more visits to gay capitals. The amusement of the neighbourhood, when welcoming and fci-tiDg the fair strangers, was probably not a little increased by watching the remarkable contrast between them. It took Pvupert but little time to arrive at a tolerably decided conclusion respecting both the ladies, and he rejoiced with very affectionate sincerity that the choice of his friend Ptupert had fallen on the younger sister. Tov\'ard3 her, he felt disposed to feel, and to cherish, very friendly sentiments ; for, amidst all her wild rattle, he discerned considerable shrewdness of observation, and, what was better still, a cheerful temper and a loving heart. Moreover, it was easy enough for an observer less interested on the subject than himself, to see that she was devoted, heart and soul, to her husband ; and that, in the midst of all her Irolics, the idea of amusing and pleasing him was the prevailing thought, and the inspiring motive. Of the elder sister, Gertrude, at least, formed a very different judgment. In point of personal beauty, indeed, she thought that there could be no second opinion ; for, in her estimation, Miss Morrison was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen ; while, to the miniature bride, she could not accord any enithet 236 GERTliUDE; OUj more flattering than '^pretti/.^^ Beyond this opinion respecting her beauty, however, not even her very sincere wish to like her new neighbours, could enable her to add a single word that be- tokened either admiration or approval of the elder. She thought her imperious, affected, vain, and capricious ; and there was something in her manner of attracting and receiving the atten- tions of eveiy man whom she thought it worth her while to notice at all, which was so totally unlike anything Gertrude had ever seen before, as to puzzle as well as disconcert her. Probably, however, neither her liking for the younger sister, nor her disliking of the elder, had much immediate influence on the intercourse which followed. It was speedily a settled point in the neighbourhood, that the English ladies were to be wel- comed among them by every possible species of hospitality ; and for several weeks this amiable project prospered in every direction. The old became young, and the young became brilliant ; and a somewhat remote province of Germany seemed in a fair way of rivalling the memories of Brighton and Hyde, in the judgment of the English sisters. But, decidedly, the individual who enjoyed all this the most, was the Baroness Gertrude. She had, indeed, previously pretty well made up her mind to the belief that she not only was, but she was sure to continue so, exceedingly happy in the mode of life which she had arranged for herself, that nothing more was, or could be, wished for. But when she perceived the marked change which the return of Count Adolpho made in the existence of llupcrt, she began to think difl'erently. That Iluport was as much superior in mind and information to all her noble friends and acquaintances, as he was inferior to them in rank and fortune, was a truth that was too deeply im- pressed upon her mind to be ever overlooked or forgotten ; and notwithstanding her resolute spirit of content, she did sometimes sigh in secret, as she remembered how completely he was shut out from all intercourse with that stirring world, of whose mar- vellously rapid onward movement she was made tolerably well aware by the unlound compartment of her library. Her mother's often-expressed opinion of Eupert's intellectual superiority, had certainly left a deep impression on her memory ; and this, together with her own consciousness that it had never yet been her lot to meet any one else whose mind seemed in har- mony with her own, or could be in harmony with his, made her often sigh in secret that there were no means within her reach, FAMILY PEJDE. 237 Ly wliich she could assist him to break through the barrier that seemed to separate him from all Tvhose talents and acquirements could render them fitting' companions for him. The mistake which Eupcrt had fallen into, of fancying that the young Gertrude beheld Count Adolphe with especial favour, originated solely in her almost unconscious gratitude to that highly-talented young noble for having selected their obscure librarian as his favourite companion and most intimate friend ; and the evident and eager pleasure with which this intimacy was now renewed by the travelled bridegroom, and welcomed by the remote and almost solitary scholar, again caused Gertrude (who was in no danger now of being so inconveniently mistaken) to profit by every possible opportunity of bringing the families togetherr In this object she certainly succeeded to the utmost extent of ]ier wishes ; for scarcely a day passed without their meeting. But as Count Adolphe was no longer a single man, who could, without impediment, trot over the three miles which divided them, either with or without the assistance of his horse ; their almost constant comjoanionship could not have been achieved, had not Gertrude encouraged his young bride to accompany him, both on foot and on horseback. Fortunately, this young bride was really a very charming little girl ; and having wisely made up her mind that somehow or other she must, and would, learn to talk German, she speedily discovered that the Bareness Gertrude was the only individual she had yet met with, who at all understood how to teach her. This would all have gone on very completely to Gertrude's satisfaction, had this extreme intimacy of intercourse been con- fined to Count Adolphe and his gay little wife ; but, un- fortunately, the beautiful Miss Morrison did not permit it to continue long, before she gave her sister to understand that it was her will and pleasure to be included in the horse and foot expeditions to Schloss Schwanberg, which were of such constant recurrence. " But you cannot go there every morning, as I do, Arabella, unless the Baroness Gertrude invites you," remonstrated the young Countess Adolphe. " Do not give yourself any trouble on that account, Lucy," was Miss Morrison's reply; " only let me know at what hour you mean to set off to-morrow morning, and I will manage about the invitation for myself." " What nonsense! " exclaimed Lucy, shi'ugging her shoulders. 238 gehteijde; oe, " You could not walk there, and back agaiu, as I do, without fancying yourself half killed ; and as to j'our riding ! jlercy on me ! Just fancy yourself and your ringlets trotting away upon such a pony as Adolphe has got for me ! " These remonstrances were very reasonable, and founded on truths incontrovertible. But women are wilful — pretty women particularly so ; and when wealth is added, without either father, mother, brother, or husband to control the wishes and whims of the fair possessor, this wilfulness sometimes assumes a degree of power and activity that becomes troublesome to those within its influence. CHAPTEE XXXVI. ''Use lessens marvel." It would have been considered as a strange and portentous spectacle a year or two before, if Schloss Schwanberg had been seen any single day of the year, under the same aspect as it might now be contemplated every day, and sometimes all day long. The hall-door seemed now to be always standing open, instead of being always solemnly shut. The library was no longer sacred to Eupert and his catalogue ; but Adolphe von Steinfeld might be seen, stretched at easy, if not at lazy length upon the sofas of this noble apartment, with more than one precious volume within easy reach of his hand there, though he might have sought for such in vain for many an Austrian mile around him. And Eupert was there too, but no longer like the deeply-read and careful librarian, gravely, in youthful earnestness inhaling, as it seemed, the atmosphere around him, and thankful to Heaven in his very soul, that if shut out by destiny from free communion with human hearts, he was thus enabled to exercise his intellect, side by side as it were, with the highest order of liuman minds. Eupert no longer passed his long mornings in solitude ; nor was his free and easy friend Adolphe his only companion. For the joretty little Lucy had a great notion that she too had a taste for books ; and in order to prove this to the entire satisfaction of her dearly beloved iVdolphe, she rarely, or rather never suffered any of their long lounging morning visits to be brought to a conclusion FAMILY PEIDE. 239 Avitliont insisting upon it, that Gertrude should go "witli her into the library, not exactly for the purpose of reading, but in order to look at all the beautiful books, and make her clever husband, and his first-rate learned friend llupert, talk about them. In all this literary lounging the beautiful Arabella took her part, although the doing so, was so striking an innovation upon her usual habits, that her sister, naturally enough, remarked upon it ; and had more than once asked her what pleasure she could possibly find in sitting, or in lounging about for hours together, in a great big room, without a single looking-glass in it. '^ I suppose I find the same kind of pleasure that you and Ger- trude do," was once her reply, '' Oh ! dear no, Arabella ! that is quite impossible ! " returned the indignant bride. '' '^Vithout ever saying a word about Ger- trude, although she certainly is mj/ very particular friend, I have, I should hope, reason enough to like to be there. If you could but be so lucky, Arabella, as to find some one handsome enough, and grand enough, to give yourself and your fortune to, you would know, without my telling you, what it is that makes me so fond of the Schwanberir librarv." '' Upon my word, my dear child, you make yourself as great a fool about your husband, as you do about everything else. If I were in your place, Lucy, I should be positively ashamed of showing such excessive fondness for any man. If Adolphe were ten times my husband, I would not follow him about as you do." "You do not know what you are talking about, Arabella! "When you are married yourself, my dear, I shall be much more inclined to listen to your opinion." '' And in that case it is most probable that my opinion would not be so much worth having," replied the beauty. " However, while things remain as they are," she added, " I shall do all I can to prevent your making j'ourself appear too ridiculous in the eyes of the Baroness Gertrude, and, it may be, of your husband, also ; and of course, my taking care to be always with you, will be the most effectual way of achieving this important object." Lucy looked in her face and laughed, but said nothing. It was a saucy look, and might have said, being interpreted, " do not trouble yourself!" The baron, meanwhile, had every ap- pearance of being in better health and spirits than his daughter ever remembered to have seen him enjoy. I^or was she at all mistaken in this opinion ; Laron von Schwanberg never had felt himself so happy before. It had certainly been with the expectation of finding a more 240 geeteude; oe, illustrious sou-in-law among the numerous admirers who were sure to crowd round his heiress in the splendid salons of Paris, than he could hope to meet with in the retirement of his noble, hut remote castle, that he had made the joyless excursion which, in every sense, had cost him so dear ; and it is highly probable that he would have sunk into very hopeless dejection, in con- sequence of what befel him in the course of it, had he not been sustained by firmer spirits than his own. Eut now, instead of this, he really felt himself a happier man than he had ever been in his whole life before. In the first place he had inflicted indignity in the very hour Avhen he was tortured by the idea of receiving it. In the next, he felt, on returning to his own isolated baronial greatness, that no other greatness could bear a comparison with it in real dignity. And then came the agreeable surprise of finding that he was beloved, as well as reverenced, by those whose industry furnished his revenues ; and last, but not least among the subjects he found for self-gratulation, was the dis- covery that he had not offended his good and noble neighbours of Steinfeld, by pointing out to them the lamentable fact, that their names were not to be found in the " Almanack de Gotha." All this, joined to the unhoped-for blessing of seeing his heiress apparently as happy as himself, might well account for the fact that the stately baron condescended to give symptoms of being a very contented, as well as a very dignified old man. Had the case been otherwise, Gertrude would never have ven- tured, nay, she would never have wished to promote this daily and familiar intercourse with their neighbours, as cordially as she now did ; nor was there any great self-delusion in her believing that she did so as much for her father's sake, as for Eupert's. But assuredly Eupert's share in the matter was not trifling. Xo woman, perhaps, ever believed herself more sincerely in earnest than Gertrude did, when she made up her mind to renounce, at once and for ever, every hope, every dream, of Eupert Odenthal's ever becoming attached to her. Eut this was, in her estimation, a reason for, rather than against, the doing everything which was in her power for his permanent advan- tage. "Had Eupert loved me," thought she, ''I could have passed many happy 3'ears of life in quietly watching the development of his admirable mind, and in teaching myself to become in some degree worthy of being the companion of his life .... The happiness of my dear father would still have been the first and holiest of my daily cares; and when he should have been taken FAMILY PEIDE. 241 from mo, 1 would have become the wife of Rupert, with no fear that the spirit of my father, if removed to a higher sphere, woukl contemplate with displeasure my uniting myself to the most exalted being I have ever met with in this. . . . But now my object must be different. Ptupert loves me not. But shall I withdraw my aid from him for this ? Eupert must be as a bro- ther to me ; and I have only to fancy myself a few years older than I am, and that I am his elder sister (somewhat unjustly made my father's heiress), in order to render all that I intend to do as easy as it will be righteous. But it would be very sad, should he be forced by his position here, to pass years of solitary thought, and solitary study, without any companion capable of doing him justice. Adolphe de Steinfeld is full of bright intelli- gence, and he does Kupert justice. Accident has thrown them into great intimacy, and it shall not be my fault if this ripen not into close and life-long friendship." It was thus she reasoned, and upon this reasoning she acted. In one respect, at least, this scheme worked pleasantly, and suc- ceeded well ; for no day passed without bringing the two young men together, and no sorrow followed without the feelings of mutual sympathy and esteem between them being increased. Had the share which the English sisters took in this intimacy been more annoying than it really was, Gertrude would very resignedly have submitted to it. But she really liked the young bride exceedingly ; and though the addition of the beautiful Arabella to the coterie was not felt as an improvement by any of them, it was too inevitable to provoke either resistance or com- plaint. The young Countess Adolphe, however, did at length relieve her mind upon the subject, by setting Nurse ISTorris to talk about it. "I wish I knew what it was induced Arabella to follow Adolphe and me so, when we go to Schloss Schwanberg," said the bride, as her loving tire-woman was arranging her beautiful hair. "Does her gossiping maid, Susan, never make any of her sage remarks upon it, Xorris?" Norris continued for a minute or two to brush the silken tresses which hung over her hand, without making any reply to this question ; and then Lucy turned suddenly round upon her, at the risk of deranging all this beautifying brushing, and exclaimed, "JN'ow, then, I am sure there is some mystery about it, JSTorris, or else you would have answered me directly. Tell me, this very moment, all about it, or I will send you home in a Dutch waggon to-morrow ! " 17 242 geeteijde; oe, ''Well now, Miss Lucy .... I beg your pardon, my Lady Countess ! .... be so kind as to let me bide with you a little longer, and I will tell you all I know about it ; but that is so little, that if I don't add a small bit of guess-work to it, I don't think it will be worth your ladyship's hearing . . . But, Susan certainly does say, that she thinks Miss Arabella has fallen in love again." ''And I should not be the least surprised if she had," replied the Countess Adolphe ; "if it were not that the only man she sees, except the old baron, takes no more notice of her than if she were made of wax. Does Susan say, or think, or guess, or whatever you call it, that Arabella has fallen in love with the Baron von Schwanberg ? " " ;No, Miss ! No, my lady ! I do beg your pardon, my darling, but you do look so very young, that 1 can't get myself to remember that you are married, and a Countess." "Never mind about that, you foolish old woman. I forgive you now, once and for ever, and you may call me baby if you will, till I am as old as the beautiful Arabella herself, if you - will only go on with your story. Has my magnificent sister set her heart upon being Baroness von Schwanberg? Upon my word and honour. Goody, 1 should be delighted to hear it. Only just think of the fun I " "Yes, Miss .... yes, my lady. I have seen the tears come into your eyes with laughing at things she has done not half so funny. But that is not it," replied Nurse IS orris. "Then what is it, you silly old woman?" resumed her impa- tient young mistress. " There certainly is a person at the castle, that though, of course, not half-a-quarter so charming in my eyes, is quite as handsome, and I daresay some might say still handsomer, than my beautiful Count Adolphe ; but I tell you, nurse, that he takes no more notice of her than if she were a stick. You won't tell me, I suppose, that Arabella has fallen in love with him?" " I don't speak of my own knowledge, my dear," replied Norris, "for how should I? Miss Arabella never tells any of her secrets to me. But Susan says, that this great beauty and fortune that you have got the happiness of having for your sister, is fallen so over head and ears with that handsome young gentleman at the castle, that she thinks she will be after poisoning herself, or may be jumping into the river yonder, if she don't get him." The young Countess remained silent for a minute or two, and ( o fa:mily peide. 21 it was certr.Iiily a wicked thouglit that occupied licr during tliis interval. Ilcr rich and beaulitiil elder sister was an immense bore. She had bored Lucy from the very earliest moment at which she could remember her own existence ; she had bored the beloved Adolphe very grievously during the earlier months of their acquaintance, and before his engagement to herself had given her a right to take possession of him . . . And now she was, most unquestionably, a terrible bore to them both. " AYhat a relief it would be, if that handsome Rupert Odenthal would marry her ! " That was the thought which had entered her head ; and certainly it was, considering her own opinion of her beautiful sister, a wicked thought. But it would have been more wicked still, if the Count- ess Adolphe had not been the daughter of a rich English banker. The idea that wealth was the most important ingredient in the earthly destiny of a human being, had grown with her growth, and strengthened with her strength ; and it should be stated in her defence, that if half the wicked thouglit was suggested by the consciousness of the immense relief which it would bo to i2,i't rid of her sister ; the other half arose from the simultaneous recollection that Rupert was only librarian to the Baron von Schwanberg, although the great learning and cleverness of her beloved Adol])he had selected him as his chosen friend, on account of his wonderful intellectual superiority. But weighty, and mighty, and important as these thoughts were, they did their work so rapidly, that there was but a short j interval of silence between the young Countess and her aged attendant, before the meditative bride said, turning sharply round ! to the old woman, who had resumed her hair-brush : ''And ])vaj, I goody wise-woman, what has Susan seen, or heard, to put such stuff into her head ? " " Oh ! lor ! my dear young lady, if I was to set about repeating one-half of Susan's long stories, it w^ould be time for you to go to bed before I had done." " AVell then, just pick out a few as quick as you can, there's a dear old darling, and you shall tell me the rest another time. I ijust want to see if there is anything at all like common sense in what she says." ' *' Why, first and foremost, my dear, Susan says, that she is got pack to the old way which she always takes to, in all her love fits ; that is, you know, she will sometimes dress herself two or three limes over in difi'erent styles, as she calls it, and then stc\ncls 244 geeteude; oe, tofore tlie glas?, and practises, like, half shutting hoi eyes, and lianging her head on one side, and leaning upon her fine white arm with I don't know how many bracelets on it, sitting before the glass all the time, and looking at her own face as if she was longing to kiss it. And this is the way, Susan says, that she always goes on when she is in love ; and you know, my dear, Susan must know a little about it, because she has seen it over and over again, so very often. AVell, and then she has been at the old work of flower-keeping, till the leaves all fall upon the carpet, day after day, as she presses them to her heart. And then she brought home a gentleman's glove with her one niglit, when you had all been dining at the castle ; and this glove she goes on sticking in under her pillow every night. But all this would be nothing, you know, my lady, in anybody else; but Miss Arabella has been going on now so many years in the same way, and we always are so sure to hear that she is going to be married after every new beginning of this sort ; that, bless you, my dear, Susan knows the signs, she says, as well as she knows the figures on her sampler. And all this began, my lady, when you was a little girl at school." "And pray, my good Xurse IN'orris, if Susan is so very ob- serving, can she not tell us why none of all these fifty thousand love affairs ever ended in marriage ? AVith Arabella's fine for- tune, to say nothing of her beauty, it is quite impossible that all the men who have offered to her, and been accepted too, should all turn out traitors, and forsake her." *' Yes, to be sure, my dear, it would be impossible to believe it; and that's the reason, I suppose, why it never happened. Susan says, that she don't believe that any one of all her lovers ever played her false in any way. . . . The fortune, you see. Miss Lucy, is such a hold-fast. i\o ! my dear, it was none of all the gentlemen, nor was it your poor, dear papa either ; for she soon gave him to understancl, good, quiet gentleman, that she was in- dependent of him. Ko, my dear child ! It was nobody in the wide world but her own self who ever broke off" any of the mar- riages. Eut Susan says, that it was no sooner settled that she was really to be married to a gentleman, till little by little, day after day, she seemed to get tired of him, and began taking to somebody else ; and she knew well enough that her money always made her sure of her work. She knew, Miss Lucy, that she might play as many queer tricks as she liked, without the least bit of danger that she would be left in the lurch to die an old maid. She is quite up to that, my dear ! . , . Nobody ever says, FAMILY TEIDE. 21-5 or sings either, to a lady with eighty thousand pounds in her pocket, 'If you Avill not Avlien you may, When you ^Yill, you shall have nay.' She knows as well as everybody else, that gentlemen never do say ' nay ' to that." ''You arc a very wise old woman, Goody Norris," said lur young mistress, laughing heartily; ''and as I don't think tlii.s love-making sister of mine will ever fail, in some way or othei", to take good care of herself, I certainly do not mean to give my- self any trouble about her. It will be funny enough, to be sure, if all this English banking money should settle down at last into the pocket of a German baron's library ! Eut, upon my word, my greatest objection to it would be, that I think he is a great deal too good for her." " "Well, my lady, of course you know best," returned the old woman, demurely. "Eut if the young gentleman is as wise as we hear he is handsome, he miaht manage, I should think, to be the last of her lovers, and the first of her husbands, without troubling himself much about her goodness. Money is a very fine thing, my lady ! " The effect of this conversation on the young bride was not, perhaps, exactly what it ought to have been. The state of affairs, as described by her sagacious old nurse, appeared to her to pro- mise a very considerable portion of fun ; and her imagination im- mediately set to work to devise scenes, and arrange cii'cumstances, in the best possible manner, for the purpose of extracting amuse- ment from this new amourette of her fair inflammable sister. Her firm conviction that the object of this tender passion did not, in the very slightest degree, return it, only added zest to the jest ; and there would be novelty, too, in seeing how the beauteous Arabella would contrive to render herself a bright ex- ample of persevering study, and, in short, altogether devoted to literature ! " 8he had already seen her, upon one occasion, become so devoted to art, that the Eoyal Academy was, for several months, the only l)lace in London where real enjoyment could be tasted. At another, her whole soul was, as she declared, absorbed in music. At one time, she was so enthusiastic a Puseyite, that the majority of her acquaintance did not scruple to declare that she had evidently made up her mind to become a member of the churcli of Pvome ; as she had, in fact, been heard to say, that Dr. P. had 216 GErvTEUDE; OE, but one fault . . . ''he did not go far enough ! " Eut from this peril of perversion, she had been saved by the excessively line eyes of a young man who, as he said, gloried in confessing that- he, at least, was not ashamed of avowing himself to be purely evangelical. The next aspirant for the 5»afely-funded eighty thousand, was a man of fashion ; and while his reign lasted, all memory of the banking concern was ungratefully forgotten, and the Peerage was never, by any chance, permitted to be beyond reach of her hand. ... All these had, in their day, afforded infinite amusement to the saucy young Lucy; and she now recollected, with great satis- faction, that she had never as yet enjoyed the gratification of seeing her beautiful sister devoted to literature. ^Notwithstanding her own very great felicity as a wife, and the genuine pleasure she took in the society of her new friend Ger- trude, she now became conscious that her happiness would very decidedly be greater still, if she could but have the fun of watch- ing one of Arabella's tender passions^ with her beloved Adolphe at her side to enjoy the joke with her ! jN^ay, she was not with- out hope that she might manage to inspire her dear, darling, sober Gertrude, with a sufficient spirit of fun also, to make her capable of enjoying the scenes she was quite sure she should bo able to get up for her amusement. 'Nor did her plot end here ; for being, in truth, despite a great deal of childish, mad-cap nonsense, a kind-hearted little personage ; she bethought her that she might really do a very good thing, if she could manage to keep alive, this new passion of Arabella's long enough to bring it to the old-fashioned conclusion of marriage. She had not witnessed the great delight which Adolphe had testified upon meeting again the only companion and friend to whom he had ever strongly attached himself, without feeling sufficiently interested about him to lead her to find out, as nearly as might be, who, and what he was ; and this had, naturally enough, led to the conviction, that it would be a monstrous good thing for him if he could marry such a fortune as Arabella's 1 " She only wondered she had never thought of it before IS'urse Xorris had put it into her head ! Lut she supposed that her dulness on the subject had been caused by tlie immistakablo in- difference of the 5'oung man. . . . And this thought caused her to pause, and think a little, if thought it might be called ; which led her to decide at last, that the less Eupert liked Arabella, the more fun there would in getting him to marry her ; and that as, FAMILY rPJLE* 247 of course, Arabella must at last marry somebody or other, her money could not be better disposed of, than in making Adolphe's particular friend a rich man ! This last decisive thought being, decidedly, a very important thought, was digested in silence ; that is to say, she clid not then and there communicate to J^urse T^orris the conclusion at which she had arrived ; but having, rather more quietly than usual, awaited the skilful old woman's assurance, that her beautiful head was quite perfect, she descended to the drawing-room with the comfortable assurance that she might set to work upon her scheme immediately, as the Schloss Schwanberg family were a part of the company expected at dinner. Fortunately for the gratification of Count Adolphe, and the fair ladies he had attached to him, the Earon de Schwanberg had not abandoned the idea that it was necessary, or, at least, highly desirable, that he should be always attended by his suite; and Kupert, therefore, as well as his mother, in her capacity of dame de com2)((gnic, accompanied him on the present occasion. The Countess Adolphe watched their entry with a sort of sparkling satisfaction, which made her look extremely pretty ; while her Venus-like sister, draped, as to the ivory shoulders, in transparent lace, and eyes melting with a sort of dreamy softness, that caused the wicked Lucy to rub her little hands with uncon- trolable glee, seemed to see only one of the group which entered; but that one received a smile which the Baroness Gertrude saw, though it is highly probable that the baron's librarian did not. CHAPTER XXXYIL "Whatever varieties may be found in the social habits and manners of the various di'awiug-rooms of Europe, there is at least one hour in every day, during a portion of which it would be dijficult to find any external variety at all. When a mixed party are assembled in a drawing-room, await- ing a summons to the dinner-table, I believe that it will invari- ably be found that the gentlemen separate themselves from the ladies, and stand chatting together in groups till the welcome 248 GEETnrDE; ok, summons arrives whicli unites them together in pairs, in the order that etiquette or inclination may dictate. The party assembled at this hour in Count Steinfeld's drawing- room, on the day that his son's bride had held at her toilet the conversation with her attendant which was related in the last chapter, consisted of about a score of persons, among whom were the Baron von Schwanberg, his daughter, and suite. The gentlemen of the party had grouped themselves at two of the windows, for the pui-pose of chatting at their ease, and of admii'ing the beautiful garden upon which the said windows opened. Gertrude, as usual, had placed herself beside the young Countess Adolphe ; but did not, as usual, find her full of gay spirits and laughing chit chat. On the contrary, she not only seemed incapable of replying to what was said to her, but it appeared very doubtful whether she had heard a single word of it. Puzzled to account for this unusual want of attention in her new friend, Gertrude ceased to addi-ess her, and turned her atten- tion to other individuals in the apartment. It did not take her long to discover the cause of the volatile Lucy's pre-occupation. On the opposite side of the room to that now occupied by the gentlemen, stood a richly- carpeted oval table, almost covered with books and engTavings ; and around, or near this table, were congregated the sofas and easy chairs on which the ladies were seated. One fair deserter from this group, had, for some reason or other (perhaps to examine the dimensions of some particularly fine tree), stationed herself in a graceful attitude of meditation at one of the windows. It required no second glance to show Gertrude that this solitary fair one was Miss Morrison. There was, indeed, no chance that any other could be mistaken for her ; for who else could have found so beautiful an attitude in which to place themselves, merely for the sake of looking out of a window ? From the picturesque individual who had thus withdrawn from the female group, Gertrude's eyes wandered back again to the friend who sat beside her ; and then she discovered why it was that Lucy had paid so very little attention to all she had said to her. Lucy's eyes were not so large, nor so meltingly soft as those of her elder sister, but there was no want of speculation in those FAMILY rrjDE. 219 laughing eyes' of hers; and a less intelligent observer than Ger- trude, wonld have found no difnculty in discovering that their merry mistress "was at that moment very particularly amused by the discoveries they were making for her. And then, of course, Gertrude's eyes took the same direction as those of her friend ; and truly she found that there was where- withal to be amused by what they looked upon. The groups which occupied the window at which the beautiful Arabella had stationed herself, consisted of Count Adolphe, his friend Eupcrt, and two gentlemen of the neighbourhood, who were discussing with them the details of a tremendous thunder- storm which had occurred in a distant part of the country ; an account of which had reached them by the newspapers of the morning. Miss Morrison, of course, clasped her beautiful, un- gloved hands, and she listened ; and every soft feature seemed to express to the utmost extent of its power, both the agitation of terror, and the sympathy of pity. Her brother-in-law was the person standing next to her ; but though she anxiously addressed repeated questions to him, re- specting the melancholy particulars of the catastrophe, it was evident that he was paying too earnest a degree of attention to the gentleman who seemed to know most on the subject, to be able to listen to her plaintive voice with the attention which it of course deserved. But this state of affairs did not last long. The gentle creature was far too deeply interested by the melancholy catastrophe of which they were speaking, to endure such heartless indifference ; and therefore, crossing her ivory arms upon her bosom, and rais- ing her eyes to Heaven, as an appeal either against the cruel severity of the elements, or the hard indifference of her brother- in-law, she glided across the window to the spot where Eupert stood, and gently laying her fingers on the arm of the almost un- conscious young librarian, she murmured her gentle inquiries ; first, in French, which she spoke with an accent which renderecl it pretty nearly intelligible, and then in English, which, as she well knew, was his mother-ton crue. " Tell me," said she, " for the love of Heaven, how much of this terrible story is true ! I am not made to endure these horrors with indifference ! Life lost ! Human life ! And so utterly without preparation ! Oh tell me. Monsieur Eupert ! Tell me that it is not true ! " To this pathetic appeal, the hard-hearted Eupert only replied by the unfeeling words, *' I beg your pardon, madame, but I did 250 GERirxDE; oe, .^ not exactly hear wliat you said ; " and then, abruptly turniug to the individual he had heen listening to, he appeared, and pro- j bably really was, utterly forgetful of her presence. ' Gertrude watched all this, and smiled, for she could not help it, at the minauderies of the beauty ; but as tricks such as she was now displaying were with her of every-day recurrence, she found nothing in them to account for Lucy's air of extreme amusement. " Yrhat is there, Lucy, in the dismal history they are giving there, that makes you look so mischievously merry '? " said Ger- trude, turning to her, after watching the group for a minute or tvro. " j\Iy dear, darling girl, you must be the very dullest soul alive, if you find nothing to amuse you in what is going on there ! . . . . But perhaps you do not Comprehend it, Gertrude? Perhaps you never before saw a lady pay her addresses to a gentleman? " Gertrude coloured. She felt that she did comprehend it, and would gladly have lost her usually delicate bloom for a month, could she thereby have avoided betraying emotion at that moment. The Countess Adolphe looked at her archly, and laughed. "You look absolutely shocked, my dear! It is rather a par- ticular manner of making a conquest, but I am so used to it, that I don't mind it at all. Arabella has not fallen in love for nearly three months, I think, and upon my word, upon this occasion, she has, in my opinion, chosen a charming subject ; for Mr. Eupert is not only the handsomest man I ever saw (excepting Adolphe, of course), but he must be a charming person, or he could not be Adolphe's dear friend. And moreover, my dear girl," continued the chattering little bride, " I shall really ap- prove her marrying this young man excessively. Of course he can't have much money of his own, or he would not be living with your papa as his librarian ; and Arabella's eighty thousand pounds sterling will be a very good catch for him, won't it?" The Bareness Gertrude, young as she still was, had been too long accustomed to the necessity of maintaining an appearance of composure, while every pulse was throbbing with painful emotion, to betray the feelings which this startling speech occasioned; and it was perhaps because she was accustomed to this painful task, that she now performed it so well. She had neither re- course to looking at the carpet, or at her fan ; but quietly turning »S PAMILT PEIDE. 251 lier eyes towards tlie group at tlic window, slie said, '' "What can have put so strange an idea into your head, dear Lucy ? " '' Exactly what must put it into your head too, my dear, if you are not blind," replied the laughing bride. '' You need not be afraid to look at her, Gertrude," she con- tinued; "for when she is in this condition, she neither knows nor cares who looks at her, nor what they may think of her pro- ceedings. I certainly never did sec anybody quite like her, in this respect ; but I suppose that is because it is so very seldom, you know, that one does see a girl with eighty thousand j)ounds sterling, entirely and altogether her own mistress. AVhy, you know, if she chose to marry Mr. Rupert's servant, if he happens to have one, there is no one in the wide world that could prevent her. She knows this as well as I do, and that's the reason that she seems to care so little what people may think of her. As to Adolphe and me, I give you my word and honour, Gertrude, that we would not take the trouble of walking across the room to prevent her marrying a shoe-black, if she took it into her head. "\Ye are quite rich enough, and I believe we shall, both of us be monstrously glad when she takes herself off. xind then, as to this young man, it would, of course, be a very pleasant thing to dear Adolphe to see him so well provided for. I really believe that he loves him as well as if he were his own brother." During this long speech, Gertrude remained with her eyes pretty steadily fixed upon the speaker ; so steadily, indeed, that Lucy at last exclaimed, "Why do you look at me, Gertrude? You might have the fun of watching them, without losing a word that I am saying. Do just look their way for one moment, Gertrude. There is nothing ridiculous in him, I don't mean that. He is looking as grave as a judge all the time. Eut it is a perfect treat to watch Arabella ! Do you think, my dear, that any woman ever did actually melt, and dissolve herself into a dew by the mere influence of the tender passion ? Because if such a catastrophe ever could happen, depend upon it, Gertrude, it is going to happen now." The Bareness Gertrude smiled, but it was a grave, proud sort of smile, and by no means satisfied Lucy. "Do you mean never to laugh again, that you miss so glorious an opportunity? " said she, again fixing her eyes upon the group at the window ; and then, as if words were inadequate to express her enjoyment, she inflicted a merry pinch upon the arm of her resolute quite neighbour, murmuring in her ear at the same time, | 252 Geeteude; oe, *' Upon my honour, I think she will kiss him ! I do, npon my word and honour, Gertrude ; and if you will not look at tliem tliis moment, I don't think that I will ever speak to you again ! " AVhat might have happened next, either to the ohservers or the ohserved, had the dinner not been announced at that moment, it is impossible to say ; but at this critical juncture the master of the house stepped forward, and presenting his arm to the most nobly allied married lady in the party, led the way to the dining- room. Gertrude was so placed at the long table, around which the company were marshalled, that she could not see the pair who had afforded her friend such exquisite amusement; she only knew that they must be seated together, because she happened to turn her head as she crossed the hall, and perceived that the beautiful Arabella was hanging on the arm of llupert. lint had she not seen this, she would have been aware of the fact from the numerous glances east by the young Countess, who sat opposite to her, towards the lower end at the same side at W'hich Gertrude herself was seated. As each of these somewhat indiscreetly long glances produced a smile on the saucy face of Lucy, which she took no pains to conceal, there could be little doubt that the manoeuvrings of her sister were proceeding in the same style which had afibrded tier so much amusement in the drawing-room. But Gertrude had not so long endured the deep-seated per- suasion that the affection which llupert felt for her was that of a brother to his sister, — she had not so long meditated upon this conviction with the unshrinking resolution of a stoic, without having taught herself to expect that she should some time or other have to watch his becoming enamoured of some other woman. And now, it seemed that the time for this had come ; and the desperate sort of courage with which she determined to hear it fcell, might have gone far towards assisting a martyr at the utmost need. Had she yielded with a little more complaisance to the earnest entreaties of her friend Lucy, during the discussion of the thunder- storm at the window of the drawing-room, and watched the cold indifference, or rather the utter unconsciousness with which Eupert suffered the fair lady's glances and sighs to pass over him, she might have spared herself a great deal of very unnecessary suffering. The evening of this day was, as usual, spent in music. Ger- trude very rarely sang, and never in so large a party. The tone FA3IILY PEIDE. 253 of her voice was delicioiisly swoct, but ^[adanie Odentlial was the only one wlio was fully aware of this fact; for, conscious that she had little power, and less science, the act of singing in company was really painful to her; and with her usual quiet perseverance in doing what she thought rational, she had taught her friends and acquaintance to leave off asking her to sing l]ut she played well, and had of late found solitary practice a great resource, as well as the means of great improvement. She therefore no longer declined to play when invited to do so ; and she was, perhaps, proud to feel, that upon the present occasion she was as much mistress of her fingers, as if there Avere no such person as Arabella Morrison in the world. It so happened, that on the present occasion, one of Count Steinf eld's guests was a young man of very prepossessing appearance, who was a stranger in the neighbourhood, though his family were near neighbours to the Count ; but the young Earon jS'orclorffe was an officer in the Austrian service, and having been more with his family at Vienna than in the country, was personally a stranger in the vicinity of his father's country residence. This young man had been amus- ing himself during the long interval passed at the dinner-table, in comparing the beauty of the English Arabella, with that of his countrywoman, Gertrude. They had both sat oj^posite to him, so he enjoyed a favourable opportunity for the study of both. Under any and every imaginable circumstance, the marked contrast between them must have been striking to every one, but it was not well possible for this to have been displayed better than on the present occasion. The flaxen-haired Arabella rarely sat still for many seconds together. She had always too much to do, to permit this. She had to arrange her curls ; she had to show off her hands and arms ; she had to find or make opportu- nities for displaying her teeth; and, what was much more important than all the rest, she had to perform without ceasing, all those wonderful evolutions Avith her ej'es, which she certainly considered as the most important of all her social duties. The young Baron Xordorffe certainly thought her wonderfully beautiful, even before he found out that she was wonderfully amusing also ; and for some time, he devoted to her pretty nearly all the attention which a young gentleman who had taken a good deal of attive morning exercise, could spare from his dinner. An object in perpetual movement when full in sight of us, is pretty sure to attract the eye ; but sometimes it will also happen 254 GEETErDE; OE, that the eye fixes itself upon an object because it is perfectly at rest ; and thus it was, that after the young Baron Xurdorffe had amused himself for some time by the ceaseless mobility of Arabella, he turned his eyes, as if for repose, on the quiet Ioto- liness of Gertrude. It was impossible, perhaps, that this laveliness could have been displayed with greater effect than it then was, most unconsciously to the pre-occupicd girl herself. The contrast was in every way favourable to her ; for not only was her beauty of a higher order, but the composure of her demeanour had as much of dignity as indifference in it. A waiting-maid, or a milliner, might have played all the tricks that Arabella was performing, without any difiiculty whatever ; but it is only a gentlewoman who can be sufficiently at ease in society to look as Gertrude did. Earon Xordorffc was just then particularly unlikely to fall in love, because his head, and his heart too, were very fully occupied by a much more important affair. He had, in fact, very strong liopes of being appointed aide-de-camp to an amiable and highly fashionable general officer, and till this very interesting question was settled, he could not occup}' himself seriously about anything else ; nevertheless, he had certainly found considerable amuse- ment from occasionally fixing his handsome eyes, first on the one fair lady, and then on tlie other ; and, despite his preoccupation, he was sufficiently interested by the appearance and manner of Gertrude, to request his hostess to present him to her, when they returned to the drawing-room. Earon I^ordorffe, like the majority of his countrymen, was really fond of music, and he knew enough about it too, to be quite aAvare that the performance of the Baroness Gerti ade was of no common order ; and even if he had not thought her the handsomest woman in the room, he would probably have hovered near her with the same marked attention till the party sepa- rated. His doing so produced, however, no veiy great impression upon her of any tind. He was a gentlemanlike and conversable young man, and she felt neither bored, nor even fatigued, by his talking to her; for it was by no means part of her system to have recourse to her own thoughts for amusement while in the company of others. "Whether on the present occasion these thoughts, less obedient than usual, might have wandered a little from the lively metro- politan gossip of her new acquaintance, to the information she had received from Luc^ respecting the present tender passioa gf FAMILY PEIDE. 255 her sister, it would be hardly fair to inquire. If it were so, she gave no sympton that sneh thoughts had made any impression on her, for she returned home at night apparently in the same equable state of spirits as usual. CHAPTEE XXXYIII. But the events of the day had not passed over the mind of Rupert so lightly. As to the beauteous Arabella, however, it would have been quite " all one that she should have loved some bright particular star, and thought to wed it," as that she should hope to make any impression upon the heart of the Earon von Schwanb erg's librarian. He certainly must have been rather a singular young man ; for it is a positive fact, that neither upon this occasion nor upon any other which had preceded it, had she made more impression upon his heart, or even upon his memory, than her pet dog had done. Had he been urged to give an opinion upon the merits of cither, he could only have complied by making an effort to think more on the subject than he had yet done ; and then, if he had answered with perfect honesty, he must have replied that he thouirht them both rather troublesome. But although the unfortunate young man had forgotten all about her eyes, and her arms, and all the rest of her numberless claims to admiration, he had not forgotten any of the manoeuvres of Baron Xordorffe, by which he had contrived to occupy the attention of Gertrude during great part of the evening. It would be an o'er long tale to tell how well the idle notion of her inherited pride had served him as a shield against all her beauty, all her sympathy of mind, and all her kindness to his mother. But the ill-supported fabric fell at last ; and long, very long before he was himself aware of his own condition, he loved her with all the devotion of an ardent and powerfully developed character. If Gertrude on her side had loved him less, he would have been more likely to discover that her feelings towards hiiu olfered no absolutelj^ fatal barrier to his wishes, 256 geeteude; ob, It was the consciousness of licr own unchangeable but unaskcd- for love, which had made her so strongly feel the necessity of reserve ; nay, of more than reserve. She felt the necessity of adopting a line of conduct which might not only prove her indifference to him, but give him reason to suppose, that either from love of power, or an extreme fastidi- ousness, she was extremely likely to remain unmarried. As no hope of possessing her was ever permitted to cross his fancy, the idea of her remaining single, was the most fortunate for himself that could have entered his head ; for it fostered all his habits of study, and often suggested the idea of their latter years being still passed in a community of literary occupation, Avhich would place him about mid-way between misery and happiness. It was in this state of mind that he went to Paris, and in this state of mind he continued till the acceptance of the Count Hernwold dispelled this (certainly) rather presumptuous hope. Eut the mind of Eupert Odcnthal was not fitted to be the receptacle of despair. He certainly abandoned this hope of remaining the librarian of Schloss Schwanberg to his dying day ; but, after meditating through a few sleepless nights, he at length came to the conclusion that the approaching event would set his spirit more completely at rest, and more perfectly free, than it had ever been before ; and the idea of becoming a solitary, undis- turbed, literary man, and so remaining to his dying day, began to have charms for him. At least he fancied so ; but, altogether, it must be confessed that he occasionally felt a good deal like a man who had been suffering from delirium ; and it was only when this doubtful, dreamy sort of sensation left him, that he became conscious of his still pitiable weakness. 'No sooner did this consciousness return, than his efforts to emancipate himself returned likewise. AYithout having any over-weening opinion of himself, he cer- tainly felt that nature had designed him for something better than a love-lorn, hopeless swain, whose existence was to wear away in pining for a blessing that was beyond his reach. *' There is so much," thought he, ''to which I may reasonably aspire, that the fixing my wishes upon what I can never obtain, would be acting considerably more like a spoiled child, than a reasonable man." And fortified by this admirable philosophy, he was enabled to act, to speak, and even to look with such uniform forbearance and propriety, that a much vainer woman than Gertrude might FAMILY PRIDE. 257 have been led to the conclusion at which she had arrived respect- ing his constant and unchangeable indifference towards her. During the visit at Count Stcinfeld's, which has been described in the last chapter, he had, however, the mortification of fearing that he had not advanced so far towards real, genuine, and sincere indifference, as he had flattered himself. He was provoked and indignant at his own weakness, as he felt the hot blood mounting to his temples, while he marked the evident admiration of the young stranger, and on leaving his pillow on the following morning, whereon he had not dreamed, but meditated, he resolved, for the first time, to lead his mother into conversation on the subject of Gertrude, both as concerned the marriage which had been so abruptly broken off at Paris, and on the conquest which she had, in his opinion, so evidently made on the preceding evening. Had Rupert been less uniformly successful in concealing from his mother the secret which he still intended should lie for ever buried in his heart, he would doubtless have found more difficulty than he now experienced in leading her to talk, almost without reserve, upon the subject. So perfectly, indeed, was the good lady convinced that her son had never for a moment forgotten the distance between himself and the honoured heiress of his magnificent patron, that it had positively never occurred to her as a thing possible that he should love her, even as she too well knew the unfortunate heiress loved him. Had it been otherwise, no consideration whatever would have induced her to sufi'er their present manner of life to con- tinue ; for Madame Odenthal had a sensitive, nay, almost a timid, conscience ; and not even the belief that she might ensure the life-long happiness of both, could have induced her to connive at keeping together those whom the '^ Almanack de Gotha" so evidently intended to keep asunder. But her mind was perfectly at ease on this point. Both her knowledge of Gertrude, and of her own woman's heart, taught her to know that, as long as her son retained his indiff'erence, there was no need for her to break up their comfortable establish- ment, in order to preserve her pupil from the danger of an unequal alliance. On the contrary, she thought, and certainly not without some show of reason, that her attachment was much more likely to wither quietly away, under the influence of Kupert's blighting indifi'erence, than if he were separated from her by any will but his own. Supert, therefore, found his mother perfectly unprepared for 18 258 GERTurDE; oe, the examination to which it was his purpose to submit her, and her early entrance into the library, on the morning following the dinner party which has been describedj afforded him an excellent opportunity for the purpose. Madame Odenthal had entered the room in search of a volume which the young baroness had requested her to procure for her ; and having impressed a loving mother's kiss on the forehead of the young man as she passed him, was about to leave it, when he recalled her, by saying, "Are you vanishing again, mother, without bestowing a word upon me ? Come ! — sit down quietly with me for five minutes, and tell me what you thought of the party yesterday." His mother immediately complied with the request, and placed herself near him at his writing-table. *' The party was a very nice party. Did you not think so ? " said she, smiling. **I am sure it was not the fault of Miss Morrison if you did not, for, most assuredly, Rupert, she looked beautiful with all her might. Did you not think so ? " " Certainly, I did," was his reply. '' Eut she always does that, you know, so I am used to it, and quite hardened. But I saw, also, what is not quite of such constant recurrence, namely, a very evident approach to flirtation between your young baroness and the newly-imported Earon JSTordorffe. I think you must have observed it, mother, as well as myself. Did you not? " ''Ko, Rupert," she gently replied; *'I saw nothing of the sort. Flirtation cannot be performed as a solo, you know ; and I am sure I saw nothing like flirtation in the manner of the Baroness Gertrude." *'Nay, mother, I did not mean to accuse her of the slightest impropriety," said he, gravely; "but if flirtation is not to be named, I think you will not deny that the young man was very evidently captivated ? " "Why, really, I think it did look a little like it, Eupert," she returned; "but Gertrude's manner is not calculated, I think, to give strangers much encouragement." "At any rate, mother, she evidently gave this new man as much encouragement as was necessary," said Rupert, somewhat sarcastically. " How much will you bet me, mother," he added, "that the Baron Nordorffe does not propose for her before he leaves the country ? " " I shall think him a very presumptuous man if he does," was her reply. " I know little or nothing about him ; but truly the heiress of Schwanberg — and such an heiress, too— deserves to be FAMILY PEIDE. 259 adored at a distance for at least a little while, before her fair self and her broad lands are asked for." "You are as jealous of her greatness, my dear mother, as her father himself could be," replied Rupert, with a faint smile ; "but, I presume," he added, "that you would be rather more indulgent than the loving father himseK in such a matter as this." "You mean to insinuate, then, that Gertrude has sho'wn her- self as inflammable on her side as the Earon iS'ordorffe on his ? You are of opinion that the Baroness Gertrude is enamoured of this new gentleman, are you ? " " It may be so, mother," replied Eupert, looking earnestly at her. " This may be your judgment respecting her," replied Madame Odenthal, gravely, "but it is not mine, Eupert." " Do not be angry with me, dear mother ! " said he. " I did not mean to say anything oifensive. Eut it certainly appeared to me that she was by no means displeased by the attentions of this young man." "Displeased? And why should she be displeased, Eupert? There was nothing offensive in her attentions." "Evidently not," he replied. "But, nevertheless, it is very possible that you may be right, mother," he added. " It is very possible that, notwithstanding all that has passed, she may still retain too tender a recollection of Count Hernwold, to permit her, so very soon, to receive the addresses of another." There was certainly something extremely far from amiable in the tone with which these words were spoken, and good Madame Odenthal was, perhaps, more seriously displeased with her son at that moment than she had ever been with him before, since the hour of his birth. The words were decidedly ungracious words, and very unjust when applied to Gertrude. " I have never considered it as a part of my duty, as the salaried companion of the Baroness Gertrude, to explain to you, Eupert, or to any one else, what I considered to be real motives, and feelings, which induced her to receive the addresses of Count Hernwold," she said, with more sternness of manner than was at all n3ual with her : " nor shall I enter upon the subject now. I certainly should have thought that the most indifferent observer in the world, if gifted with common capacity, and ha-^dng known her so long as you have done, might give her credit for better reasons for accepting a man whose highest merit was having the manners and appearance of a man of fashion, than, to use a 260 geeteude; oe, vulgar phrase, haYing fallen hi love with him. It never occuiTed to you, I suppose, that her earnest desire to gratify the wishes of her father was the cause of this acceptance ? " ** Never! " replied Rupert, with emphasis. For a moment Madame Odenthal was silent, but she looked at him very earnestly, and with an expression that perplexed him, for it spoke (unintentionally) surprise and curiosity, not wholly unmixed with doubt. She waited in vain, however, for any further reply to her question, and, at length, said : '* Let us not waste our time, Rupert, in idle speculations on the character of the Baroness Gertrude, which it is very evident you do not sufficiently compre- hend to discuss with firmness ; but I must confess that, great as your dulness appears to be on the subject, I could not have believed it possible that you should conceive her capable of re- taining tender recollections of a man who has behaved to her father in the way which you know Count Hernwold has done ? " And having said this, she rose with rather a rapid movement, and left the room. Her son remained very deeply absorbed in rumination. "What was there in that last glance which she cast upon him, to cause so strange a revulsion of feeling ? The countenance of Madame Odenthal was usually expressive of great gentleness, and she rarely parted from him without a kindly nod or smile, betokening affection. But now he could only remember her parting look as expressive both of anger and contempt. He knew his mother well. He knew that no mere difference of opinion could have caused her to bestow such a glance upon him. He felt that he had been unjust to Gertrude. But his mother's words had accused him of more than that; she had spoken of dulness on his part, as well as of injustice. But it would be easier to follow the movements of a vapoury cloud, and attempt to explain why at one moment it took this form, and at another that, than to attempt any intelligible de- scription of the flitting thoughts, which passed across the brain of Rupert, after his mother had closed the library door upon him. Perhaps it is impossible for any man to have been beloved as he had been, without a thought at some moment occurring to him, that was more or less tinctured with the truth. But, in his case, the impediments to his dwelling upon any such thoughts as deserving belief, were gi'eat indeed. The strong persuasion FAMILY PEIDE. 261 which had possessed him for years, that Gertmde inherited the absurd and very paltry pride of her father, had certainly gone far towards preventing his knowing, or even guessing, her to be the noble creature which she really was ; and when at last this bltindering delusion passed away, and he saw her with less of prejudice and more of truth, he had been struck with a feeling that almost resembled terror, from the idea of returning all the benefits he had received from his patron, by seeking to rob him of the treasure which he prized so dearly. It is true, that day by day, he felt more strongly that not to love her was impossible ; and though this conviction involved the necessity of his passing a life uncheered by hope and unblest by affection, he screwed his courage very resolutely to the endurance of it, cheered by the reflection that he might reasonably hope for her companionship for years to come ; for he instinctively felt that if her father's authority did not interfere to force her in- clination, she was not likelj' to be easily won. The announcement of her intended marriage when they were at Paris, was certainly a tremendous shock to him, for he had not expected it ; but this young and highly intellectual man had not loved for a year or two under the firm conviction that he loved in vain, without being in a great degree prepared to endure such a shock, without sinking under it. And Rupert did not sink. He turned to the resources and consolations furnished by his own mind, and by the many oppor- tunities afforded by his present position for enlarging his stores of knowledge, and increasing the sphere of his intelligence. Yet, nevertheless, as the preparations for the marriage of Ger- trude proceeded, he felt conscious that it would be a great bless- ing if he could be out of sight of them ; and, as we know, he paid a timely visit to his uncle Alaric. It is unnecessary to trace what his feelings might have been upon learning the rupture of this marriage. JN^ot all his prudence could prevent his hailing the return of the family to Schloss Schwanberg as something very like a restoration to life ; and the subsequent retm-n of his friend Adolphe (accompanied by his wife), rendered the weeks which followed decidedly the happiest he had ever known. Far as he was from the truth respecting the real state of Ger- trude's affections, there was something in the steady sedateness Avith which she arranged and regulated her manner of life, which not unnaturally suggested the idea that she meant it to continue. Even the circumstance of her ceasing to make the library her 262 GEETErDE; OR, morning sitting-room, and thereby leaving him in solitary posses- sion of it, much as he would have wished to change this for the habits of the good old times (when the bright and highly culti- vated intelligence of his beloved patroness liad helped to pioneer his own active mind through the labrynth of accumulated thought which was ranged around them) ; yet he found much to soften his regret at having lost this, in the idea naturally suggested by Gertrude's punctual adherence to her new arrangement, which led to the obvious conclusion, that what had so e^ddently been planned with deliberation, was intended to be lasting. That the young and lovely Baroness Gertrude von Schwanberg should have deliberately taken the resolution of remaining single through life, was an idea that had certainly a good deal of im- probability in it, and Eupert would have acknowledged this as readily as anyone ; but nevertheless there was a feeling, rather than an opinion, which lay at the bottom of his heart, and which whispered incessantly, that it was at least possible. How much this soothing idea contributed to his enjoyment of the life he was now leading, it might be difficult to say ; but it had received a rude shock while watching the attentions of the handsome and graceful Earon IS'ordorffe ; and the very decidedly bad temper in which his mother had found him on the following morning, was certainly attributed to this. Eut she little guessed, good lady, how much more than suffi- cient to cure this was the scolding which she had given him. That one word didness, and the look which, quite unconsciously on her part, accompanied it, had done more towards making him feel it 2^ossihle that he was beloved, than all the years that had passed over them, every day of which might have given ample proof of the fact, had he but read them right. CHAPTER XXXIX. The evening of that day had been fixed upon by a noble lady in the neighbourhood for giving — not a ball, that was quite out of the question on so short a notice — but a dance, which she assured the Steinfeld family was in honour of the beautiful Miss Morrison ; but nevertheless it may be doubtful if it would have FAMILY PRIDE. ^63 been given at all, had not the highly distinguished Baron jS'or- dorife been in the country. But whatever might be the lady's motive, the act was hailed as a benefaction by the whole neighbonrhood. By no one, however, was the invitation more joyfully wel- comed than by Madame Adolphe de Steinfeld. *' ISTow, then," thought that lively lady, " I shall have the exceeding delight of once more seeing Arabella waltz with the hero of the hour ! And if Gertrude is too well behaved to enjoy it with me, I will give her up at once, and she shall never be my particular friend again." The day and the hour for this gaily anticipated amusement arrived accordingly, and in order to ensure herself from the possi- bility of disappointment, the laughter-loving Lucy commissioned her husband to arrange the first dance according to her especial will and pleasure. " Being a bride, I must, of course, dance with the dashing young son and heir of the mansion ; and you, Adolphe, being a bridegroom, must, of course, dance with the not very beautiful eldest daughter. I am sorry for you, my dear," she added, coaxingly, ''but it cannot be helped. You may have free choice afterwards. But you must observe," she con- tinued, gravely, "that I make a particular point of Arabella's dancing the first waltz with your friend Rupert. He is really a most charming person, besides the being your most intimate friend, and I like to show everybody that we all consider him as a person of first-rate consequence." "That is very sweet of you, my pretty Lucy; but are you quite sure that your magnificent sister will approve your choice for her?" " Do not give yourself any anxiety on that point, my beloved," replied his wife. " I should be excessively stupid if I had not found out by this time what my magnificent sister would approve, and what she would not. I know her better than you do as yet, Adolphe, dear, and I pledge you my word that she will not dis- like dancing the fii'st waltz with your friend Eupert — nor the last, either." As the latter part of this speech was uttered very decidedly, avec intention (if I may borrow an expressive phrase from our faithful allies), it aroused a greater degree of attention on the part of Adolphe, than he was always in the habit of paying to the lively sallies of his pretty bride. "What do you mean, Lucy?" said he, very eagerly; "do you think your sister has fallen in love with Rupert Odenthal? " 264 gertevde; oe, ** Yes, husband," replied Lucy, yery demurely placing her hands before her, with the air of a dutiful child who is about to be questioned. " You think your sister Arabella has fallen in love with the baron's librarian ? " " Yes, husband," repeated Lucy, with a modest little courtesy. *' How can you talk such nonsense, my dear little angel!" said the fond husband, caressing her. " We never talk of un- married ladies falling in loTe in our country, unless the parties are engaged to be manied." '' That is a great deal better than our way," replied Lucy, gravely; ''but with us," she added, "unmarried ladies very often do fall in love, without being able to manage the marrying part of the business at all to their satisfaction. But perhaps it is possible that our sister Arabella may be more fortunate." " Do you mean to say, Lucy, that you think my friend Rupert is in love with your sister ? " said Adolphe, thoughtfully ; adding, in a half whisper, "I don't." " 'No more do I," rejoined Lucy, holding up her finger play- fully, and mimicking his tone. " But a man may be heart-whole one day, and in love the next ; you can't deny that, Adolphe. ]My sister is very handsome, my good man, whatever you may think of the matter; and moreover, as I told you, my dear, when, you offered to me, she has rather more than double my fortune." " Rupert will never marry for money, Lucy," replied Adolphe, knitting his brow. "Don't look so fierce, my dear," replied his wife, laughing. " I really like Rupert excessively, and perhaps, though he is only a librarian, I should think him too good for my ridiculous sister. . . . Only, you know, Arabella is really very rich. She would be a great match for him, in that point of view, and giddy as you think me, I have always been taught to know, and re- member, that as long as we remain in this wicked world, money is, and ever must be, a very good thing." Madame Adolphe von Steinfeld uttered these words so gravely, as to make her husband laugh. " You may laugh, Adolphe, as much as you like," she added; "but you cannot deny the truth of what I say. But let us be quite serious, both of us, for one minute. I am quite in earnest when I say that I should be very glad to see my sister Arabella marry Rupert Odenthal. Kow tell me, quite in earnest, too, how you should like it ? " FAMILY PEIDE. 265 Her husband did not immediately reply ; but after a silence, during which his eyes were fixed on the floor, he said, " Your question is not an easy one to answer, Lucy. Trust me, I love you all the better for the feeling which would reconcile you to becoming the sister of a man both poor and lowly born, because he is my friend ; and it seems like an ungrateful return for this, to say that I do not think your sister worthy of the happiness of becoming Eupert's Avife." '* ^ay, dearest ! Do not stand upon ceremony with me ! " re- turned his gay little wife, bestowing a playful caress upon him. " Perhaps you have found out, you sharp-witted creature, that I have not the very highest possible opinion of Arabella myself. But it is possible, you know, that the becoming Rupert's wife may improve her. I have often thought that it would be a monstrous good thing for her if she were married, because it would be impossible for her to make such a fool of herself then as she does now. But on the other hand, it is quite certain that her money will remain the same ; and just think, Adolphe, what is to become of your dear friend when the old baron dies ! . . . . He cannot leave him that great grand room, and all the books in it, by way of a legacy; and if he did, the poor dear fellow would be obliged to sit and starve there, in the midst of them, for I am sure he w^ould not sell one of the books to save his life." ''Lucy!." replied her husband, rather solemnly, *'I think Eupert Odenthal would rather starve, than marry a woman he disliked." " Disliked ! Oh, Adolphe ! AYhat strong words you do use ! " exclaimed his wife. " I can't think how you can talk of disliking such a beautiful creature as Arabella ! It is very natural that / should not be very fond of Arabella, because she is so much older than I am, and has always wanted to tyrannize over me ; but that is no reason at all why such a young man as Rupert should not both admire her beauty, and like her fortune." "Perfectly true, my dear love," replied Adolphe, laughing; '' and though I don't think I should like to propose the match to him, I promise you to do nothing to impede it. Heaven knows that if I did not think she would plague him, there is nothing I should like so much as seeing him placed in the possession of an independent fortune, and our both of us having, moreover, the privilege of calling him brother." ^ *'AYell, now! that is beautifully said, Adolphe! " exclaimed his wife, gaily. ''And I may trust you then, may I not? I 2G6 gelteijde; or, may trust, I mean, that you "will say nothing to Hupcrt to set him against her ? " '' Certainly yon may," replied her hushand. *' Indeed, to say the truth," he added, "I do not feel at all disposed to speak otherwise than kindly of her; for if you are right, Lucy, in believing that she wishes to marry my friend Kupert, it proves her to he of a very noble and disinterested character, for she must be quite aware what his position is." " Oh, yes ! She is quite perfectly, and altogether aware, of what his position is," returned Lucy. "And the only thing necessary to render the marriage a happy one, is that Eupert too, after they are married, should be equally well aware what her position will be then. All wives, you know, my dear, are obliged to do exactly what their husbands choose ; and as your friend Eupert is a very sensible man, he will not choose that his wife should behave like a fool ; and that will make a great improvement in Arabella." The conversation proceeded for some time longer, in a tone which seemed to hover between jest and earnest; but it ended, however, by Adolphe promising very seriously, that he would neither do, nor say anything, to prejudice his friend against Miss Morrison ; nor, in short, do anything which might, in any way, impede the marriage which his wife so very greatly desired to bring about. And in truth. Count Adolphe himself, when left to take a sober, solitaiy view of the affair, began to think that such a marriage as Lucy contemplated for Rupert, was perhaps the only means by which such a degree of independence could be secured to him as might enable him, when his present patron was no more, to indulge his studious habits, without running any risk of being starved by doing so. Matters were in this state when the promised dancing party took place ; and the whole neighbourhood, not a very large one, seemed assembled together with the pre-determination of being superlatively gay and happy. The venerable Baron von Schwanberg did not always think it necessary to attend his daughter to the parties assembled for the express purpose of dancing ; considering her dame de comimgnie a sufficient chaperon, and his librarian and private secretary a sufficient ^uiU. But upon this particular occasion, he proclaimed Ms intention of accompanying her party, stating his reason for doing so, to be his wish to sec the beautiful English heiress, Miss Morrison, performing the national dance. FAMILY TEIDE. 267 This exceedingly flattering compliment was felt as he intended it should be by the beauty, who prepared herself accordingly to be more captivating than ever. It is possible, indeed, that the extreme care bestowed upon every part of her attire, might have had its origin in the silence of Pvupert, rather than in the eloquence of his patron. In fact, Arabella began to feel a good deal surprised, and a little alarmed, at the no progress she had made in her resolutely-purposed con- quest of Eupert : it was really the first time in her life that she had ever encountered so much difficulty in achieving this object ; for her beauty was precisely of the kind to produce a suddeiz fever of admiration, while her demeanour was precisely of the kind to encourage the most frank declaration of it. It is likely enough, however, notwithstanding the intrinsic value of her fair hand, that many who had scrupled not to avow their adoration of her beauty, might have scrupled about giving their name in exchange for her wealth, even if her unbridled covetousness for new conquests had not led her to leave the victims _ she had subdued, for the sake of pursuing others who were still unscathed. There could be no doubt, however, that during the last ten years she might have been married, at least, as many times, if such had been her will ; but hitherto she had evidently preferred hitting her game, to taking possession of it. ^ IJpon the present occasion, however, her feelings were wholly different ; whether this difference arose from her having really re- ceived a deeper impression than she had ever felt before, or merely from the eagerness occasioned by the difficulty of obtaining her object, may be doubted. There might, perhaps, be a mixture of both ; and moreover, it is by no means impossible that her having listened to a conversation between the young ladies, in which one was almost convulsed with laughter herself, while reducing the other to the same extremity, by relating how she had positively heard an old maid talking of women who were at least five-and- tweyity, and calling them girls ! To an unmarried beauty of twenty-eight, there was a mixture of something terrific in this jest; and it might certainly have some effect in producing the resolution which she speedily came to, of marrying Eupert, as well as falling in love with him. She was not insensible to the fact, that Eupert had not as yet followed the example of all the other men on whom she had be- stowed an equal degree of encouragement ; that is to say, he had not declared himself her adorer. 268 geeteule; oe, The anger which might have been created by this, was effec- tively checked by the persuasion, that his silence was occasioned by timidity, and not by indifference ; and under the influence of this persuasion, she very deliberately made up her mind to let him understand that, in her estimation, love should for ever be "lord of all;" and that her beautifully fair hand, with her eighty thousand pounds sterling in it, were at his service. CHAPTER XL. If any kind dickey-bird, or prophetic mesmerising friend, had whispered in Eupert's ear, as he took his accustomed place, as suite, in the carriage which was to convey him to the promised waltzing party, ' ' that a beautiful lady would very nearly make him an offer of marriage before he returned home," he would probably have been seized with such a fit of the tooth-ache, as might have sufliced to excuse his bolting out of the carriage, and hiding himself in his bed-room. But as no such miracle was performed in his favour, he drove on, poor, unconscious youth, and made his entree very nearly at the same time as his self- destined bride. The scene was a very gay one, and as bright and beautiful as pretty women, flowering shrubs, and abundance of wax-lights could make it. Adolphe had not forgotten the promise he had given his wife respecting the arrangements for the first waltz ; and it was, therefore, as the partner of the Baron von Schwanberg's librarian, that the beautiful Arabella prepared to exhibit her unequalled loveliness, and her peculiarly bewitching style of dancing. It was a searching glance that Eupert sent round the circle as he stood up with her. This glance was not in the hope of finding anything he wished to see, but precisely the contrary ; and though carefully searching, it was perfectly satisfactory, for no Baron de IS'ordorfte was there. Poor Eupert was perhaps hardly conscious himself of the effect which this discovery produced on his spirits, but for the moment it was positively favourable to Arabella, for it caused him to dance with a much greater degree of animation than was usual to him. Arabella was aware of the animation, but altogether mistook FAMILY PEIBE. 269 the cause ; and before the dance ended she had succeeded in fully persuading herself that all the coldness she had hitherto perceived in him, had arisen solely from his timidity, and the painful con- sciousness which accompanied it, that the librarian of Schloss Schwanberg must not lift his eyes with the audacity of love to the beautiful possessor of eighty thousand pounds sterling. There are, doubtless, to be found, in these rapidly improving latter days, a multitude of highly-educated young ladies, who, although conscious that their respective papas have acquired colossal fortunes by a traffic in money, or money's worth, are yet aware that not quite every young man who dances with them, would be delighted to marry them, if he could. But our Arabella Morrison was not one of these. Her father had spent his entire life in successful industry, and being by nature of a confiding domestic temperament, he had been in the constant habit of indulging himself, when in the bosom of his family, with a good deal of comfortable, confidential boasting, all tending to show, and to prove, that money formed not only the sinews of war, but of everything else in civilised human society . . . that the man, or woman, who possessed it might, if they knew how to use it, possess anything, and everything, they wished for, from one end of the earth to the other . . . and that only those who had it not, were in any danger of finding them- selves obliged to sacrifice their own inclinations to those of other people. " I could find in my heart something like pity," he was wont to say, "for any poor devils who had got into mischief by reason of their poverty ; but I have no pity whatever for rich folks, who don't know the value of what they have got." The ideas thus impressed upon the minds of his daughters concerning the importance of the wealth which it was in his power and purpose to bestow on them, was, doubtless, influential in forming the characters of both, but in a very unequal degree. Her own beauty, and her own fortune, filled the mind of the eldest too completely to leave room for any feelings not connected either with one or the other. But it was not so with the young Lucy. She was light-hearted and afi'ectionate ; and although her own large fortune, and her sister's still larger one, were oftener in her thoughts than might have been the case had she been accustomed to a higher class of ideas as the theme of daily domestic talk, she had still enough of unspoiled native material about her to love what was good, and hate what was bad, with- out any reference to her own particular interest. 270 GEExnrDE; oe, It was this feeling which led her to wish very seriously, in the midst of all her fun and frolic, that Rupert might, in sober earnest, become the lover of her wealthy sister ; and her inherited and habitual faith in the influence of wealth, led her to believe that there could be no difficulty whatever in bringing this about, provided the young man was made aware that the hand of her sister was really attainable. Arabella, meanwhile, on her side was, at least, equally confi- dent that either her beauty, or her wealth, was sufficient to make him her slave (or, in vulgar parlance, her husband), and that nothing but his respect for her superior station was likely to impede his throwing himself at her feet. AVhile the thoughts of the two English sisters were thus generously engrossed by this very obscure young man, he was, at the bottom of his ungrateful heart, as unmindful of them both, as if they had been a pair of pretty goldfinches, imported by his friend Adolphe, as specimens. As such, however, he treated them both with the sort of consideration and attention which he would have bestowed on anything considered as valuable or interesting by this much-loved friend. But beyond this he certainly never bestowed a thought upon them ; and upon this particular occasion, while one of these fair importations was bringing every faculty, and almost eveiy muscle, into action in the hope of enchanting him, and the other generously working her active little brain to discover the best way of bringing a marriage between her wealthy sister, and his penniless self to a happy conclusion (before the fair Arabella changed her mind), he forgot as nearly as it was possible for him to do, that they existed. It is true, indeed, that he danced with them both, but he danced with Gertrude likewise ; and though there was certainly no perceptible change in her gentle, equable manner to him, he felt, from some cause or other, which it would be difficult very clearly to define, that he had never enjoyed a ball so much in his Hfe. The unhoped-for absence of the young Baron ISTordorfi'e might have had something to do with it, or it might be that his recent conversation with his mother had made him conscious that he had indeed been unjust to Gertrude ; and he was now, perhaps, feeling happy, because his heart told him that he was unjust to her no longer. In truth, as he looked at her beautiful face, and read there the noble calmness, the thoughtful intelligence, and the gentle con- FAMILY PrJDE. 271 tent, which it expressed, he felt that, in the words which he had spoken to his mother respecting her, he had, indeed, done her great injustice. Nothing makes people so gracious and so agreeable as the sensation of ha^^pincss; and so gracious and so agreeable had llupert been, that, far from feeling in despair, the beautiful Arabella laid her head that night upon her pillow, with the delightful conviction that the handsomest man her eyes had ever looked upon, only wanted a little more encouragement to throw himself at her feet. And before she closed her eyes in sleep, she very solemnly told herself that he should have whatever degree of encouragement might be still required to bring him there, ^"hatever deficiency she had seen in his apparent admiration of her universally acknowledged beauty, she attributed with great satisfaction, and the most undoubting confidence, to the awe naturally inspired in his mind, by the inequality of their stations in life. "Had he dared to make me an offer of marriage this evening, I should most assuredly have refused him." . . . Thus ran her mental soliloquy ; "for it would have been a presumption unpar- donable, even in him, unequalled as he is ! ISTothing — no — nothing but the most frank and generous encouragement on my part could justify such audacity on his. I am thankful that he has not been guilty of this ; for I must, in justice to my ovm elevated position, have refused him, if he had done so, devotedly as I am attached to him. Xoble-looking, graceful, enchanting Eupert ! I have often fancied myself in love, but I never knew what love really is, till now ! And shall I, then, refuse to make both him and myself happy for life, merely because circumstances oblige me to speak first, instead of him ? Young as I still am, I have lived long enough to know the symptoms of love when I see them. ISTo man's eyes ever sparkled and danced in his head as those of Eupert did to-night, without his being in love ! Luckily for me, and my adored Eupert, there is no living soul in the whole wide world who has either the right or the power to con- trol me ! Our love shall be as faithful as it is fervent, for never can he, nor will he, forget the generosity which makes me indifferent to his total want of fortune ; nor can I ever hope, or expect, or even wish, to see any other man looking so gloriously handsome as he did to-night ! " Such were the last waking thoughts of the beautiful Arabella on her return from the ball, which, in a greater or less degree, had proved so very agreeable to some others of the party ; nor 272 GERTRUDE; OR, were her waking thouglits on the following morning at all less passionately tender, or less deToteclly generous. She had found the means of making herself a very decided ftivourite with the Baron von Sehwanberg, probably because she had acted by him as her piinciples taught her to act by every created man. Xone were too young — none were too old — to be captivated ; and the Baron von Sehwanberg, like a great many other old gentlemen with whom she had made acquaintance, was ready to declare that she was by far the most charming young lady he had ever known. And she, on her side, declared herself on this occasion, as on many former ones, to be very proud of the admiration which old gentlemen in general expressed for her ; for it proved clearly, she said, that she had a gi-eat and praiseworthy respect for old age. Her saucy sister, indeed, puzzled her a little one day by asking her, when she was boasting of this amiable feeling, why old ladies did not seem to like her as much as old gentlemen ? It was from the stately Baron von Sehwanberg himseK that the invitation proceeded which led to the engagement, the remembrance of which so delightfully cheered the waking thoughts of Arabella. He had himself invited her and her sister to accompany Adolphe to the castle on that day, and to dine with them sans ceremonie. The two young men (Adolphe and llupert) having previously made an arrangement to ride together to a little town at the distance of a dozen miles, where Rupert had some commission to execute for his patron. The invitation had been as cordially accepted as it was given, and the enamoured beauty had decided upon a plan before she closed her eyes in sleep, by which she flattered herself she should at once bring afl'airs to the happy crisis at which she was impa- tient to see them arrive. CHAPTER XLI. Count Adolphe escorted the carriage which conveyed the fair sisters to Schloss Sehwanberg, and then proceeded with his friend upon their proposed expedition. Having paid their smiling compliments to the gracious baron, FAMILY PEIDE. 273 the ladies repaired with Gertrude to the library, where a portfolio of new caricatures, just arrived from Paris, promised to afford them considerable amusement. Arabella beguiled an hour or so in laughing over these pictorial epigrams, in running her dainty fingers over the keys of the pianoforte, and then in looking at the backs of sundry volumes with as scrutinizing a glance as if she really wanted to ascertain their contents. Having performed this ceremony, which she very cleverly felt to be appropriate to the place she was in, she suddenly exclaimed, *' "Where is your dear father, Gertrude ? " *' In the breakfast-parlour, I believe," replied Gertrude. " The newspaper is always. taken to him there." "Then it is there I will go to look for him," returned the beauty. " Perhaps he would like to play a game of backgammon ? I should be delighted to play with him ! " "Shall I take you to him?" returned the well-pleased Ger- trude, whose rapid thoughts immediately suggested the possibility of reading something aloud to Lucy, instead of passing the whole morning in being jocular. Miss Morrison immediately passed her arm under that of her young hostess, in token of assent ; and in this manner they walked together to the breakfast-room, where they found the baron installed in his own particular chair, and with the news- paper on a small table before him ; but it was very decidedly evident that his propensities at that moment were more in favour of dozing than reading. After a most gracious salutation of welcome on the part of the old gentleman, which was quite affectionately received on the part of the young lady, the amiable backgammon proposal was made, and accepted with the best possible grace on both sides. The board was sought, found, and arranged by Gertrude, and then the stately Baron von Schwanberg and the lovely Arabella Morri- son were left tete-d-tete. The lady, certainly, did not apj^ear to know much about the game — but this was of no great consequence ; she blundered, and laughed, and looked beautiful ; while he corrected, and smiled^ and looked benignant. But when this had gone on for one game, and the baron was arranging the board for another, Arabella suddenly extended her hand, and laying it gently on his, to stop his proceedings, she said, with her very sweetest smile, and in her very sweetest accents, " My dear, dear Baron von Schwanberg, tell me candidly 19 274 GEETPirDEJ OE, — have I deceived myself in thinking that you feel kindly to- wards me ? If I have, tell me so candidly ; but if I have not, I will open my whole heart to you, and ask your opinion, and per- haps your assistance, in an affair upon which the happiness of my future life entii'ely depends." The old gentleman answered, as it is to he hoped the majority of old gentlemen would do, under similar circumstances, that there was nothing which would give him greater pleasure than the being able to promote her happiness in any way. *' I was sure that I could not be deceived in you, my dear Sir," returned the beautiful young lady, with her eyes imploringly fixed on his ; ''I was sure that in addressing myself to you, I should find as much kindness of heart as nobleness of feeling . But before I proceed to the matter in which- I am bold enough to hope for your assistance, it is necessary that I should explain to you what my situation in life really is. I am not, like your charming daughter, my. dear Sir — I am not nobly born." This was a fact which the baron was already perfectly aware ; but as his very sincere admiration of her did not in any degree rest upon the antiquity of her race, or even upon the rank of her parentage, he was able to assure her, with the most perfect sin- cerity, that she need feel no scruple in avowing this, for that the really affectionate feelings with which he was disposed to regard her were produced by her own personal merits alone, and could be in no way affected by her pedigree. She seized one of his hands in both hers, and having pressed it affectionately, ventured to impress a kiss upon it. *' "What is there, my dear young lady, that I can do to assist you?" said the gentlemanlike old man, feeling a little embar- rassed. *' I am older than my sister, my dear baron, and yet, as you are aware, I am still unmarried," said Arabella, with a gentle smile. *' Yes, my beautiful Miss Arabella, I am aware of it," returned the baron ; '' and as you have mentioned the subject yourself, I will confess to you that it has been a matter of great surpiise to me." "When you have known me longer, my dear Sir, your sur- prise will be less ; for you will find that it is not in my nature to form hasty attachments, or to be very easily pleased. Quite the contrary, indeed. Few young ladies, I believe, have received as many offers of marriage as I have done. Eut I think that one reason why I am still single, is that I am aware that my fortune is so unusually large that there may be some danger of my falling FAiuiir riiiDE. 275 into the hands of a mere foitime-huntG!\ which I assure you, my dear baron, is no small class in our country." " Indeed, I have heard so, my dear," replied the baron ; " and a young lady cannot be too much commended for being on her guard against so contemptible and unprincipled a set of "wretches." ** Indeed, I have always said so; and I am sui'e I would a gi-eat deal rather die without being married at all, than bestow my wealth upon any such person," returned Arabella, with a look of consummate discretion. ''Eut yet, my dear Sir," she continued, ''now that my younger sister is married, I begin to feel that I want a home of my own ; and though nothing can be more kind and obliging than Count Adolphe, I cannot help feeHng that there is some- thing quite ridiculous in a young lady possessed of a fortune of eighty thousand pounds sterling, having no home of her own." " You are certainly right, my dear," replied the baron, after a pause of some considerable duration, during which his mind was occupied by an attempt to calculate what the yearly amount of income produced by eighty thousand pounds sterling might be ; but this was beyond him. Had he asked his fair companion to solve the problem, she would have done it as correctly as if, instead of being a banker's daughter, she had been a banker herself. "You are certainly right," he repeated, after this pause; " and any thing which it is in my power to do towards making so desirable an arrangement, you may most freely command." ^ Arabella thanked him by bestowing another gentle kiss upon his noble hand, not aware that what she intended as a mark of tender and familiar affection, he would interpret as a symptom of profound respect, arising from the imposing difference between her pedigree and his own. ^ Of such a misconstruction, however, she had not the least sus- picion, and had even thrown somewhat of condescension into the expression of her charming eyes, to prevent the poor dear old gentleman from thinking he was a bore. But this little bit of bye-play being performed, she determined to trifle no longer, but to get over the ground, which, even in her eyes, had some awkward points, as rapidly as possible. "After what I have already said," she resumed, "you will probably not be greatly surprised to hear that my choice is already made." Had not the young lady kissed his hand after the manner and 19—2 276 GERTRUDE; OR, fashion of his domestic servants, both male and female, the Baron von Schwanberg might at this moment have experienced a pain- ful feeling of alarm, lest his own name should be pronounced by the fair islander's rosy lips ; her beautiful and very graceful re- spect for him had, however, been too decidedly demonstrated to justify such fear, and he, therefore, ventured to encourage her by saying, '' Go on, my dear! Be very sure that you will find an indulgent listener in me." Thus encouraged, the beautiful Arabella clasped her hands to- gether, and then raising them as if to hide her blushing face, she murmured the name of " Rupert Odenthal! " For a few seconds the baron sat silently looking at her ; and she began to feel that he was too much shocked by the inequality of rank between herself and the Apollo of his library, to listen to her favourably, notwithstanding all the coaxing she had bestowed upon him. But this painful state of mind did not last long. A very few minutes had sufficed to suggest to the baron the cause and source of the fascination which had made a beautiful young lady pos- sessed of eighty thousand pounds sterling, fall in love with his librarian. It was not very often that the intellectual workings of the baron's brain were of so active a nature as to break forth in soliloquy, but such was the case on the present occasion, for though his eyes were fixed on his fair companion as he spoke, it was with himself he held parley, and not with her. "Most extraordinary! Most extraordinary indeed !" he ex- claimed. " Gertrude will comprehend the whole affair in a moment ! " Arabella was a good deal bewildered, and a good deal disturbed, by this allusion to the young baroness. Why should she be able to comprehend the whole affair more than anyone else ? Though they were apparently on very friendly terms together, she very particularly disliked Gertrude ; and she was, perhaps, the very last person in the world to whom she would have wished any reference to be made on the subject of her oAvn attachment. Under the influence of these feelings, she exclaimed, *' Oh goodness, Sir ! Do not say anything about it to your daughter." The French of Arabella was sufficiently intelligible, though her accent was not very pure ; and the baron was at no loss to perceive that the idea of letting Gertrude into her confidence was by no means agreeable to her. *' You mistake me, my dear young lady!" said, he, very FA^JILT PEIDE. 277 gi'acioiTsly. '' Of course, I should never think of communicating to anybody, what you have confidentially confided to me. My allusion to my daughter, had reference to a totally difi'erent sub- ject. Yet, nevertheless, it is a subject which must naturally be interesting to you, and I will explain the matter to you as shortly as I can, my dear young lady. This fortunate and very exoellent young man, whom your admirable judgment has led you to dis- tinguish in so generous and flattering a manner, was really little more than a peasant boy, before accident introduced him to my notice, in a manner which induced me to permit his introduction into my family in the capacity in which you now see him. But it was not to that introduction, but to its efi'ect upon him, to which I alluded, when I pronounced the word extraordinary/. I really find nothing, in all my experience, more extraordinary than the efi'ect which his daily association with me has had upon him, and, indeed, upon his excellent mother likewise. This efi'ect was first made evident to me, Miss Arabella, by the sort of notice which was taken of them both, by all the most dis- tinguished members of the society to which they were introduced, when I attached them to me as a part of my suite. At first, the tone of equality upon which they appeared to be received, sui'- prised me a good deal ; but after my daughter, the Baroness Ger- trude, and myself took the trouble of examining the real state of the case, it soon became very clearly evident to us both, that the station which it has pleased Providence I should hold in society, is one of sufficient dignity and importance to enable me to elevate those whom I permit to associate with me, and that I am, in like manner as my sovereign is in a still higher degree, the source of honour to those around me." Ha^dng said this in the most meek and modest tone possible, and with the aspect of humble piety with which pre-eminently religious people express their submission to Providence when specially exerted for themselves, the baron fixed his eyes upon the ground, and remained silent, as if in the holy recimllement of thanksgiving. During this picturesque interval, Arabella remained silent also, for she was puzzled. Had the baron hinted that he paid to Eupert and his mother such an annual income as enabled them to live *' like gentlefolks,''^ she would have understood him considerably better, and have thought that the statement accounted very satisfactorily for the position which they appeared to hold; but having given a moment, in vain, to the finding out what he meant, she gave up 278 GEETErcE; oe, the attempt, and the next words she uttered were, " "Well, then, my dear Sir, you will be kind enough, will you, as you have been so much like a father to the young man, to continue in the same friendly way with him still, and make him understand, in the manner that these sort of things are managed here, that in addition to all the other favours you have conferred upon him, you have found him a wife with a fortune of eighty thousand pounds sterling ? " In justice to the intellect, of Miss Arabella Morrison, it must be confessed that no young lady upon her travels could have turned the information she acquired respecting men and mannerA more practically to account, than she did upon the present oc- casion. Ha^dng been very gravely assured that it was the con- tinental fashion for the friends of the parties concerned to arrange all marriages, without any apparent interference whatever on the part of the lady (all love-making between people of fashion being performed afterwards), she certainly showed very considerable cleverness in having recourse to the baron, whose interference, she thought, would give both dignity and authority to the pro- posal. As to the result of the negotiation, no thought in the slightest degree approaching to doubt annoyed her for a moment. She had been so long accustomed to hear herself called an angel, that she very sincerely took it for gi'anted that she must be very like one ; and when it is remembered that, in addition to this, she was cheered by the ever-present recollection of her eighty thousand pounds sterling, it may easily be believed that she contemplated the happiest termination to this well- arranged affair. The shy reserve which she could not but perceive in the manner of Eupert, she attributed wholly to his humility ; and she very delicately stated this to her venerable confidant, adding, with a bewitching smile, that she trusted to his influence for the remedy to this. '' And your trust shall not be in vain, my dear Miss Arabella," he replied. ** "We should both of us have reason to be much less satisfied with the young man than we are at present, if his con- duct had been at all different. When I have spoken to him in the manner which I am now authorised to do, you may be very sure my dear, that this painful reserve will vanish." *' Yes, I hope it will ! " she replied, with a degree of iia'ivete, which must have produced a smile on any face less sublimely solemn than that of the Baron von Schwanberg. As it was, however, the important interyiov/ proceeded without any such indecorum, and before they parted, it was settled be- tween them, that the young man shoukl receive an intimation of the happiness which awaited him on the following day. *' And after this intimation has reached him," added the old gentleman, W'ith a very gallant bow, " my office will be over, and the happy young man, as we may easily believe, will become his own advocate." "Yes, I hope so!" again murmured Arabella; and then the backgammon-board was restored to its place, and the beautiful Arabella returned to the library. CHAPTER XLII. On the following morning the baron condescendingly laid his hand on the arm of his secretary, as he was about to leave the breakfast-room. " I have something to communicate to you, my young friend," said he, in his most gracious manner, " so you must leave my books to take care of themselves for a little while. Reseat yourself, Rupert, reseat yourself." Rupert obeyed. " I think you cannot doubt, my good Rupert," resumed the stately old man, " that I take a very great, I may say a very affectionate interest in everything which concerns you." Rupert bowed with an air of deep respect, and replied, " In- deed, Sir, I believe it." " Then you will believe also, my good friend, that it is with great pleasure I announce to you a piece of good fortune which almost any young man might welcome with joy, and which you, iny good Rupert, cannot fail to receive not only with joy, but with the deepest gratitude. I am commissioned by an individual, against whose wishes in the business there can be no appeal, to inform you, that the fair hand of Miss Arabella Morrison, to- gether with her vast fortune of eighty thousand pounds sterling, are blessings not beyond your reach, however much they may have been hitherto beyond your hopes." The complexion of Rupert became crimson, which caused the bftron to ^milp and ijod npTirovirifily. 280 GEETrtUDE; oe, a Yon are overpowered, my good lad ! and it is very natural tliat you should be so. Jjut you must recover yourself. I shall not have executed the commission with which I have been in- trusted in a satisfactory manner, if I can only report as the result of it, that you coloured Aiolently, and looked very greatly em- barrassed." This was said with a smile, and, considering the solemn dig- nity of the features which produced it, a gay smile. But no answering smile greeted him. Poor Kupert was not only embar- rassed, but deeply pained. He fancied that he understood the Avhole business completely, and that the extremely unwelcome intimation he had now received had come from his friend Adolphe. The fact that the friends had never discussed together either the good or the bad qualities of the lady, rendered this less im- probable than it would have been, if either of them had freely expressed his opinion of her to the other. Her beauty and her wealth were obvious facts and obvious advantages ; and even in the first very painful moment of em- barrassment, and almost of dismay, occasioned by the baron's communication, E,upcrt felt a movement of affection towards his strongly-suspected friend, as he remembered that it was probably the wish of being brought into closer connection with him, which had led to this deplorable blunder. His reply, however, being evidently waited for with impatience, must be given immediately ; and making a strong effort to re- cover the composure which had been so painfully shaken, he said, " I trust, my lord baron, that the sincerity with which it is my duty to answer this proposal will not displease you ; but not even the fear of doing so must deter me from saying at once, and most decidedly, that the lady in question has not inspired me with any feeling which could lead me to make her my wife." If the unlucky Rupert had studied for a month in order to find the mode of expression likely to be most offensive to his patron, he could not have produced a more vehement feeling of indig- nation. The old gentleman was for a moment absolutely breathless ; but no sooner had he recovered the power of speech, than he poured fortli an absolute torrent of mingled contempt and anger. The situation of the young man was at once too ridiculous and too painful to be endured ; and accustomed, as for many years he had been, to the pompous assumption of superiority which formed the staple commodity of all the baron's harangues, he waa FAMILY PEIDE. 281 too mucli chafed and vexed at that moment to endure it ; and exclaiming, in an accent of more suffering than ceremony, " Ex- cuse me, Sir, excuse me ! " he left the room. That the old gentleman's predominating feeling at the moment Avas that of anger agaiust his unlucky secretary, is certain ; but as he set himself to reflect upon the next step he had to make in the performance of the extremely disagreeable commission he had undertaken, the idea of having to announce to his petted favourite, the beautiful Arabella, that the offer of her lovely self, and her eighty thousand pounds sterling, had been refused by his penniless secretary in the most decided manner possible, perfectly over- whelmed him. How could he do it ? how was he to pronounce the words necessary to convey this insulting truth ? He ! he who had never uttered an uncivil word to any lady in his life ! It is highly probable that in the course of this long life he had never had so harassing an affair to discuss with a lady before in any way ; and the more he thought of it, the more intolerably disagreeable it became. At length his spirits sunk so completely under the idea of what was before him, that he suddenly resolved to escape it, by commissioning his daughter to perform the task for him. He felt, indeed, that there certainly were some objections to thrusting his daughter into the secret confidence of the beautiful Arabella (especially as that young lady had particularly objected to any- thing of the kind) ; but every consideration gave way before the dreadful idea of having to face the beautiful Miss Arabella under such circumstances ; and having finally made up his mind that Gertrude was really and truly the most proper person to perform this terrible ofice — because Gertrude always did know how to do everything a great deal better than anybody else — he set off to look for her in the library, fully determined that if he did not find her there, he would follow her into her own room, or even into that of Madame Odenthal, rather than not relieve himself of the heavy burthen which so grievously tormented him. Fortunately, however, Gertrude was in the library, and so was Madame Odenthal likewise. The reason for this departure from her recently-arranged manner of passing her mornings was, that she was expecting the arrival of Lucy ; it having been agreed between them when they parted the preceding night, that she should retuim in the morning, for the purpose of finishing the perusal of a newly-arrived English novel that they had been reading aloud to each other. Pvupert also was in the room. On leaving the presence of the 282 GErtTETJDE; OE, angry baix)n, he had naturally betaken himself to his usual resort, and had already seated himself in his accustomed nook in the recess of a large how- window, before he became aware that Ger- trude and his mother were in the room. They had recently parted at the breakfast-table, and no salutation was exchanged between them, save a slight bow ; but as the new arrangement respecting the solitary occupation of the room by Rupert had been only tacitly established, they neither of them thought it necessary to retreat, and each of the trio very quietly addressed themselves to their respective occupations. But this delusive tranquillity was of very shoii; endurance ; for scarcely had they all placed themselves in the position they intended to occupy, than the door of the room was thrown open with considerable violence, and the Earon von Schwanberg entered. Gertnide looked up, and greeted him with a smile ; Madame Odenthal respectfully bowed her head ; but Rupert rose from his seat, and seemed uncertain whether to stay or go. *'Soh! you have taken refuge here, have you? Base, un- grateful boy ! But I think that you will not dare to tell this young lady of your most insolent and infamous conduct ! " Such were the words with which the furious old gentleman assailed the startled ears of his daughter, her greatly shocked dame de comjjagnie, and the very indignant, but at the same time very miserable, Rupert. Gertrude was the only one of the trio who appeared to retain the faculty of speech ; but she felt extremely indignant as well as astonished, and with a degi'ee of spirit which she might not have displayed if she had herself been the person who had offended, she rose, and with a rapid step approaching her father, she laid her hand upon his arm, and said, " My dear father, you are usiug language which I am quite sure you will be sorry for when- you recover your composuiT. Though I know nothing as to the cause of this vehement agitation, I will venture to say that you are in some way or other mistaken. Rupert Odenthal cannot possibly have deserved the words you have addressed to him. He is neither base nor ungi-ateful." *' IN'ot base ! not ungrateful ! " returned the baron, vehemently. ** I have the very highest opinion of your judgment. Baroness Gertrude, but even you cannot form any accurate judgment con- cerning circumstances of which you are ignorant. Listen to what I have to tell you, Gertrude, and then you will find that upon this occasion, as iipon every other, our opiuiongi and IcyiiD^rs^ FAMILY PRIDE. 283 arc exactly the same. I pity his rcry worthy and unhappy mother with all my heart ; hut nevertheless, she must submit to hear what it is absolutely necessary she should know, because I am not without hope that she may be able to make this very in- solent young man repent, and reform his conduct." This long speech, which was delivered with as much solemnity as indignation, was followed by a short pause, more solemn still ; and then raising his right hand, and pointing with its fore-iinger to the desperately embarrassed Eupert, the baron thus resumed : *' That young man, Gertrude, has this day received the noblest proof of generous and devoted attachment that ever was bestowed upon a man. And how, think you, he has requited this ? It has been requited by the deepest ingratitude, and the most bitter insult ! But it is not by merely saying this, Gertrude, that I can give you a full and true idea of what his conduct has been .... it is absolutely necessary that I should state the particulars. This very presumptuous and most ungrateful young man has had the insolence to refuse the hand of that very beautiful and amiable young lady, the sister of the Countess Adolphe Steinfeld." " Depend upon it, my lord baron," interposed Madame Oden- thal, eagerly, " there has been some mistake, — some foolish joke, perhaps. I am quite sure. Sir, that nothing approaching such a subject has ever passed between them." The baron turned towards her with a grim smile and mocking bow. " I should have thought that you must have known me long enough by this time, Madame Odenthal, to be aware that I never mistake," he said. " In the present case, the proof that I have not committed the very vulgar offence of blundering, is sufficiently clear, I presume, to satisfy even you. The amiable, lovely, and most generous young lady who has been thus un- worthily treated by your ungrateful, and, I must say, very in- solent son, has herself confided to me the secret of her noble and most generous affection for him. I presume you will confess there can be no mistake, when I tell you that she commissioned me to give your son the (doubtless unhoped-for) intelligence that she was willing to bestow upon him her hand in marriage. And what think you, madam, was the reply I received from your penniless son to this offer of a lovely bride, with a fortune of eighty thousand pounds sterling ? The offer, too, being conveyed by ME. The answer, madam, was distinctly this ; that he declined the inopoml. You still look incredulous, Madame Odenthal. Let me refer you then to the insolent young man himself." 284 geeteude; oe, As lie uttcrecl these last words, the baron waved his hand majestically towards the offender, and then dropped into a chair with an air of mingled contempt and indignation. AYhy, or how, it came to jmss that the eyes of E-npert and Gertrude met at that critical moment, for the first time since this extraordinary scene began, it is difficult to say. So it was, how- ever ; and thereupon the words of Claudio may be aptly quoted. He was quite right when he said, " Let every eye negotiate for itself, and trust no agent." It might have been long, yea, very long, before the well- guarded secret of their respective hearts had been guessed at by either, had it not been for the gleam of light which seemed to fiash at that moment both from, and to, the eyes of both. CHAPTER XLIII. Gerteude had changed colour so vehemently, and at the last change had become so suddenly pale, that the watchful Madame Odenthal became seriously alarmed for her ; and with less of ceremony than she generally used when the baron was present, she left her j^lace, threw a sustaining arm round Gertrude, and led her from the room. " You see, young man, the light in which your conduct is con- sidered by my daughter," said the baron, solemnly ; " it is evident that she is shocked, very deeply shocked, by your con- duct. Let me hope that the high respect which I cannot doubt you feel for her, will induce you to conduct yourself in this matter with more propriety than you seemed disposed to do when you first answered me." Eupert, who, in fact, scarcely heard what he said, replied by bowing his head, and mechanically saying, " Yes, Sir." " Very well, that is just as it ought to be, Rupert," returned the baron, very greatly relieved. " In the present state of affairs, by far the best arrangement will be, that you and your good and very condescending friend, Count Adolphe, should talk the matter over between you. Perhaps, my good Rupert, I was more displeased with you than you deserved, for it has just oc- curred to me, as very probable, that you might have thought FAJIILY PRIDE. 285 your acceptance of this generous yonng lady's proposal might have been displeasing to me, as tending to lessen the distance which ought for ever to remain impassable between persons in different stations of life ; and I will not deny, that if such be the case, you ought, by no means, to be too severely blamed for your refusal. In short, Eupert, it strikes me that it will, for very many reasons, be much better than you should talk over this affair confidentially with your good friend, Count Adolphe, than that I should interfere any further in the business. And it may be as well, my good lad, that you should hint to him that I shall greatly prefer his speaking to his sister-in-law on the subject, to my interfering any further with so very delicate an affair." How much of this speech was either heard or understood by Eupert, it might be difficult to say ; for again his only reply was, ''Yes, Sir." But this answer, such as it was, appeared perfectly to satisfy his patron, who, no longer under the influence of the beautiful Ai'abella's winning ways, began to see, in the very decided, not to say vehement, repugnance of Eupert to the proposal made him, more of prudence than he had himself manifested on the subject ; for no sooner had he named the young Count as the most proper negotiator in the affair, than the idea that such a marriage must be extremely disagreeable to him, and to his noble family, oc- curred to him ; so that on leaving the library (which he had entered with the decided intention of turning Eupert out of the house) he felt more disposed to favour him than ever, from the conviction, that his dread of offending him by for a moment forgetting his own inferiority, had been the real cause of his refusal. And Eupert, too, if his thoughts could truly be described as being occupied by anything but Gertrude, was meditating an im- mediate interview with Adolphe. As to the beautiful Arabella, he certainly gave her credit for every possible degree of absurdity, and of fancying that she was in love with him, and he in love with her, among the rest. But such thoughts occupied him scarcely for an instant, nor did he deem it possible that the notion of a marriage between them had originated with her, and it was to Adolphe to whom he attributed this preposterous scheme. He knew, and he knew with sincere pleasure, that this true and faithful friend was more than satisfied ; he knew that he was happy in the choice he had made of the pretty, sweet- tempered Lucy ; but he knew also that Adolphe' s attachment to himself had never changed from the fii^st hour of their boyish 286 geeteude; oe, compauionsliip to the present time, and he could, therefore, easily understand the possibility of his wishing for such a family con- nection between them as might, in a great degree, insure theipj never being long asunder. Yet still it was difficult for him to comprehend how it was] possible that Adolphe could so little appreciate his real character, as to believe him capable of uniting himself for life with such a woman as Arabella Morrison. But, notwithstanding this puzzling incongruity, it was upon Adolphe that his suspicion rested, and it was to Adolphe that he determined to address himself, for the purpose of being extricated from this very ridiculous dilemma. jSTo sooner, therefore, did he cease to hear the departing foot- steps of his massive patron, than he rushed from the library to the stables, and startled the tranquil steadiness of the Geraian grooms, by his vehement demand for '' a horse ! a horse ! " with- out a moment's delay. Eupert was well beloved, and his vehemence was only gi-eeted by a smile, while as little delay as possible was permitted to occur before he was in the saddle and galloping rapidly towards the friend whom he intended so very heartily to scold. All this was business-lilie and rational ; yet, nevertheless, although he set his horse's head in the right direction, and took care to keep it so, his own head was unceasingly running back to Gertrude, and to the strange and inexplicable expression of her face at the moment their eyes met. But it was in vain that he meditated upon it — and in vain that he strove to forget it ; so that the business, by no means very pleasant in itself, upon which his rapid movements proved him to be so earnestly bent, was literally half-forgotten before he reached the presence of his friend. Luckily for the dispatch of this very important business, how- ever, he found Count Adolphe alone, in the snug little room which was appropriated to the especial use of himself, his books, his cigar, and occasionally of his little wife also. " Welcome, dear Eupert ! " said Adolphe, cordially, and with an extended hand. Eupert looked at him for a moment without accepting this ever- cordial hand. He seized upon it at last, however, and grasping it in his own, he exclaimed : ' ' Adolphe ! I thought my heart was as open to you as this kind hand has ever been to me. . . . But it is not so, it seems, for you have most lamentably mistaken me ! " FAIIILY PEIDE. 287 ''As how, my dear fellow?" replied the Count, looking ex- ceedingly puzzled. " I should be sorry to have mistaken you, Ilupert," he continued, "because it is a positive fact, that 1 think so highly of you as to make it impossible I should change my opinion, without your losing something in my esteem. I hope it will not be much, Kupcrt ! Eut go on and state the case. In what have I mistaken you ? " Rupert looked earnestly at him for a moment, as if to discover if there were any jest afoot ; a solution which would not much have mended the matter, considering that his august patron, the baron, was one of the parties concerned in it. * ' Speak ! Explain yourself, Eupert 1 ' ' again exclaimed Adolphe, impatiently. "How is it possible, Adolphe," replied Eupert, gently, but^ very gravely, " how can it have been possible that you, who know me so well, should so greatly have mistaken me ? " "In what have I mistaken you, my good friend," returned the Count Adolphe, with a good-humoui^d smile. " I declare to you, that, with the exception of your mother, I think I am less likely to mistake you than any living mortal," " And I should have thought so too," said Eupert, shaking his head, "if I had not just had such very painful proof of the con- trary. How could you for a single moment persuade yourself that I could be tempted by my poverty to become the husband of Miss Morrison ? " "But you give me credit for having much greater power of persuasion over myself than I really possess," returned Adolphe, laughing. "I should as soon have thought," he added, "of persuading myself to marry her, instead of Lucy, for the sake of her extra thousands sterling." " Then this preposterous idea had not its origin with you ? " said Eupert, extending a hand of reconciliation towards his friend. " It is a proof that I am of a very forgiving nature," returned Adolphe, as he gave the offered hand a friendly grasp ; " that I should so readily, and without any explanation too, accept this repentant fist of yours. Eut even now, I feel a good deal dis- posed to make a quarrel of it. How dare you, young Sir, accuse me in your heart of such a vast amount of witless wickedness, as would be required in order to conceive such an idea? " "Forgive me, Adolphe I I feel that you really have some- thing to forgive," returned Eupert. "I ought not, even for a moment, to have believed it possible. And yet, when I was told 288 geeteude; or, that such a marriage had been suggested, and had been consented to by the young lady in question, how could I help falling into this error ? No one knoAvs so well as yourself my dependent condition, Adolphe ; and I certainly believe that there is no one who would be more glad to change it, if it were possible. But I certainly was greatly annoyed when I fancied that you had hit u2:)on such a means for achieving it." ' ' "Well, Eupert, I forgive you, which goes further to prove my excessive amiability, than your innocence. I wonder now," he continued, laughing, " whether you would have galloped over in the same state of furious indignation in order to quarrel with my wife, if you had happened to find out that within the last twenty- four hours she has actually been committing the sin for which vou have been accusing me ? " "Do you mean. Count Adolphe," returned Eupert, looking greatly distressed, "that your charming wife was the person who wished to bring about a marriage between her sister and myself?" " "Whether she ever wished this or not, I will not pretend to say. She likes you very much, and might, perhaps, have been vastly well pleased to have had you for a brother ; but if any such ridiculous project ever entered her head, she had not courage sufficient to mention it to me. jSTo. Her active imagination has been employing itself in another direction. But for anything I know, my dear Eupert, this may put you in as furious a rage as the other ; for I well remember the time when you declared that a middle-aged matron on one side, and a young rustic, with a pitcher on her head, on the other, were both, or either of them, infinitely more attractive than the lady in question." It really seemed as if this day had been set apart in the calendar, as the epoch at which poor Eupert Odenthal's equa- nimity was to be tried in almost every possible manner. The words so lightly spoken by his friend, produced a degree of agitation both in heart and head, which it reauired a verv strong effort to conceal ; but the effort was made, and not in vain. "Where fortitude and self-command are imperatively called for, from such a man as Eupert Odenthal, they are rarely found wanting. " May I ask you to explain yourself?" said Eupert, quietly. " Yes, you may," replied his friend, with the same tone of unsuspicious gaiety with which he had began the subject ; " and I will answer you, too, if you will promise not to shoot me, by way of punishing the impertinence of my wife ; f^bs actually FAMILY PKTDE. 289 offered me a bet the other day, with very long odds in my favour too, that you would be married to the Baroness Gertrude von Schwanberg before two years were over. Before I took the bet, however, I was generous enough to tell her that she was taking a leap in the dark, and that I was not ; for that I happened to know, from the very best possible authority, that the Baroness Gertrude's style of beauty did not please your fancy." '' Such an assurance must have been sufficient, I should think, to convince the fair lady that she was wrong," replied Rupert, with a very masterly command of voice. " Not a bit! " returned Adolphe, laughing ; " my wife is the most resolute little creature I ever knew. Her only answer was, ' AVill you take the bet, Adolphe ? Ten English sovereigns against ten German thalers.' Excessively obstinate of the little creature, was it not ? " " The Countess Adolphe looks upon sovereigns as we do upon counters," replied Eupert, with a somewhat unmeaning smile. ''No! that is not the right explanation, Rupert. English ladies, both young and old, know the value of sovereigns per- fectly well. But the best part of the joke is, that with all the confidence she expresses about winning her bet, she declares that the love is altogether on the lady's side, and that, as yet, you are perfectly heart-whole. But she is, in truth, a most enthusiastic admirer of the Countess Gertrude, ten times more so than ever I was in my tenderest days, before I was choked with the Gotha Almanack ; and she predicts that, despite the nymph of the fountain, and the middle-aged lady before mentioned, your hard heart will be melted at last, and that you will return her tender passion." The very respectable degree of composure with which this prophecy was listened to, did Rupert Odenthal great credit ; the only symptom he gave of not being in a state of perfect self- possession, was his attempting to take his leave immediately, without saying another word concerning the important business which had brought him there. Eortunately, however, Count Adolphe was less thoughtless. " Do not go, Rupert ! " said he, laughingly detaining him by the arm; "for pity's sake don't leave me without giving me some few instructions as to what is to be done or said to Arabella If I comprehend your modest hints aright, you have received from, by, or with the consent of my rich, fair, and rare, sister-in-law, an intimation that if you are in love with her, 20 290 • gektexide; oe, you will find no reason either to hang or drown yoiu'self. Is this, in sober earnest, the fact ? " " Unless the baron has mistaken her," replied Rupert (looking a good deal provoked at having such an avowal to make), " such is the case." *' And what answer to this delicate intimation do you mean to return ? " *'I wish," replied Eupcrt, very coaxingly, " that the answer could be given in the shape of advice from her friends, without letting her know that I had ever been made acquainted with her generous condescension." " Excellent ! " cried the greatly-amused Adolphe ; *' and may I ask which of her friends you would select to perform this pleasant office ? " " Of course I cannot presume to give such a commission to any one," replied Rupert; "for as the person whom she selected as her ambassador evidently intends to have no more to do with her, there is no one from whom I have any right to ask such a service. But if Madame la Comtessa " "What! My poor dear little wife?" exclaimed Adolphe. "Have you really the cruelty to inflict such a task upon her ? . . . . Why, it must be in revenge, I think, for her having hinted the disagreeable surmise about the Baroness Gertrude, which I mentioned to you just now. Fie, Rupert ! Fie ! " The two young men stood looking at each other for a minute or two, with aspects as strongly contrasted as those of Tragedy and Comedy ; till at length,* the good-natured Adolphe took pity upon his really embarrassed friend, and said, " I cannot look quite so grave as you do about it, my dear Rupert, but the silly girl must be answered in some way. She has a faith absolutely fanatic in the power of her own beauty, and her own wealth ; and I do verily believe that she thinks, in all sincerity, that any man, and every man, would be delighted to marry her, if he could. But, in this particular instance, I have no doubt that still another cause has helped to make a fool of her, and that she has taken this most absurd step in consequence of a conversation which took place among us the other day, respecting the difterent customs which prevail in different countries as to the mode of marrying, and giving in marriage. I observed at the time, that she listened very attentively to my father's statement concerning the manner in which the friends of the parties negotiate the affair for them ; and you may depend upon it, that she thought, FAillLY PPJDE. 291 by employing the superb baron, she was commencing a negoti- ation in the most dignified and approved style possible." **Veiy likely," replied Eiipert, looking very little comforted by this suggestion ; " but it really seems to me as if the baron thought so too." " And if he does, I think you must get the Earoness Gertrude to talk to him," returned Adolphe. '' Her influence over him, you knoTT, is unbounded," he continued; "and if my sharp- witted little wife is right in the notion I have just mentioned to you respecting her, she will be sure of finding some way or other of convincing her noble papa that he must himself j)ut an. ex- tinguisher on the tender passion of my admirable sister-in- law." The kind-hearted Adolphe was one of the last men in the world to say, or to do, what might have given pain to any one ; and so sincerely was he attached to Eupert, that he would willingly have endured much pain himself, rather than inflict it on him. Eut the impression which had been made upon him by the former declaration of his friend, " that he saw no great charm in Ger- trude," was still so fresh in his memory, that it never occurred to him as a thing possible that he could have changed his mind upon the subject. Xor did any such possibility occur to him now. He only saw, in the heightened colour and agitated ex- pression of Eupert's countenance that he was harassed and ill at ease ; and seeing him suddenly preparing to depart, he said, "If you don't wish to see me quarrel outright with this absurd Arabella, you must snap yoiu' fingers at her, Eupert, instead of looking so profoundly miserable. Set your heart at rest, however, as to her doing anything further to annoy you. I did but jest when I exclaimed so loudly against Lucy's having anything to say to her on the subject. Depend upon it, that if we confide to her the task of informing your fair innamorata that her scheme has not answered, it will cause nothing but mirth to Lucy, and a good deal of impotent rage, perhaps, on the part of Arabella. So set your heart at rest, dear Eupert ! If she is likely to be troublesome to any of ns, Lucy shall give her a hint that there is some one dying for love of her, either in Paris, or London, or Jerusalem, and she will immediately discover that the climate of Germany does not agree with her." It was but a languid sort of smile that poor Eupert bestowed upon his friend in return for the pleasant hopes of a speedy re- lease from the beauty which he thus bestowed upon him ; yet, such as they were, they, nevertheless, proved quite sufficient to 20— a 292 GERTRUDE; OR, chase all annoyauce on that score from his memory. It was not upon Arabella Morrison that his thoughts were fixed as he slowly rode hack to Schloss Schwanhcrg. CHAPTEH XLIV. Had the climate in which the said Schloss Schwanherg was situated been suddenly changed either into that of Asia or of Siberia, the effect of the alteration, both upon Eupert and upon Gertrude, would have been very much less than that produced by the sort of glimmering light which the circumstances just related had caused to shine on both of them. So much has already been said explanatory of what their re- spective feelings really were, that there is no need of repeating it here ; and presuming the reader to understand perfectly that they were very devotedly attached to each other, despite the many very strong reasons existing to make such a state of things extremely inconvenient, all that is left for their historian to detail, is the result to which this strangely-assorted attachment eventually led. It was pretty nearly impossible that such a woman as Madame Odenthal, deficient neither in natural acuteness nor natural affec- tion, could long continue unaware of the complete revolution which had taken place in the state of mind, and, as it seemed, in the character of her son. Little as she could ever have wished (reasonable and well- principled as she was) that the hardly-tried yet still-devoted love of the high-born heiress should end in a mutual attachment, it would have been unnatural, not to say impossible, for her not to feel pleasure in witnessing the obvious happiness which had quietly taken the place of the uncomplaining but melancholy re- signation of Gertrude ; while Rupert seemed suddenly endowed with a brilliancy of talent and an energy of character which she had never witnessed in him before, but which it was difficult to witness now without pleasure. Yet these powerful though often -fluctuating feelings were en- tirely confined to her own bosom. The young people had already given sufficient proof of firmness of character, to convince her FAMILY PETDE. 290 that no lecturing of hers could have any effect beyond that of paining them ; and, therefore, after very deliberate consideration of the subject, she determined to let matters take their course ; and, to all outward appearance, the relative position of the parties continued to be exactly the same as it ever had been. Nevertheless, Gertrude had the very great satisfaction of un- derstanding, from a multitude of seemingly trifling circumstances, that this dearly-beloved second mother was aware of the improve- ment which had taken place in the mental condition of her son. He was, in fact, no longer like the same being ; and yet it was only to this mother and Gertrude that his change "was perceptible. To the baron he was, as he always had been, observant, yet unobtrusive ; not appearing under embarrassment or restraint of any kind, yet never passing or forgetting the distance which the difference in rank placed between them. That the baron, therefore, never found out that he was asso- ciating with an individual whom he had never known before, is not extraordinary ; but such was, in truth, the case. jS'ot even to each other, however, did Eupert and Gertrude fully open their hearts upon the subject of the future. They scrupled not to deprecate the reserve which had thrown, for years, so deep a gloom over the hearts of both ; but not even in the unbounded confidence to which such retrospection necessa- rily led, did they either of them venture to prophecy of the future. The reason for this was obvious. As long as the baron lived, the idea of an union between them seemed about equally impos- sible to both ; for Gertrude felt it to be impossible that she should cause her father such pain as this alliance would produce ; while Rupert felt it to be equally impossible that he should urge her to do what it was evident her conscience pronounced to be wrong. Eut the axiom of our French friends has all the truth of philosophy in it — everything is comparative ; and in comparison to the state of mind in which Eupert and Gertrude had passed the last three years of their young lives, their present condition was one of great — of very great happiness. The comic little embarrassment which the tender passion of the beautiful Arabella occasioned to the ungrateful Eupert, was not permitted to have any very great or lasting effect on this new- born happiness; but as the good feelings of Adolphe were soon awakened, notwithstanding the ceaseless jestings of his wife, to the consciousness that they were doing wrong in permitting her to persevere in her absurdity, , he contrived, as gently as he could, 294 ceeteude; on, to make her understand that Enpert Tras not at all a marrying man. On his first nsing this strictly English phrase in speaking of him, Arabella looked at him with great contempt, and replied, *'I don't think, Mr. Count, that you know much about the matter." *'At any rate, my dear Arabella," he replied, '* I think I must know more about him than you can do .... I have known him far more years than you have known him months, my dear." '' That is very possible," she replied ; " but I am a woman, and you are only a man ; and everybody allows, you know, that we women understand all about the heart, a great deal better than you men do." "And what do you think that you have found out respecting the heart of Eupert Odenthal?" returned her brother-in-law. " You have no right to ask me any such question," she replied, with great dignity, adding with another toss of her handsome head; ''and I thank Gocl that there is nobody living who has such a right. However," she continued, "I have no sort of objection to answering you, and I think that I have found out that he would have no sort of objection to marrying me." Count Adolphe felt that this sort of light skirmishing would not effect the purpose he had in view, and, therefore, he very courageously ventm^ed to say, ''My dear Arabella, I think it is my duty to tell you that you are mistaken." 8he coloured violently, but remained silent for a minute or two, and then said, "On whose authority, Sir, do you tell me this?" " It is the opinion of the Baron von Schwanberg, Arabella, and, therefore it is mine .... for he is a great deal too wise a man to be mistaken." This very judicious answer seemed to have great effect, for shd now remained silent for a much longer interval. In fact, she had been waiting with some anxiety for a message from her aged and noble confidant, and not receiving any, concluded, that, from some accident or other, the grand old gentleman had been too constantly engaged to see her in private. Upon hearing her brother-in-law thus gravely assert, however, that this said grand old gentleman did not believe his librarian was inclined to marry her, every feeling of her heart was con- verted into absolute hatred towards the despicable individual, who might be the happiest of men, if he were not an idiot. FAMILY PEIDE. 295 Could she have had the power of condemning this offending individual to immediate destruction, it is extremely likely that, in the frame of mind which she was in at that moment, she would have done it; but as, fortunately, this power was wantiog, she sought the relief of solitude, and having reached her own apart- ment, she locked herseK into it as carefully as if she expected to he besieged. She had not, however, enjoyed this uninterrupted solitude long, before she had very resolutely determined the plan of conduct she should piu'sue. It did not take her long to decide, that the low-born Eupert, notwithstanding his stately figure, and his handsome face, was neither more nor less than a clown and a fool; and as such, she threw all remembrance of him to the winds. In fact, as she very vehemently told herself, he was not worth a thought, and she would not give him one. Eut her ''little vixen of a sister" was not to escape so easily. Arabella felt strongly persuaded that she, and her Dutch husband (as she con- stantly called Adolphe when she was angry with him), had been in some way or other the cause of her noble and most generous feelings ha\ing been so basely requited ; and it took her but a very short time to decide upon the mode of vengeance she would adopt, in order to be revenged. ''They think," she muttered, "that because I am still un- married, I am in want of them, and their precious protection! They think that they are sure of carrying me about with them wherever they go, and of bringing themselves into notice by the brilliant effect which I am always sure to make in society . . . And no bad scheme, either! I will do them the justice to allow that my fortune and my face together, would be likely enough to atone for their own detestable folly and insignificance, if anything could do it. But I will teach them the difference. That giggling idiot, Lucy, has made the most detestable sort of marriage in the world ! A title ! A pretty title, without one atom of style or fashion belonging to it ! They shan't be many months older, before they have both learned to know the difference between my presence and my absence." These muttered meditations were far from being the mere idle ebullitions of transitory disappointment and ill-temper ; on the contrary, they were the result of her deepest feelings, and most resolute purposes. And we may take our final leave of this beau- tiful creature at once, by stating, that by the help of her quick- witted and intriguing little waiting-maid, she contrived to get at 296 geeteude; oe, a groom, wlio spoke French glibly, and took bribes with equal facility and intelligence. By his assistance she managed to convey herself, her wardrobe, her maid, and this said groom (suddenly promoted to the rank of courier), to an obscure exit from the castle court-yard, where her own fine travelling carriage, in which she had made her journey from England, awaited her, and at an hour so early in the morning as to secure her from the embarrassment of encountering any of the noble family of Steinfeld. It was generally supposed that this well-managed elopement had been arranged by some fortunate individual, whom Lucy would be speedily informed had been added to her family con- nections, by way of a brother. Eut Lucy herself knew her half-sister better. "iN'o!" said she, when this very natural surmise was suggested; *'no! Arabella will fall in love a great many more times yet, before she falls into marriage. She has always been very subject to love fits ; but with all her folly in this way, she has always seemed clever enough to get out of an engagement as easily as she got into it ; and I should not wonder, if she went on in the same way for years ! Arabella is certainly very proud of her beauty, and is excessively fond of di^essing herself, and of being told that she is an angel, and that one man after another is dying for her. But take my word for it, Adolphe, she loves her money still more tenderly than she loves her beauty." This harangue, which was very kindly uttered in order to calm the useless activity of her husband (who seemed to think that it was his duty to look after the runaway, and induce her to return to them, if still unmarried), not only produced the effect for which it was spoken, but was often quoted by Adolphe after- wards, as having been perfectly prophetic. The beautiful Arabella had reached the mature age of fifty- three, ere she finally consented to bind herself to one adorer, instead of remaining at liberty to receive the homage of many ; nor did she marry then, without taking excellent good care of her darling money, keeping very nearly the whole of it at her own disposal, and bequeathing it, at last, to a frolicsome young gen- tleman of twenty-two, who assured her, that among his various whims and vagaries, the only one which was really a part of himself, was that which led him to prefer old ladies to young ones. FAMILY PKIDE. 297 CHAPTEPv XLV. But vre must now resume the course of our narrative. The perfect and most happy understanding which, after long years of secrecy and suffering, was at last established between Rupert and Gertrude, for some time appeared perfectly sufficient to content the hearts of both ; and no wonder that it should have been so, for the happiness it had brought to them both was in very bright contrast to the heavy hopeless gloom which had before enveloped them. It had been mutually agreed between them, after a good deal of discussion, that Madame Odenthal should not be made acquainted with the secret of their attachment. This reserve, far from arising from any want of affection on the part of either of them towards this truly friendly mother and motherly friend, was the result of the most tender anxiety for her tranquillity. They both knew her too well, not to feel certain that were she made acquainted with their attachment, she could not fail to be unhappy, whether she kept their secret or betrayed it. Such a confidence must, in fact, have placed her in a most embarrassing position. She was so implicitly trusted by the baron, that, to betray that trust by becoming an approving repository of such a secret, would doom her for ever, in her own eyes quite as much as in his, to the reproach of the very deepest treachery ; while, on the other hand, if she returned their con- fidence, by betraying it to him, she must estrange herself for ever from all that was left her to love on earth. ' All this was so obvious, that it took them not long to decide that neither of them could have any confidant, save the other. ]N"or was there any great difficulty in strictly adhering to this resolution. Eupcrt was quite conscious that he had effectually succeeded hitherto in concealing from his mother all that he wished should be still concealed ; and nothing, therefore, was necessary, but that he should persevere in the same line of conduct which he had so long and so successfully adopted. With Gertrude, indeed, the case was different ; but, neverthe- less, the difficulty was not much greater ; for though the suffering girl had often been conscious that Madame Odenthal suspected 298 GEiiTErDE; or, her cittaclimcnt — an idea which she chiefly denvecl, perhaps, from the fact of lliipert never being made the subject of conversation between them — the habit of silence concerning him, when they were tete-a-tete together, was sufficiently established to prevent any feeling of embarrassment from being created by its careful continuance. Por several months after the long- delayed explanation took place, by which the mutual affection of these dangerously-placed young people was made known to each other, they both thought that they had attained a degree of happiness which greatly exceeded what usually falls to the lot of human beings during this imperfect stage of their existence. Little or nothing was changed in their usual manner of exist- ence; yet each day, and almost each hour of the day, seemed bright with new happiness. Had they never known the dreary misery of loving, without daring to hope, almost without daring to wish for a return, they would not now have enjoyed the fulness of happiness which seemed to awaken them into a new state of existence. The very secrecy of this happiness seemed to increase its inten- sity. The sentiment which each was so delightfully conscious was reflected in the heart of the other, could not, they were quite certain, be understood by any but themselves ; and, there- fore, its being suspected by none, was a blessing inexpressibly precious. The daily routine of their lives (totally as they were actually changed) seemed to go on without any variation; and, in fact, the very sharpest eye could have detected no alteration but one. On returning from Paris, Gertrude had very discreetly made a law respecting the disposition of her time, which, according to the long-established habits of Eupert, prevented their ever occupying themselves in the garden at the same hour of the day. But . this prudent regulation existed no longer ; and they pruned trees, picked off dead leaves, and removed fading blossoms very often side by side, and even occasionally walked together from one end of the long shrubbery avenue to the other, without any qualms of conscience interfering on either side to prevent them. It was during this very happy interval that the superb Arabella withdrew herself from the neighbourhood ; and although her doing so was very decidedly a domestic blessing to her sister, and by no means very much regretted even by her sister's good- natured husband, the suddenness of her retreat, as well as the FA^HLY PEIDE. 299 mysterious mauner of it, led to more gossiping in the ncigliboiir- hood than they cither of them liked io encounter ; and it was, therefore, sjjeedily decided between them, that the wisest thing they could do, would be to see a little more of the world ; the gay little Lucy assuring her husband that, after she had seen Paris and Vienna, and enjoyed a little dissipation at both, she should be ready to come home, and be quiet for the rest of her life. Schloss Schwanberg relapsed again, and very speedily, into its former stately stillness after their departure. ISo more beautiful young ladies arrived to persuade the baron that he was still a most fascinating old gentleman ; and the conclusion of his acquaintance with the fair Arabella, had annoyed him too severely to leave him with either courage or inclination to repeat the experiment of making himself agreeable. All this was extremely favourable to the establishment of such a mode of life as Gertrude now looked forward to as the greatest happiness within her reach ; and, in truth, so great was the happi- ness it brought, when compared with the misery she had long endured, that her enjoyment of it almost made her forget that she might be happier still. The health of her father was excellent, for he, too, felt that the life he was now leading, suited him vastly better than either the brilliant splendours of Paris or the flattering fatigue of becoming the confidential friend of a beautiful Arabella. To the final adventure, however, with that young lady, he never alluded. The reason for which, probably, being that, even he, would have found it impossible to discuss it with the clegTee of solemn dignity which ought to belong to everything in which he bore a part. It was becoming veiy evident, also, to an eye as observant of his likings and dislikings as that of Gertrude, that he was growing every day more attached to his own arm-chair, and more reluctant to leave it. He had married so late in life, that, young as his daughter still was, he was an old man ; and the habits of his whole life having been uniformly self-indulgent, he felt more disposed, than his still excellent health rendered necessary, to yield to these unsocial propensities. It would be doing the excellent Gertrude much less than justice to suppose that she would have been likely, under any circumstances, to have resisted his daily increasing attachment to the stately solitude of his own abode, in order to procure amuse- ment for herself elsewhere ; but, as it happened, this very quiet and retired mode of life was precisely what she would have 300 geeteijde; or, arranged for herself had her own enjoyment been the only object she had in view ; and it -would be difficult, perhaps, to imagine a situation in which lovers so imperatively separated by circum- stances in one direction, could be so propitiously situated in another. That there was a good deal of sympathy between the character of Eupert and that of Gertrude, in some respects, cannot be doubted. They could scarcely have loved each other so devotedly, had it been otherwise ; but, had there been more still, they would have contemplated the happiness of their present condition with a greater equality of contentment. The nature of Gertrude was as gentle as it was finn. During that most miserable period of her life which she had passed in Paris, even while believing it to be her duty to place herself in a condition more miserable still, the sweet gentleness of her temper had never given way. IN'ot even Madame Odenthal, through all the dismal hours of that most wretched winter, so many of which had been passed by her tetc-d-tete with poor Gertrude, had ever seen her give way to melancholy, or beheld her charming coun- tenance disfigured by an aspect of discontent. There had been, even then, through all the varied sorrows which pressed so heavily on her young heart, a patient sweetness, that had no mixture of complaint in its expression. And the same gentle philosophy might easily be recognised in her aspect now. While thankfully blessing the happy change from the anguish of thinking that she was doomed to pass her life in loving one who would never love her in return, she showed no symptom of lamenting that she was not happier still. jS'or was there the least mixture of affectation in this ; she really was as contented, and happy as she appeared to be. Her first thought on waking was one of joy, for it brought the assurance of passing many hours of the coming day with Eupcrt, and the dearer assurance still, that Eupert loved her. And when she laid her head upon her pillow at night, the remembrance of that precious love, which had been seen by her, though by no one else, through every hour of the happy day, was the theme of her last waking thought. But, alas ! the case was widely different with E-upert. iN'o sense of filial duty, no tender feeling of filial love, softened his heart, and enabled him to bear with the like resignation the dreadful impossibility of making the admirable creature, who so tenderly returned his love, the wife of his bosom, and the assured companion of his life. PASIILY PRIDE. 301 He vainly pleaded to her, in the words of his own English church, ''Those whom God has joined together, let no man put asunder." She could only shake her head, and say, " 'No Eupert ! no ! Those Avords cannot be applied to us ! It cannot be the will of God that I should wound my father to the heart, and perhaps shorten his days, in order to ensiure my own happiness. He gave me my life, dear Eupert, before you saved it. The first duty which heaven appoints us to perform, is that which Ave owe our parents. Let me not fail in that, for if I did, you would no longer see in me the same creature whom you have so long and faithfully loved. If I saw you do what would most deeply pain your mother, Eupert, should I still love you as perfectly as I do now ? I do not think it." And Eupert, to do him justice, did not listen to such language as this without feeling the deference it deserved ; and that, in truth, was much, for it was the outpouring of a most true, pure, and loving heart. Eut the being very fully aware that it Avas so, did not greatly improve his condition, or lessen his regret at feeling that she could not, and ought not, be his. This state of things went on, with little or no variation, for above a year, during which time poor Gertrude would really have been very happy, if the state of Eupert would have permitted her to be so. Eut this he could not, or, at any rate, he did not do. He Avas certainly not himself at all aware how much pain his languid eye, his unelastic step, and the evidently depressed state of his spirits, occasioned her, or he would not have suffered these painful symptoms to be so very visible. Yet, not even the seeing all this, could for a moment shake her resolute determina- tion,' that her father should not be made the victim of his unbounded confidence in her. It is true, that her firm spirit would sometimes droop, when meditating on the hapless obstacles which kept them asander ; but all this resolute firmness of spirit returned, when she remem- bered that the bare mention of such an union as that which could alone ensure Eupert' s happiness, would not only utterly, and as long as life Avas spared him, destroy his, but that the shock which such a proposal would occasion, might shorten the life which for so many years had been wholly occupied in loAdng, cherishing, and indulging her. It so chanced that Eupert one day entered the library while she was sitting there alone, and weeping bitterly, as she meditated on the perversity of a destiny which only left her the poAver of choosing between the misery of dooming the man she loA'ed to 302 GEniErDE; oe, the dreary, lingerinp; suffering of a hopeless attachment, and that of endangering the life of her doting father, by stabbing him to the heart in the point where she knew him to be most sus- ceptible. When Eupert questioned her as to the cause of this vehement burst of feeling, she only begged him to forgive her weakness, without insisting upon her explaining the cause of it. But he could not be so silenced, and the scene ended by her opening her whole heart to him, and making him understand the bitter suf- fering of such an alternative. This painful scene was so far useful, that it put an effectual stop to the pleadings which had so often wrung her heart, when the only reply she could make to them was, ' ' Rupert ! It is impossible ! " Before they parted she made him feel and fully understand ivhy it was impossible ; and he promised, with all the solemnity of fervent truth, that she should never hear any pleading from him again, a compliance with which might lead her to deem her- self a parricide. And the unhappy Ptupert Odenthal not only made this promise sincerely, but he kept it faithfully. CHAPTEH XLYI. It is an excellent adage which says, *'Kever do wrong that right may come of it ; " but it is sadly true, nevertheless, that by doing right at one moment, we may sometimes entail sad mischief on the future. There can be no doubt that the Baroness Ger- trude acted according to her duty, when she resolutely refused to destroy her father's happiness for the sake of promotiog her own ; and yet this resolute adherence to duty probably occasioned more suffering than it saved. Moreover, it is probable, that during the melancholy discussions that have been described, and which terminated by Rupert's pledging his word that he would not again urge her to avow her attachment to her father, there was one point upon which she would have been wiser, if she had yielded to his wishes. Having promised that her father's days should never be em- FAMILY rEIDE. 303 tittered by a knowledge of this attachmeiit, Eiipert had ventured to ask for her promise that she would be his wife after the death of her father ; and she certainly showed more of weakness than of wisdom, when she answered him by a passionate flood of tears, and declared, that dearly as she loved him, she would rather that they should part that moment, never to meet again, than give a promise which might, by slow and treacherous degrees, lead to her wishing for an event, which it had been the morning and evening prayer of her life might be far, far from her ! This feeling was a very natural one, but it led her wrong. By the encouragement she had already given, she had so cherished and strengthened the attachment she had inspired, that by refusing to permit any positive promise of becoming his wife to pass her lips, she deprived him of the best, if not the only source of courage and consolation which it was in her power to bestow. The effect was very melancholy, and it was not long in show- ing itself. From being a most persevering reader, and a writer too — for the mind of Eupert was of too active a nature not to seek this indulgence — he became the very idlest, and most objjctless of men. It was in vain that poor Gertrude endeavoured to check this growing malady (for such, in truth, it was), by endeavouring to lead him into literary discussion, and to amuse his mind by sug- gesting thoughts, and speculations, less melancholy than his own. All such efforts were utterly useless. And yet it was evident that he endeavoured to rally the sink- ing energies of his character, and to be to her the same inspiring companion he had ever been. Eut such efforts were perfectly in vain ; he was no longer master of himself, and his faculties. His position was, in truth, a very cruel one. - During several years he had baffled, by the efforts of a naturally vigorous mind, and the courageous animal spirits of early youth, the painful effects arising from the conviction that the high- jjlaced beauty whom he had dared to love, did not, and could not, condescend to love him in return ; and if this utter hopelessness had continued for a year or two longer, he would doubtless have outlived, and probably forgotten, the ardent di'cam of these almost boyish days. Eut ere this sort of oblivion, or anything approaching it, had come upon him, he had the doubtful happiness of believing that this first and only love was not unrequited. 304 geeteude; oe, Tlie effect of this discovery was as decisive as it was inevitable. The world no longer contained anything ^Y^ich appeared to his feelings worth living for, unless Gertrude and her love were blended with it. The happiness which ensued from the first mutual and frank avowal of an attachment so natural, yet so long concealed, was great indeed, and it would be difficult to say which young heart derived the highest and most perfect felicity from it. But, un- fortunately, the position of the parties was such, as to render it impossible that this feeling of happiness could last. As long as Gertrude had remained hopelessly convinced that the devoted affection which she had bestowed on Eupert was un- returned, she had found very rational, and, to a certain degree, very effectual consolation, in such a constant occupation of her time as left her with few idle moments in which to indulge meditation, or the untowardness of her destiny ; which, while seeming to place her in a position in many respects so enviable, denied the only blessing that in her estimation was really worthy of the name. Very persevering and very meritorious were the efforts by which she had thus sought to emancipate herself from this vile thraldom of unrequited love ; and had the love remained unre- quited, they would probably have been crowned with the success they deserved. But no sooner did she discover her mistake, no sooner did she f c el "How sweet's the love that meets return," than all these efforts ceased, and for a time, she was, perhaps, one of the very happiest creatures in existence. And so she might have continued, perhaps, if Eupert could have contemplated the situation in which they now stood to each other, with the same satisfaction as herself ; but the first intoxi- cating joy of the explanation being over, he began to feel that if she had not courage enough to ask her father's consent to their union, and influence enough to obtain it, the consciousness of her devoted affection was rather a misery than a blessing .... and it can scarcely be denied that he was right in thinking so. Up to this period, Madame Odenthal knew nothing of the ex- planation which had taken place between her son and Gertrude, beyond what her own sagacity had enabled her to discover. They both knew her too well, not to be aware, that they should be throwing a heavy load upon her conscience, by confiding 1 f> FAMILY PEIDE. 305 her the secret of their attachment ; and their discretion certainly- saved her, for some time, from a very painful embarrassment. She could not, however, long remain blind to the marked change vs^hich had taken place in them both, nor could she long doubt the cause of it. The affectionate discretion which prevented their avowing their mutual attachment to her, did not go the length of carefully concealing it ; and the firmness of character which her son had displayed during all the misery she now felt sure he must have endured at Paris, convinced her that he would require no lec- turing from her to prevent his returning all the generous kind- ness of the baron, by inducing his daughter to leave him ; and she, therefore, felt herself justified in letting matters go on with- out any interference on her part, till the death of Gertrude's aged father should leave his daughter at liberty to act for herself. Eut this very rational resolution was now shaken by the pain- ful change which she witnessed in her son ; and no sooner did she become aware of this, than she became fully as miserable as the lovers themselves. To her son, however, she gave no hint either that she read his heart, or was aware of the ravages which the state of it had caused both in his mental and bodily health ; but she could no longer retain the same reserve with Gertrude ; and notwithstand- ing the obvious and very sad impossibility that either could help the other, the confidence thus established between them was certainly in some degree a relief to both. Yet it would be difficult to imagine anything much more sad than the conversations they held together, when all the other inhabitants of the castle had retired for the night. The very perfect accordance, moreover, which existed between them on the subject of all their melancholy discussions, only served, in their case, to increase the pain of them. Had either of them sincerely difi'ered from the other on any one point, it could scarcely have failed to be a comfort ; but not only was there no contrariety of opinion, but there was scarcely a shade of difi'erence between them ; for the strong sense of duty which led both to resolve that the tranquil happiness of the old man's life should not be disturbed, was equally firm in both. "Were we not so perfectly of the opinion that this unhappy love must be conquered," said Madame Odenthal, ''these most melancholy, but most dear moments of confidence, my dearest Gertrude, would soon degenerate into a conspiracy, and a con- spiracy against one who has been the fondest of fathers to you, 21 SOG geeteude; oe, and the most generous of "benefactors to me. Let us thank Heaven, clearest, that no selfish feeling has been powerful enough to beguile us into such sin ! " And this feeling did sustain them both ; and the proud old man dozed on in his easy chair, firmly persuaded, that not even the "Almanack de Gotha " itself recorded many names, the dignity of which was sustained with such unspotted purity as his own. Had the passive courage of Eupert been as well sustained as that of Gertrude, the destiny of both might have been very different. Eut it was not so. And yet neither his mother nor Gertrude could accuse him of failing in the promise he had given, of urging the latter no more to pledge herself to any engagement for the future. But ere many months had passed over them, so painful a change became evident in Eupert, as to suggest to them both the most terrible idea that could enter the mind of either. Health, both of mind and body, was evidently failing him. It is only by degrees that such a fact is in any case considered as likely to become permanent by those watching it at the com- mencement ; and both the loving hearts which were so tenderly devoted to him, were long sustained by the persuasion that acci- dental cold, and consequent fever, were the causes of the symp- toms which alarmed them, in which persuasion they were strengthened by the assurances of the invalid himself, who, although he confessed that he was not quite well, reiterated his assurances that he should soon be better. CHAPTEE XLYII. AYniLE everything was thus apparently stationary at Schloss Schwanberg, an important change took place in the family of their nearest and most estimable neighbour, Count Steinfeld. His wife, who though not a very brilliant, was a very amiable woman, died from a fever caught by some imprudent ex- posure to cold, after active exercise. Her son and his wife, who FAMILY TETDE. 307 had been now absent for more tlian a year, "were suddenly re- called, but arrived only in time to attend her funeral. The only persons admitted to see them during tlie first month or two which followed this melancholy event, were their neighbours at Schloss Schwanberg, and Gertrude's society became a blessing of no small importance to poor Lucy ; for she had lost much of her former gaiety since they parted, having become a mother, and lost her child, just as she was made aware that life had better pleasures to bestow than any which could be welcomed by laughter. She was now much more sedate, without being at all less agreeable ; for her quick faculties and charming good humour were only the more endearing, from being no longer displayed in the perpetual garb of jesting. The retm'n of Adolphe seemed, for a time, to produce a very salutary effect on the health of llupert ; and the having remarked this, caused Gertrude to promote, by every means in her power, an almost daily intercourse between the two families, and this intercourse certainly proved a most essential advantage to both parties. The truly sorrowing widower, ^v}lo was still almost a young man, having some family arrangements to settle with the brother of his deceased wife, was prevailed uj)on to change the scene by transacting the business in person, at the distant residence of this brother ; and Count Adolphe and his young wife were left in occupation of the family mansion, which being "a world too wide" for the reduced household, was greatly benefited by the frequent visits of the Schwanberg party. The aged baron, indeed, had for some time been beginning to feel that it was more agreeable to receive visits, than to make them ; but as Father Alaric had been of late taken into as great favour as a backgammon player, as he still continued to be as a confessor, he was always at hand to assist his sister Odenthal in supplying the place both of his daughter and his secretary. But although Eupert never met his friend Adolphe without pleasure, the excitement caused by his return soon faded away ; and though he frequently, as in days of yore, brought over some newly-arrived volume, or pungent pamphlet, upon which they might compare criticisms, and philosophise on the onward move- ment of the age, it was often evident to the quick eye of Adolphe, that his friend was no longer the same ardent thinker, or the same animated companion, that he was wont to be. Rupert could still talk, and talk well, on all the stirring themes which science and philosophy suggested, but it was not without 21—3 308 gehteude; on, effort that he did so ; and this intimate and almost daily inter- course had not continued long, before Adolphe became convinced that his friend was suffering from some malady, either mental or bodily, or both. It chanced that our old acquaintance, Dr. Meper, who was still the favourite JEsculapius of the neighbourhood, was making a professional visit to Lucy, when Eupcrt arrived to keep an appointment which he had made with Count Adolj)he. It was more than a year since the doctor had last seen his former patient ; and he was immediately struck by the alteration, by no means for the better, which had taken place in his appear- ance durino; the interval. " AVhat have you been doing with yourself, my young friend, since I had last the pleasure of seeing you '? " said the sagacious doctor, "You look as if you had been making a campaign in Egypt, and that it had very particularly disagreed with you." It was a very languid smile with which Rupert replied, " Xo, doctor, I have not been campaigning in Egypt. Perhaps I have not been campaigning enough, anywhere. I believe I am gradually growing into the condition of the poor grub commonly called a book- worm." " Then I strongly recommend you to leave the Schwanberg library to take care of itself for a little time, while you set forth upon a scamper either north, south, west, or east, to amuse your- self. I would not have taken, so much trouble as I did some seven or eight years ago to keep you alive, after your heroic adventure with the little baroness in the river, if I had thought 5'ou would turn out nothing better than a grub." AVhile laughingly ranking this speech. Dr. IS'ieper had taken the hand of Eupert in liis, and with an air of very easy indif- ference was carefuUj' feeling his pulse. He made no observation, however, upon the condition in which he found it, and almost immediately afterwards took his leave. Eupert returned to the business upon which he and his friend had been engaged before this interruption, and which consisted in the examination of a very dusty collection of old coins which Adolphe had discovered in some out-of-the-way corner, and which he flattered himself the savoir of his friend Eupcrt might enable him to arrange ; but Adolphe pushed the table aside, saying, " Xo, no, Eupert, if you are unwell, you shall not be teased by such tiresome work as this. Let us take a stroll up the long walk. It will do us both a great deal more good than poring over these dirty coins." FAMILY rPJDE. 309 Eupert offered no opposition to the X3roposal, and the two young men set off upon their lounging excursion. This was certainly not the first time that Count Adolphe had been aware that his friend was looking unwell ; but Rupert having replied to the affectionate inquiry on the subject which this observation led to, by saying, " I have had a bad cold, and that always makes one look half dead, I think," had received the explanation as perfectly satisfactory, and contented himself after- wards by occasionally reiterating the usual fomiula so constantly repeated upon similar occasions. "Do take care of yourself, Eupert. You do not look as if you had got rid of that abomi- nable cold yet." But the words, and still more the manner, of Dr. Meper had alarmed Adolphe ; and he determined to take advantage of the next opportunity which presented itself, to learn the skilful practitioner's real opinion. He did not wait long for this, for Lucy was still under his care ; and having wavlaid the good doctor as he was making his retreat, the young Count asked him, with some anxiety, whether he thought his friend Odenthal had any complaint more serious than the " bad cold " which he complained of. " If you had not asked me this question. Count Adolphe," re- plied the Doctor, "I think I should have addressed something like it to you. It is some months since I last saw this very magnificent young fellow, and the change which has taken place in him startles me. He is decidedly suffering under the treache- rous influence of low fever. Is it long since you first remarked this painful change in him ? " " 2s'o, not long," replied the Count. " When I did remark it, he told me that he had been suffering from a severe cold. Do you think, Dr. !N"ieper, that a cold is a malady of sufficient im- portance to account for the change which we both remark in him?" ^^ A coJd?''^ repeated the Doctor, shaking his head; '' a cold is a sort of nick-name for a multitude of maladies, which would sound a good deal worse, if described more accurately. He may have had a cold, and this cold may have been neglected, and it may, though I don't say it has, but it may have settled upon the chest, which would be quite enough to account for the very un- satisfactory state of his pulse. But it is just as likely that he may be suffering under the influence of some mental vexation, as from any other cause. It does sometimes happen, you know, at his age, that young people worry themselves into fevers, without 310 gebteude; or, the help of any specific malady. Let it he what it nay, I trust he will do hattle with it, and master it too, for he is one of the finest young men I ever saw." Adolphe neither liked these threatening words, nor the tone in which they were spoken; for there was evidently some alarm, as well as much kindness, in the good man's manner. He was determined, however, if there was any serious malady, he would find it out, and prevent its being neglected. *' He shall have change of air and scene, if that will do him any good," thought the kind-hearted Adolphe. " I would travel with him round the world, dear fellow ! rather than lose him ! " The intercourse between the two families was too frequent to leave any long interval before the young men again met ; and then, although E-upert's reply to his ''How are you?" was a very prompt " Yery well, thank you," his appeai^ance was by no means accordant with it. The dusty coins were again brought out, the occupation they were likely to offer being more favourable, in the young Count's opinion, to the cross-examination to which he fully intended to submit him, than the absence of all employment for eyes and hands. Although the very happy husband of the pretty Lucy was as free from all lover-like admiration for the stately Gertrude as it was well possible for a man to be, he well remembered the time when he had thought her very charming ; and although he equally remembered that liupert was at that time very far from looking at her with the same admiring eyes as himself, he thought it by no means impossible, that during the years they had since passed together, the judgment of the man might have corrected the defective taste of the boy. ''Mercy on him, if this unfortunate change has actually taken place ! " mentally exclaimed Adolphe, as he recalled the result of his own adventure. "If the 'Almanack de Gotha' rejected me, how will it serve my unfortunate friend? " Eut the obvious difficulties attending such an attachment, by no means sufficed to convince Adolphe that it could not exist ; moreover, he very modestly remembered that it was possible the young lady herself might be more inclined to throw over the * Almanack' in this case than in his own; and if, indeed, Eupert Odenthal loved Gertrude, and was loved by her in return, it was not very improbable that the utter impossibility of obtaining the baron's consent might occasion misery sufficient to break more hearts than one. FAMILY PEIDE. 311 Adolphe rGmembcrecl, too, while ruminating on this very inter- esting possibility, that Lucy had long ago hinted a suspicion that Gertrude had feelings, even tenderer than a sister's love, for this companion of her youth, who had first saved her life, and then, beyond all doubt, very materially contributed to embellish it ; for no one knew better than Adolphc, no, not even Gertriide herself, how very delightful, and how very attaching a companion Eupert would be. "And must he die for it?" mentally exclaimed his friend, as this very probable state of things suggested itself. " Yet who is to find out the real state of the case? and how is it possible that we can give counsel, or aid of any kind, without being in their confidence ? " Eut it was easier to see the truth of this, than to devise any plan by which the difficulty could be lessened. If this suspected attachment really existed, the impediments to any happy conclu- sion to such a romance were of much too stubborn a character to afi'ord any reasonable hope of their yielding to any influence which could be put in action to remove them. The bare idea of attacking the baron on the subject, so vividly recalled the scene of his own dismissal, that his active imagina- tion immediately painted to him the sort of indignation which was likely to ensue, upon Eupert Odenthal's being proposed to him as a son-in-law, and he instantly decided that the experiment must not be made. If Eupert had been his own brother, Adolphe Steinfeld could not have shrunk from the idea of his being treated with indignity, more sensitively than he did now ; and, at length, he decided that, by far the best remedy which could be applied, if further obser- vation tended to confirm the notion of this attachment, would be absence. *' I will carry him off ! " he mentally exclaimed. ** We will together traverse this pretty little globe of ours, from east to west ; and it may be, that when we return, we shall find this high-born heiress safely united in holy wedlock to some noble Yon something, whose name glitters through half a dozen pages of the holy Almanack." It was without the very slightest approach to satirical imperti- nence that La ^Fontaine's well-known words, " On a souvent besoiii d'vin plus petit que soi," occurred to him. He felt conscious that, intimate as he was with Eupert, he should be greatly at a loss how to set to work in order to discover whether he was right or wrong in the guess he 312 GERTErDE; OE, had made respecting' the greatly-altered condition of his friend. "I know that, if I attempted to hint my suspicion to him, I should do it in so confoundedly awkward a manner, that I should be sure to give him pain, but not be so sure of obtaining his con- fidence," thought Adolphe, as he meditated long and anxiously on the subject. But, having come to this conclusion, he went on a little further, and then it occurred to him that, although ho might fail in arriving at an exact knowledge of the state of Bupert's affections, by way of question and answer, Lucy might accomplish the same object, by means of her intimate intercourse with Grertrude. And then it was that the saucy quotation about " tm 2)Iub 'petiV suggested itself. But, truly, there was no offence in it, according to his interpretation ; and any mind which could have followed his, as he dwelt upon the tender tact and loving gentleness with which he knew his Lucy would perform such a task, if hoping to serve her friend thereby, would have found only what was endearing in the word ])etit., and nothing at all approaching the more contemptible characteristics of a mouse. CHAPTEE XLYIII. The languid eye and feverish cheek of poor Eupert would not easily have passed from the mind of his friend, even if he had been surrounded by a host of the very gayest company ; but, as it happened, he and his Lucy passed the evening of the day on which he had first felt seriously alarmed about him, in a perfectly undisturbed matrimonial tete-a-iete^ and it was thus that the subject was discussed between them : — " Lucy, dear," said Adolphe, as they sipped their evening coffee, *' do you remember telling me, at least a year ago, I think it was, that you fancied the Baroness Gertrude was a little bit, or so, inclined to fall in love with my friend Odenthal? " ''Yes, husband," replied Lucy, very demui'ely; "I remember it very particularly well." " But, as you have never said anything about it since, I presume you have changed your mind." "I don't very clearly see why that should follow," returned FAMILY PEIDE. 313 Lucy, rather gravely. " Eut, I believe, I was only in jest when I said it." " So I remember thinking at the time. Eut tell me, Lucy, has no such idea about either of them ever come into your head since ? " " Why do you ask me ? " was her rejoinder. ''Don't be mysterious, my dear, unless you have pledged your word to be so," returned her husband. "I have certainly pledged my word to nothing in any degree connected with the subject; and if I have ever thought of it since, it has not been in the way of a jest, Adolphe," was her grave reply. Her husband remained silent for a minute or two, and then said, " My dear Lucy, if you have ever had any confidential conversa- tion with the Baroness Gertrude respecting her feelings towards Rupert, or his towards her, let me very earnestly beg you to believe that I would not for the world be the means of leading you to betray it." *'I am quite sure you would do no such thing," returned his wife. " Eut I, on my side, am in no more danger of committing such treachery, than you are of tempting me to do it ; for I never heard Gertrude allude to Eupert at all in any of the many tete-a-tete conversations which we have had together ... so decidedly, indeed, has this been the case, Adolphe, that I own to you I have sometimes thought that she would not trust herself to talk of him." " God grant it may be so ! " cried Adolphe, fervently. *' What can you mean, dear husband?" exclaimed Lucy, with surprise. '' Would you wish the Eroness Gertrude to fall in love with Eupert Odenthal ? " "I might form such a wish, Lucy, and very rationally, too, in my opinion (provided he returned her love), for I do not believe the whole world can contain any man more worthy of her. I know him well, Lucy, and I know of no fine quality which he does not possess, nor of any evil one which he does." "Oh, Adolphe! what a dreadful misfortune it is that their respective stations should place them so far asunder ! " exclaimed Lucy, with very genuine feeling. "As I have received no con- fidence," she added, " I shall betray none by telling you, that in mv heart I do believe Gertrude loves him." "And I do believe in mine that he loves her!" returned Adolphe, with great energy ; " and if we are both of us right in our conjectures, my dear wife, I know of no deed that I should 3l4 geetetde; oe consider it more righteous to perform than the removing all the doubts, difficulties, and obstacles which impede their becomicg man and wife." Lucy joyfully clapped her hands on healing these very unex- pected words, and bestowed a nod and smile of unmistakable approbation on her husband. But her glee did not last long ; for after the meditation of a few minutes, every one of which, as they passed, caused her to look graver and graver, she heaved a very heavy sigh, and exclaimed, in a voice which sounded very like a groan, ''Oh, Adolphe ! the baron! the baron I " Adolphe prefaced his reply, by seizing with one hand a piece of crumpled paper on which some idle characters had been scrawled, and then thrown aside, and with the other a volume of Tennyson's poems, which lay upon the table. "Now, Lucy ! " said he, almost solemnly, "look on this paper and on that. "Which of these articles do you consider as the best deserving of preservation?" Lucy looked puzzled for a moment, but her bright eye kindled as he went on. " That worn-out morsel of transmuted rag," said he, pointing to the crumpled paper, " may serve, not unaptly, to represent our right good friend the baron; and this," he added, taking the Tennyson volume in his hand, " as fitly represents our ardent-minded, philosophical Eupert. jS'ow, Lucy, if you were obliged to decide that one of these two objects must of necessity be thrown aside and forgotten, in order to preserve the other in the highest possible preservation, the choice between them being left wholly to you, how should you decide ? " " I doubt not I should say on this occasion, as I should on most others, Adolphe .... You must decide for me. And as usual, dear husband, I should do so with very little fear that your fiat would run counter to my wishes." "You are a darling wife, Lucy; and my friend Eupert shall have a darling wife too, if we can but find out some good way of conquering the difficulties that surround him." " The only difficulty is the baron, dear Adolphe ! " said Lucy, shaking her head in a very desponding style. "Your crumpled bit of paper does not represent him fairly. As far as his being rather useless goes, it might do very well ; but you do not under- stand Gertrude as well as I do, if you fancy that she considers him as of little consequence, because he happens to be of little use. I do not believe that she would run the risk of making him mnhappy during the few years of life which may remain to him, FA3riLY PETDE. 3l5 if she conlcl ensure her o^n happiness by doing so to the end of a life as long as his own." "I daresay you are right, Lucy; I do believe that there is an immense fund of devoted aficction, and heroic self-denial, in the heart of every tolerably good woman. Eut she is not the first, you know, who has felt the inconvenience of a divided duty. If she performs her part as a good daughter, in such a manner as to send Rupert to an early grave, I shall not very easily forgive her," said Adolphe, somewhat sternly. " Oh ! as to that, my dear friend," returned Lucy gaily, ''men have died and worms have eaten them .... You know the rest." " I know the rest of your quotation, but you do not know the rest of ray prophecy . . . ." And then, discarding all playfulness of manner, Adolphe related to her very exactly what had passed between himself and Doctor Nieper. She was both pained and surprised at this, and for the first time, began to feel that Adolphe was very gravely in earnest. J^or was it without reason that he was so. He had made no blunder either in the judgment he had himself passed on the painfully altered appearances of his friend, nor in the interpreta- tion which he had given both to the words and the manner of Doctor Xieper. Eut no sooner was the warm-hearted Lucy awakened to the fact that Adolphe really believed the tranquillity, nay, it might be, the life of his friend was endangered by this apparently desperately hopeless attachment, than she at once set herself very seriously to consider whether some way might not be found, ere the mischief had gone too far to be repaired, by which a denoue- ment somewhat less terrible than death might be brought about. JS'o sooner had she expressed to Adolphe her ardent wish to make some effort, whether likely to be ultimately successful or not, by which a chance at least might be given of such hope for the future as might, in some degree cheer the present, than he eagerly accepted her profi'ered services. "I am quite sure," he hopefully exclaimed, " that it is not in the nature of gentle, soft-hearted woman, to be so sternly stubborn in their secrecy, as it is evident my friend Eupert intends to be. He thinks that it is his duty to bury this miserable, hopeless attachment in eternal silence, and if once persuaded that it is his duty to die, and 'make no sign,' he will do it." " He shall not do it if I can prevent it," exclaimed Lucy, eagerly. 316 GERTE'TBE ; OR, ''Dear Tvife ! " said Adolphe, fondly kissiup: her; "I \rould give my little finger to ensure to poor pale llupert a life-long companion as dear to him as you are to me ! " • " Then let me have a long talk with Gertrude," said Lucy, very much in earnest, as was evident from her eyes as well as her voice. ''You shall, dearest!" replied her husband. "I have great faith in you, for your heart is in this business, my dear wife. You will make your approaches gently. Lead her to say ten words about Eupert, and I will trust to your sagacity for making out their meaning, assisted by the context you will find in her eyes." 1^0 time was lost in putting this scheme in action, and it was with right good will that la petite set about it. The minds of the two friends could scarcely admit of com- parison, they were so widely diiferent both in strength and in tone ; but the qualities of which the heart is considered as the home, had much more of sympathy. Lucy would have felt her- self greatly more embarrassed had she been charged with a mission to discover Gertrude's opinion on any of the multitude of abstract points on which human minds seem "agreed to differ," (as if only for the purpose of displaying the endless variety of their fanciful workings) than she was now, that she had undertaken to dive into the depths of a woman's heart, which has been so very often described as unfathomable. Eut she felt, or fancied, that the way was both short and direct. She made her first step towards the point she had in view, by saying, "How is our friend Eupert to-day, my dear Ger- trude?" " Yery well, I believe," replied Gertrude, occupying herself as she spoke, in looking for some object which she had, or had not, dropped upon the carpet. "But I have scarcely seen him to-day. I think he has gone to assist Count Adolphe in ' doing nothing,' as you sometimes saucily describe their learned avoca- tions." "Adolphe is uneasy about his health," said Lucy, gravely; "and I must say I do not think he is looking well. Does not his mother feel uneasy at seeing him so evidently changed in appear- ance? " "Changed in appearance?" repeated Gertrude, so evidently changed in appearance herself, as she repeated the words, that Lucy felt her doubts, if she had any, as completely solved, as if the most explicit declaration on the point she wished to elucidate, FAIJIILY TEIDE. 317 had Leen utterod by tlie pale and trembling lips of poor Gertrude. She had, indeed, been taken entirely by surprise. Had it been otherwise, she might perhaps in some degree have avoided so very decided a demonstration of her feelings. For one short moment she struggled to recover herself, but the effort was in vain, and she burst into tears. The eyes of pretty Lucy were dim, too, as she looked into the face of her friend, and perceived how painfully her burning blushes completed the story which her tears began. " Why should you turn your eyes away from me, my sweet Gertrude!" she exclaimed. "Love me only half as well as I love you, and you will find comfort and not suffering, from per- ceiving that I read your heart." " Spare me ! spare me ! " sobbed Gertrude. " Spare you the comfort of knowing that your noble nature is understood by one w^hose greatest boast (next to possessing her husband's love) is, that she believes herself beloved by you ? Pie, Gertrude ! Fie ! I know that I^ature has not endowed me with such talents as she has bestowed on you. But you should not shrink from my true love on that account." "Shrink from it?" said poor Gertrude, wdth clasped hands and streaming eyes. " Oh, Lucy I Lucy ! could you but read all my heart as correctly as it seems you have read a part of it, you w^ould know, that if my wretched, self- condemning spirit, could, or can, find comfort from anything, it must be from your indulgent affection. That you blame me, that you must blame me, for having in my heart of hearts so cruelly rebelled against the well-known and most earnest wishes of my dear, devoted father, is, I well know, as certain as that the light of heaven enables us to see each other ! That you should still love me, Lucy, is indeed a balm to my heart, but I feel as if I had no right to apply it." "And why not, my beautiful baroness?" said Lucy, smiling affectionately at her. "Perhaps you think that you shall be fixing a very heavy responsibility on Adoli:)he and on me, by opening your heart to us ; but you will be exonerated from this now, dearest, by my having- taken the initiative, and confessed, that, notwithstanding all your admirable discretion, we have discovered your secret. And how could it have been otherwise, dear Gertrude ? The obvious probability of such an attachment, thrown together as you have been for so many years, could scarcely fail to strike friends who know you both so thoroughly 318 GEETErDE; OE, ■well as we do ITow could it have been possible, dearest, that you should not love one another? " "God forbid that my poor father should ever be so quick- sighted! I think it would kill hini ! " said Gertrude, with a groan. "Fear nothing on that score," returned Lucy, laughing. "I am quite sure," she added, "that if I were to state the fact to him, he would think I was romancing." "Yes. You are quite right! " said Gertrude, hiding her face with both hands. " I have so constantly and so carefully deceived him, and he has so frankly and so honourably believed my falsehoods, that it was certainly very nearly impossible that the truth could reach him. But what a picture is this giving of myself?" she added. "How can you fancy that you love me, Lucy ? " " There is no fancy in it, my dear friend," replied Lucy, gravely. * ' You have had a very difficult destiny to contend with. I can by no means blame your father, however, for having esta- blished Rupert Odenthal as a member of his family. I cannot blame him for it, because he felt grateful for an immense service, and hoped to requite it by giving him a happy position in his family. But you must excuse me if I say that his doing so, would have been utterly inexcusable, had not his inveterate pre- judice of rank and birth rendered him totally blind to the probable consequences which were likely to ensue Likely ? . . . . Oh, much more than likely; the consequences, Gertrude, were inevitable. If you do not shut the eyes of your judgment, in order to give your terrified conscience chamj) lihre to torment you, it is impossible but you must perceive the truth of this. AVhy has Adolphe selected Eupert as the chosen friend of his life ? Is it not from the same cause which has led you to select him as the chosen friend of yours ? Is it not because their frequent inter- course enabled them to know each well, and is not your attach- ment the consequence of the same process ? That process, under the circumstances in which your father placed you, was inevit- able, I tell you ; and you might as reasonably blame yourself for being wet under a shower-bath, or scorched in the midst of a fire, as for loving such a being as Rupert, while constantly associating with him. It may, according to your notions, be a misfortune, but you will never persuade me that it is a sin." Poor Gertrude's eyes had been full of tears when Lucy began her harangue, but it was with a very sweet smile that die repaid her eloquence. FAMILY PEIDE. 319 ^'Liicy ! *' she said, after the silence of a minute or two, "I may i^erhaps have done Rupert no more than justice ; but I have done less to you." " How so, dear friend ? " returned the young Countess, taking her hand, and looking at her very aiiectionately ; "I would not hear yoiu' enemy say so," she added, with a loving kiss. " In what have you done me less than justice? " " I have never given you credit for one half so much eloquence as you have now displayed," replied Gertrude. " But alas ! alas 1 " she added ; " how dare I trust my judgment upon such a theme ? There is one point, however, upon which I am quite sure you are right. You cannot estimate the worth of Eupert Oden- thal more highly than it deserves. My preference of him beyond all others whom I have known, may, therefore, be reasonably defended, and conscientiously excused. But I doubt if this can in any degree absolve me from the duty I owe to my dear father. I think, Lucy, that if I were to marry Eupert Odenthal, I should break my father's heart. I think it would kill him, Lucy;" and as she said this, tears again started to the eyes of Gertrude. Lucy did not immediately answer her. It was, indeed, not easy to do it, if she expressed her opinion honestly, without doing more harm than good to the cause which she wished to advocate ; for she really thought it by no means improbable that if the experiment were tried, the result might prove Gertrude to be right ; the Countess Adolphe really thought it very possible that such an event might endanger the life of the baron. In short, she fixed her eyes upon the carpet, and looked very grave ; and as a further proof that her admired eloquence had failed her, she got up to take her leave. Gertrude rose too, and held out her hand. Lucy received it, and for a moment held it silently between her own, and then said, " I must leave you now, my dearest Gertrude, because I feel that my remaining with you must do you more harm than good. It is your own heart must be your counsellor, and it is a difficult case upon which that dear aching heart has to plead . . . for it is retained on both sides of the question. But I will not leave you without one other word ; more, however, in the shape of commentary than of counsel. I think you are right in be- lieving that the effect of hearing that you were attached to Eupert, might be very seriously injurious to the health of your father ; but neither will I conceal from you, that the health of Eupert gives us great uneasiness. Dr. iS'ieper has seen him acci- dentally, at our house, and thinks him far from weU. Your 320 gerteude; oe, position, Gertrude, is a very difficult cue, but we shall do each other no good by talking of it. I confess I see but one means of escaping from it . . . and that will not, most assuredly, be aided by discussing the subject with anyone. The only safety must bo found in exactly a contrary course. Consult your own heart as well as your own conscience, Gertrude, and if both the lives which seem to hang on your decision can be cared for, as they ought to be, it must be achieved by the secret decision of your own heart, and your own judgment. You need no confidential advisers, Gertrude, and it is far better that you should have none." Lucy waited for no reply, but kissed the pale cheek of her friend, and left her. CHAPTER XLIX. Ltjcy had not set off on her charitable visit to Schloss Schwan- berg, without giving her husband a hint that she intended to find out, if possible, the terms upon which his friend, and her friend, stood together ; and he watched for her return with some im- patience. Eut she brought him considerably less intelligence than he had hoped to receive. On one point, however, and that certainly, a very important one, she made a report which he was glad to receive, although it went no further than to confirm the opinion he had already formed on the subject. " Yes, Adolphe 1 " was her prompt reply to the first question he asked her. *'Yes! We make no mistake about that. Let llupert love Gertrude as devotedly as heart can love, I feel per- fectly certain that she requites him." " Has she told him so ?" demanded Adolphe, eagerly. " I did not ask her," replied Lucy, with rather a quizzing smile. '' Pirst," she continued, ** because I did not think it was a discreet question to ask ; and secondly, because I did not feel it to be necessary." " You mean that you discovered the fact, without putting her to the embarrassment of confessing it," returned her husband. Then you were quite right to spare the question," he added : li fa:mily phtde. 321 ''but would it not have been more honest, if you had given the second reason as number one ? " "And so put my discretion in the background?" she re- joined, " AYhen I have told you more, Sir husband, I think it very probable that you may accuse .me of displaying rather too much, than too little discretion. All the intelligence I have to give you is, that I think I left Gertrude more easy at heart than I found her. For the rest, I do most earnestly, most humbly advise the most cautious avoidance, on our parts, of everything in the least degree approaching interference." Adolphe looked at her with such an expression of comic sur- prise, that she laughed. "Thank Heaven!" he exclaimed. "It is, I assure you, Lucy, an immense comfort to see that your power of laughing has survived this mysterious visit. The profound gravity with which you uttered your humble advice rather frightened me. Eut now that the frigid solemnity of your aspect has begun to thaw a little, I hope we shall be able to understand each other. Alas ! poor Gertrude ! " he added, after the pause of a moment; " I suppose she has been imploring you not to repeat one single word of what she has said to you. God bless her, poor girl! She need not be afraid of me. I would help her if I could, though I do not know very well how to set about it ; but, at any rate, she need not fear that I should betray her." " Xor does she, Adolphe!" said Lucy, eagerly. "You have completely misunderstood me. The caution I enjoined was not dictated by her judgment, but by mine." " And what indiscretion do you fear on my part, Lucy? Do you fancy, dearest, that I am likely to proclaim aloud to all who may be willing to listen, that I suspect the Baroness Gertrude von Schwanberg of being enamoured of her noble father's librarian? " " JS'onsense, Adolphe! You know I have no such fancy," replied his wife, endeavouring to look more light-hearted than she felt. " All I meant was, that I think the misery of Gertrude would become incalculably greater than it is, if we either of us were to utter a word which, by being repeated to her father, might awaken his suspicion. Your aifection for Eupert might (perhaps) lead you to speak of him to the baron as a man who would not disgrace any alliance. And that might prove quite enough to awaken a suspicion." " Fear nothing of the kind, Lucy," replied her husband. "I know the baron much too well to com.mit any such imprudence ; 322 GEHTPXDE ; or., so be easy on that h^acT, you dear, cautious, little soul ! And tell poor Gertrude to be easy about it, also. It would be bar- barous to let any unnecessary doubts and fears be added to her embarrassments. God knows there are few objects to which I would so readily devote myself as the bringing these two dear creatures together, as man and wife. Do make her understand this, Lucy, will you ? " Lucy remained silent for a moment, and then she very de- murely replied, '' No, Adolphe. You must excuse me if I decline saying anything whatever on the subject to Gertrude. J^othing that I could say would add to the firm conviction which she has already of our true affection for her ; and I am quite determined not to allude to the subject of her attachment in any way." Adolphe looked at her stedfastly, and then performed one of those elongated, and very impertinent whistles, which indicate both disapproval and contempt. *' Then I presume, dearly beloved wife," he said, as soon as he thought proper to bring his very long whistle to a conclusion ; " then I must presume that your confidential tete-a-tete- together was so managed as to lead, if not to an absolute quarrel, at least, to a pretty decided estrangement." '■'■ Then you will presume to make a gTcat blunder, my dearly- beloved husband," replied Lucy ; " and if you were to out- whistle all the railroads in Europe, and America to boot, you would not persuade me to doubt for a moment the propriety of the resolution I have taken. So far from there being any estrangement between us, I do assure you, Adolphe, that we never parted more affec- tionately, nor with a more earnest wish to meet again, than we did to-day. J^iTevertlielcss, I am quite resolved that for the future I will most scrupulously avoid any allusion whatever to the attachment which you and I have agreed in thinking existed between her and your friend, Ptupert Odenthal." " And pray, Mrs. Mystery, have you any objection to telling me whether it is your present opinion that we have been mistaken on this point?" said Adolx)he. " jS'o, husband. I cannot say that anything which has passed between Gertrude and myself this morning has led to that con- clusion," she replied. " Eut the subject is one," she added, ''that ought not to be discussed between us. I have too much respect for her, and I might say too much reverence for her rec- titude, and her judgment, to wish to influence her. She must judge entirely for herself, Adolphe ; and I have a very firm pcr- Buasion that she will finally ctecide upon doing what is wisest FAMILY PItlDE. 323 and best both for herself and Eupert. I should be vastly delighted to congTatiilate them on their marriage .... but till the proper time for this arrives, she shall never hear the subject alluded to by me." '' "Well, my dear, I daresay you are right, though I do not quite comprehend your tactics," replied xidolphe, with his usual good- humoured gaiety of tone. " Eut at any rate," he added more gravely, ''nothing can have passed between you and Gertrude, which should prevent poor dear llupcrt from having the comfort and consolation of opening his heart freely to me on the subject. That we are right in our conjectures respecting the important fact of Gertrude's attachment to him, you do not, with all your caution and mystery, deny. This, of itself, is quite sufficient to justify my talking with him freely on the subject." Lucy was in general a ready, as well as a rapid speaker, and by no means in the habit of leaving anyone who addressed her, to wait long for a reply. Eut now she sat silent, with her eyes riveted upon her husband, and a considerable augmentation of colour on her fair cheeks. Adolphe fixed his eyes upon her in return, for a minute or two, V\'ith a puzzled look ; but, as she said nothing, he rose from his chair with a great bound, exclaiming, '' Well ! At least I shall have the satisfaction now, of talking to Eupert on the subject without any fear of deluding him into false hopes. I dare- say he will call before the day is over. Au revoir ! cliere And having said these words, he quietly turned himself to- wards the door. He did not reach it, however, before the hand of Lucy had seized upon his arm. "My dear, dear Adolphe!" she ex- claimed, looking very coaxingiy in his face. *' If you were not the best-tempered man in the world, as well as the most exem- plary of husbands, I could not dare to make the petition I am about to do. . . . For I really feel that my interfering between you and your dearest friend, must appear to be an act of most detestable presumption. And yet, Adolphe, that is exactly what I am going to do. I am going to beg and entreat you, to say nothing whatever to Eupert on the subject of his attachment to Gertmde." " You are coming out in a perfectly new character, Lucy," replied her husband, looking considerably more grave than was usual with him. "Eecause I venture to give you advice, Adolphe?" she re- 22—2 324 gertefde; oe, plied, cli'opping the arm she had seized upon, and looking still more solemn than he did himself. '' No ! " he returned quickly, and throwing his arm round her. '' I do not mean that, Lucy, I should like to have your advice now, and always. Eut what puzzles me is your air of mystery. It is so unlike you." '' And in what does this mystery consist ? " she replied. '' I will tell you, Adolphe. It consists solely in my having nothing to tell you! Confess the truth!" she added, laughing; "you fancied that after a tete-a-tete with Gertrude, I must come home full of matter, and he able to tell you exactly on what terms these lovers stood together. Lovers I do certainly believe they are, but beyond that I know nothing ; nor will I ever hint a wish to Gertrude, that she should confide to me anything that she may wish to conceal. So upon this point, dearest, you will always find me quite as mysterious as I am at present. Eor my own part, I am thankful that it is so ! There is no way of keeping a secret so effectual, as carefully avoiding the knowledge of it." '' That is a truth, my dear, that I shall not venture to deny," he replied, in his usual cheerful tone. " Eut the thing that puzzles me, Lucy, is not that you should be silent (though there is certainly something out of the common way in it), but that you should insist upon my being so likewise. I really think that the kindest thing I could do for my friend Bupert, would be the leading him to open his heart to me." Lucy shook her head. '' It might, perhaps, seem to be the kindest," she replied, " but I am quite persuaded that it would not be the wisest. Eut as you have certainly the right to think yourself a bettei- judge of this question than I can be, I will only ask you to indulge me in this whim, this notion of mine, for a very short time." " And for how many days is this short time to last, Lucy ? " he replied. " How long must I see this man, whom I love as if he were my brother, how long must I see him looking as miser- able as he does now, and growing thinner and more hectic-looking every day, without giving him the consolation of knowing that I sec no presumption in his love, and that I fully believe it is re- turned ? Por what length of time, Lucy, do you mean to insist upon my withholding this consolation from him ? " '' Insist! " repeated Lucy, again shaking her head. " That is not a pretty word, Adolphe ! However, you are, upon the whole, very condescending, if not perfectly gracious, and I will be moderate and reasonable in my demands. Moreover, the delay I FAMILY PEIDE. 325 will ask from you shall be only conditional. All I ask is, that, just for the present, Rupert should be received here with the same cheerful welcome as heretofore ; that no allusion should be made to his altered spirits, or his altered looks. Let this mode of treatment go on for a week or two, Adolphe ! That is not very long, you know ! If you will agree to this, on your part, I will agree on mine to withdraw all restriction on your con- fidential intercourse, provided that you do not perceive him to be improving in health and spirits. And in that case, perhaps, it may not be very long before he opens his heart to you." '' And in that case, Lucy, I shall be x^erfectly well contented, whether he opens his heart to me concerning this suspected love affair, or not. In the mean time, dear little wife, I readily sub- scribe to your conditions. Moreover, I will be honest enough to confess, that I think there is some wisdom in your counsel. If our surmises respecting their attachment be correct, we must confess, despite all our earnest wishes for its success, that it is a very thorny and difficult affair, and that, in good truth, our wishes and good- will cannot do much towards helping them." Lucy put her loving arms round his neck, very unceremoniously pulled down his lofty head, and impressed a kiss upon his fore- head. " If Gertrude does marry Eupert," she said in a whisper, as if she were afraid the winds might hear it, " if she does, she will not have one quarter so charming a husband as I have." CHAPTER L. Either from accident, or design, on the part of Gertrude, or on that of Lucy, or both, no long tete-d-tete meetings took place between them for some time ; but, nevertheless, their intercourse was as frequent and as affectionate as ever. They often dined together, sometimes at the home of the one, and sometimes at that of the other; but it so happened, that Madame Odenthal was always of the party. As to the young men, their intimacy was in no degree less than heretofore ; but, nevertheless, there seemed to be something fitful and capricious in the manner of it. 326 gehtrude; oe, It would, in truth, have been difficult for citlior of tlicm, "when within reach of the other, not to profit by the vicinity ; for not only were they attached by the memory and the habits of many years of youthful friendship, but they had neither of them, as yet, ever met with any other man equally well qualified to satisfy both heart and intellect, as companion and friend. Is'either hard reading nor deep thinking is greatly in fashion among noble Austriaus ; and such a young man as Adolphe Steinfeld, would probably have felt himself more at a loss to find a companion to suit him in the brilliant and crowded salons of Yienna, than in the remote seclusion of his father's castle, for he found E-upert Odenthal within reach of him there. • Improvements of all sorts are going on so raj)idly in this busy little globe of ours, that we may reasonably hope to see these elegant salons, at no very distant date, becoming a little more intellectual, without becoming less graceful. A sprinkling of Lansdownes, Carlisles, and Lord Johns, would speedily cure the species of inanity which, if report says true, still lingers in the perfumed drawing-rooms of this imperial metropolis ; but, as yet, a man, like Adolphe Steinfeld, who has passed his happiest hours in reading, thinking, and discussing with a kindred spirit, themes capable of transporting him, not only bcj'ond the silken walls of a drawing-room, but a little, too, beyond the boundaries of this fair globe, called earth, is apt to prefer the forest to the Prater. And such, in fact, was very decidedly the case with Count Adolphe von Steinfeld. Perhaps it was because he had of late found his friend Pupcrt less prone than formerly to kindle with him into ianimation, at coming in contact with new trains of thought, that Adolphe just at this time conceived the project of writing a book; and it was thus he announced the project to his friend. " Ptupert ! " said he, as that languid individual "dragged his long length" into the snug little parlour which Adolphe especially called his own — " Eupert ! my dear fellow ! I am very especially glad to see you at this moment, for I have just decided a question which has for some time been working in my brain . . . . ' To write, or not to write, that is the question.' And I have, within the last ten minutes, made up my mind in the affirmative. Bupert ! I am going to write a book." " I am very glad to hear it," replied Eupert, with a languid smile. " And what is the subject ? " *' The title is to be ' East and AYcst ; or, ]\reditations on the Days that are Gone, and the Days that are to Come.' > >> " A very pregnant theme," rciDlied Eupert, gravely. '' How clo you mean to treat it ? " '"' Tlic answer must be ratlicr long, and very pedantic," re- joined Adolplie. *' It must be treated traditionally, historically, crilically, and prophetically." Rupert looked at him earnestly, and something like a gleam of awakened interest seemed to flash across his countenance for a moment. " Comprehensive, beyond all Cj[uestion," he returned, with a smile, somewhat less languid. "What subject is there, relative cither to Earth or Heaven, which may not fairly find its place under such a title ? " ''True, Eupert! Perfectly true! And why should we not write it to2,-ether ? I should never have conceived such an idea, had not the Schwanberg library been within reach. The good old baron will trust mo with his volumes more freely than I should trust him with the inferences I may chance to draw from them. The prophetic pages, Eupert, might make him wince a little." "Xo! " replied the librarian, the transient gleam fading from his countenance, and a look of the deepest dejection taking its place. "If he believed in your prophecies at all, Adolphe, he would place their fulfilment at too distant a date for the chance of it to give him any annoyance." The look and the words together made a nearer approach to the forbidden theme than anything which had passed between them before ; and Adolphe thought that it would not be very difficult, by pushing tins allusion to the baron's feelings a little further, to make poor Eupert lay before him the most sacred secret of his heart. Eut Lucy had so earnestly begged him not to do this, and, in fact, he had so explicitly promised her not to do it, that he very honourably resisted the temptation, and sufLcred the con- versation to settle itself on the books which he should first wish to borrow. Count Adolphe was quite in earnest when he announced this intention of writing a book ; and being in earnest, he was by no means likely to set about the undertaking negligently. It might be very truly said, in the most important sense of the phrase, that Eupert had taught Adolphe to read ; and the result of this teaching was every year becoming more and more apparent, more and more decided. Count Adolphe was by nature a man of clear, vigorous, and healthy intelit-ct j but had he passed the last ten winters of his 328 gehthude; oU, young life in the salons and boudoirs of Vienna, he would not now have been contemplating a work stretching from east to west, and embracing such bold meditations on the days that are gone, on those days which are yet to come. As it was, however, he was by no means unfitted for the task. It may occasionally happen, that meditations fairly deserving the epithet of deep thinking, may arise spontaneously in a healthful and active brain, even when unaided ; but such meditations are marvellously nourished and strengthened by the constant com- panionship of thoughtful books and thinking men; and Adolphe was in a great degree what the Schwanberg library and his friend Rupert had made him. And Eupert still proved himself the same ready helper now, and the same earnest and helpful friend ; but he was no longer the same sympathising fellow- student ; and though all the materiel for this great work was collected and arranged under his direction, and by his assistance, poor Adolphe very soon became aware, that though his learning, and even his reasoning powers, were present, yet that the spirit was absent. This discovery put a very speedy stop to the literary labours of the young Count. The original idea of such an undertaking probably owed its birth to the notion that Rupert might be led to take such an interest in it as to conquer the languor which seemed to have taken possession of his mind, as well as of his body. Eut it took a very short time to convince the ambitious young author that if he laboured at all, he must labour alone ; and, worse still, that if he submitted a deeply meditated page of the most original thinking to his friend, he would have forgotten -■ the beginning, before he reached the conclusion of it. Adolphe's literary enthusiasm was by no means ardent enough to resist such a check as this ; and the enterprise was quietly abandoned without a word being spoken to explain, cr even to announce this change of purpose. But the employment which had been furnished by preparing notes and references for this mighty undertaking, had sufficed, while it lasted, to keep Count Adolj)he's mind so constantly occupied, as to render it a very easy matter for him to keep his promise to Lucy ; for not only had it prevented his dwelling upon the much-changed aspect of his friend, but it so far occupied Rupert himself, as very naturally to suggest the idea that his condition was improving, and that what- ever might be his malady, whether of mind or body, he was better. Rut scarcely had the ambitious young author resigned himself FAMILY PBIDE. 829 to his disappointment, and recommenced his former hahits of reading, instead of writing, than it really seemed as if this change had wrought a sudden and most complete cure in the health of his friend. If he had heen better before, he was well now ; and so sudden and so striking was the improvement, that he positively began to think that he must himself have been in some degree the cause of the heavy oppression of spirits under which his sensitive friend had been suffering. ' ' Lucy ! I do believe I have found out the real source of Paipert's malady, and what is infinitely more important, I think he is cured ! " " I am very glad of it," replied Lucy, with a heightened colour, and a happy smile. ^' jS'ay, my dear, I don't see why ijou need blush about it," returned Adolphe; "though perhaps, when I have told you all, you may be of opinion that / have cause to blush, though you have none. I have made no secret to you of the book- writing vision which has passed over me, but yon do not know the whole history of it. To the best of my recollection, this nervous malady (for such it certainly was) began to show itself immedi- ately after my father left home, and it was very soon after this, if you remember, that Eupert first began to droop, and show evident symptoms ; first, of declining spirits, and then of declining health. You may remember this, but you cannot remember, because I took care that you should know nothing about it, that just at the very same time I was brooding by day, and dreaming by night, of my ridiculous project of writing a book. Did I ever talk to you about it in my sleep, Lucy ? " "Certainly not," she replied; "or if you did, my dear," she added, "it must have been in a very gentle voice, for it never waked me." " I am thankful to hear it," resumed Adolphe, very solemnly ; " for had it been otherwise, I might have brought a nervous fever upon you, as well as upon poor Rupert." " But how is it possible, Adolphe, that your notion of writing a book could have given Eupert a nervous fever ?" she replied. " It might have produced that efi'ect upon yourself; but I really doubt if his sympathy could have gone to such an extent as to cause him a nervous fever." "That is only because you don't know to what an excess I tormented him, poor fellow ! " replied her husband. " The proof that I am right, Lucy, may be found in the fact, that when I ceased to expatiate on my grand theories, and set him to work on gehtuude; oil, the mattcT-of-fact process of looking out books for mo, and marking any particular passages which, he thought might be useful, he almost immediatelv began to look better." "Ecally!" said Lucy, gravely. "That is very remarkable." "Decidedly, it is very remarkable," rejoined her husband; " and so remarkable, that it seems strange you should not have observed it. Did you not observe that the last time we dined at Schwanberg ho was vastly more cheerful and conversable than we have lately seen him?" "Yes, I did perceive it," returned Lucy; "and if I did not say anything about it, the reason, probably, was, that I thought his improved looks, and greater cheerfulness, might be only acci- dental. It might have been produced, you know, merely by the circumstance of our dining there." " It was more likely to have been produced by the circumstance of my having ceased to plague him about my confounded book," said Adolphe. " Dut, my dear child, the improvement you remarked tlien, is not worth mentioning in comparison to what you may see now. And I can explain the reason of that, too ; though the doing so, gives a painful pinch to my vanity. But the real truth is, Lucy, that I announced to him in good set terms, a few days ago, that I had abandoned my writing scheme alto- gether ; and I give you my word of honour, that I have never seen a melancholy expression upon his features since." " Well, Adolphe ! " replied his wife, with every appearance of being perfectly satisfied, " I am sure you will easily forgive and forget the pinch to your vanity, and only remember the comfort of seeing poor, dear Eupert look like himself again." CHAPTER LI. The return of the widower Count von Steinfeld to his paternal mansion was still delayed ; and as a beautiful autumn was begin- ning to fade into something very like gloomy winter, both Count Adolphe and his young wife began to think that the wide old house, with its multitude of useless rooms and long galleries, would be but a melancholy winter residence ; and the more so, as Lucy was not in very strong health, and quite unable to enjoy ITAIIILY PETDE. 33 1 the riding and walking, wliioh. constitute so lai'ge a proportion of country amusement. The old Count was at Yienna, and as he had more than once expressed a very earnest wish that they should join him there, Adolphe began to think that it would he both dutiful and agreeable to comply with his request. Upon the arrival of a letter in which this proposal was very strongly urged, and backed with the assurance, that he had just seen excellent apartments, amply sufiicient to accommodate them, at no great distance from his own ; the last shadow of reluctance at the idea of leaving the home he loved, seemed to vanish from the mind of Adolphe, and he said, "Lucy, I should like to go, and I should like to show you Yienna. Do you think you are well enough to undertake such a journey ? " "Adolphe ! " she replied, " if you really wish to go, how comes it that you have never told me so before ? I quite agree with you in thinking that this grand old mansion will be much less agree- able in the winter than the summer. And as to the journey, I think it will do me a great deal of good. All the country is new to me, and I don't want to travel through it full galop. Why did you not tell me before, Adolphe, that you wished to go ? " "Because I knew that in that case you would have said yea, however much you might have preferred saying nay. It is only since the arrival of this last letter, that I began to think that you would really like it too." " You are an accurate observer, my dear Adolphe. It is only since the arrival of this last letter, that I have o-ealhj wished to go. You will not, I presume, be much surprised when I tell you that I have a very great affection for the Baroness Gertrude ; and my affection for her will prove a great deal more constant than yours did ; for I am quite sure that I shall never be cured of it, not even if the old baron, as in your case, were to quote the 'Almanack de Gotha' to me, in proof that I had no right to love her at all. In short, Adolphe, she is my only real sister, and if she were my twin, I do not think I could love her better. But you look as if you did not comprehend why this sisterly affection should influence my wishes respecting the going to Yienna, or remaining here." " Then my looks are very honest lool>:S, Lucy," he replied, " and they speak the exact truth. I do not see what this very natural and praiseworthy affection has to do with our complying with my father's request." Lucy looked at him earnestly for a moment, to ascertain whether his total ignorance of her wishes were real, or feigned j oo 32 GtRiETJDE; on, but she speedily became conTinced that there was no feigning in the matter, and that if she wished to be understood, she must explain herself distinctly. ''The truth is, Adolphe," she said at length, ''that there is nothing in the world I should like so much as taking her with us." " Take the Bareness Gertrude to Vienna, and leave the baron without her?" exclaimed Adolphe, in unfeigned astonishment. " My dearest Lucy ! I should be delighted to let you have your wish gratified, if I belieyed it possible ; but I feel about equally certain, that neither the father nor daughter would consent to the separation. I should have thought that you must have known as well as I do, that the baron was never separated from her for twenty-four hours together." " Yes. I know," replied Lucy, coloming ; " I know perfectly well that they are devoted to each other. Eut, perhaps, you will not think me so um^easonable, when I tell you that Gertrude is in great want of the services of a really skilful dentist ; and Vienna, you know, is famous in this respect. j\Iadame Odenthal says, that her only chance of saving one of her beautiful front teeth, which has a very threateaing spot upon it, is by going to Vienna, and having it properly attended to." " Well, dear wife, I leave the whole affair entirely to you," returned Adolphe ; "I am sure I need not tell either you or Gertrude, that I should be delighted to have such an addition to our party. Eut when did you first form the wish of taking her with you, Lucy ? Has this defect in her splendid teeth only been cliscbvered now ? " " You mean to allude to my indifference about going to Vienna at all?" returned Lucy. "Eut I can easily explain that, Adolphe. From your father's first letter on the subject of our I'oining him, I thought he was inviting us to take up our abode in the same house with him, and I could not think of taking the liberty of proposing an additional guest. Eut this last letter says, you know, that he has seen apartments that will suit us ; and as this, of course, indicates a distinct residence, I can have the great delight of my friend's society, without producing any inconvenience to him." " That is quite true, Lucy. And as houses are often said to be elastic in accordance to the wishes and will of the mistress, I have no doubt that you will find means to accommodate our fair friend, although my father's letter only states that these apart- ments will suffice for us." FAilILT PRIDE. 333 '^ 'SVhcve there is a will, there is a way," replied Lncy, gaily. *' I have no doult that we shall make ourselves exceediugly comfortable." " And pray, my dear, do you mean to undertake the task of proposing this startling scheme to the baron ? " he added. '' Yes, Adolphe ! " she very boldly answered. *' I do not mean to insinuate that he is as much in love with me as he was with my sister Arabella," she continued; "but nevertheless, I think I have influence enough to obtain his consent to it." " I should not be at all surprised if he were to propose to go too," rejoined her husband, with a very comic expression of dis- may on his countenance. " Set your heart at ease on that point," replied Lucy, laughing heartily,^ *' if he were to hint at such a proposal, I would tell him candidly that yon were of too jealous a disposition to make such a scheme desirable." '' And Pvupert ? what will reconcile poor Eupert to such a barbarous proposal?" said Adolphe, very gravely. "You are one of the kindest-hearted little angels in the world," he added; *' but surely you are very thoughtless ! " '' Eemcmber our resolution, Adolphe," returned his wife. *' Eemember that we agreed not to interfere in any way between them in reference to their supposed attachment. If the invitation I wish to give Gertrude is, for any reason, such as it would be painful to her to accept, be very sure that she has savoir faire enough to decline it, without betraying to me any secrets which she may wish to conceal." '' Set off, then, and make the proposal," said Adolphe, seizing the bell-rope. ''I am going to order the carriage for you at once, Lucy. You are such an impetuous, self-willed little creature, that it is lost labour to talk common sense to you. But I confess I shall feel considerable curiosity to learn the success of your enterprise. Shall we have a bet, Lucy ? I will bet you five to one that the baroness declines yoiu' invitation. Will you take it ? " " Yes ! " she replied, promptly, but immediately added, with a considerable augmentation of colour, "no, I will not make any bet upon the subject. If Gertrude refuses to go with us, the disappointment will be quite mortification enough for me, with- out my losing a bet." Ko farther time was lost in discussion. Horses, carriage, bonnet, and cloak were all promptly supplied, and the young Countess set off on her expedition. 334 GERTurDE; os, The reader is already too well aware of the sincere auection which subsisted between the Baroness Gertrude and the Conntess Adolphe, for it ta be at all necessary that I should, describe at any great length the scene v»'hich passed between them upon this occasion. It was very soon evident to the kind-hearted Lucy that her friend was very well disposed to accept her invitation ; but they neither of them forgot that whatever readiness there might be on the part of Gertrude, she was not sufSciently a free a^ent to crive a definitive answer before she had consulted her father. " Go to him, then, immediately! " said the eager Lucy, '-'and let me know his reply before I return home." Gertrude shook her head. She had been too long accustomed to the slow and ponderous movements of her father's mind, to wish that her friend should remain waiting for the result. " But Adolphe will be so much disappointed if I return to him before the question is settled ! " exclaimed Lucy. " Let me wait," she added, coaxingly. " Here are books enough, without going beyond your sofa, Gertrude, to amuse me much longer than it is possible your father can detain you, while he is weigh- ing the comparative advantages of saying yes or no." But the Baroness Gertrude probably knew considerably better than her friend, the length of time which it was not only possible, but probable, her father might take before delivering his answer, or, at any rate, before there was the least chance of his having said all that he might wish to say on the subject. After fondly and very gratefully embracing her, therefore, she saw her drive from the cloor, before she turned her anxious and not unembar- rassed steps to the apartment where her father was sitting. Father Alaric and the backgammon-board were both ready for use before him, but both were immediately dismissed as soon as Gertrude made her appearance, the baron condescendingly bend- ing his head to his anointed friend, as he hinted to him that if he wished for an interval of holy meditation in the chapel of the castle, he could not find a better opportunity for it ; adding, *' I will let you know, my good father, by the entrance of one of my people into the chapel, as soon as I find myself again at leisure to receive you." iiZLiLY rrjDE. 335 CnAPTEPv LII. '' I AM going to fisk a very great favour of you, my clear father," said Gertrude, Lending over him, "but I feel quite sure you Avould grant it, if you could understand how much I wish lor it." " Then I am sure I shall not refuse it, my dear," said the old gentleman, kissing her. " Sit down in your own place here, close to me, and tell me what it is." " You are always so kind to me, my dearest father," resumed Gertrude, " that I do not much fear you will refuse me, but yet I think that it is possible you may feel surprised at my request, for it is one quite unlike any which I ever made you before. I want you, dear father, to consent to ray going for a few weeks, or it may be for a month or two, to Vienna, with the Count and Countess Adolphe. She is very anxious that I should go with her, and I must confess that I do feel a very great wish to go." " And it is very natural that you should wish to see such a metropolis as Yienna, my dear child," replied the baron, who, to say the truth, was so constantly in the habit of admiring and approving every word his daughter uttered, that he would have experienced great difficulty in finding any fitting phrase which could have expressed a difierent feeling. " I told our friend, Lucy, that I knew you were too kind to refuse me," returned Gertrude, affectionately kissing his fore- head. "To be sure," said the old man, pondering, "it will seem rather strange to me at first, Gertrude. But as you will be stay- ing with the Count and Countess von Steinfeld, you will not re- quire such a suite as was necessary when we made our excursion, to Paris. You will not think it necessary to be attended by my secretary?" Poor Gertrude coloured violently ; but it mattered not, for the eyes of the meditative baron were fixed upon the carpet while deciding in his own mind the equally important question as to the possibility of her also dispensing with the services of Madame OdenthaL But all his anxiety upon this really very important question was speedily removed by Gertrude's laughing gaily, as 336 GEnxrvrDE; on, slie replied, ^'"No, no! clear papa! I must have no suite of my own, you know, if you trust me to the protection of our clear Countess." " Then you do not wish to take Madame Odenthal with you, my dear ? " said the baron, with very unwonted eagerness of manner. *'It would be quite impossible to think of it," replied his daughter, very gravely, and in a tone which plainly indicated that such a proposal would be a breach of etiquette. " If we decide, my dear father, that the Countess von Steinfeld is a proper chaperone for me, my taking any one else in the same capacity would not only be unnecessary, but uncivil." "I daresay you are right, my clear. Ladies understand things of this nature very much better than gentlemen. Then you do not propose, my dear," he continued, "to take any of my people with you, excepting your own maid?" " ^ay, papa, I do not even propose to take her. I shall be w^aited upon entirely by that excellent person whom the Countess calls 'jN^urse I^Torris.' I have taken a great affection for her., And besides, I do not think that there will be any room for Teresa." *' As to all that sort of thing, my dear child," returned the baron, ' ' I shall by no means interfere, for I consider you to be a much better judge of such questions than it is possible for me to be. But there is another point, my beloved child, upon which I feel that it is my especial duty to speak. Though I am quite aware," he continued, with great dignity, ''though I am per- fectly aware that jiersons of my rank arc, generally speaking, much longer lived than the great majority of ordinary individuals, yet I am, nevertheless, not insensible to the fact, that I myself, in common, however, with emperors and kings, am growing old. *' Old is, indeed, a word." he resumed, after allowing himself a short pause for reflection; ^' old is a word which ought pro- perly to be only applied to persons of inferior station ; at least, it does not recur to my memory, that I have ever beard such a phrase as ' great old man,' whereas ' poor old man ' is perpetually repeated. But, nevertheless, though I am, I trust, in no way ungrateful to Providence for the many special blessings graciously bestowed on ^nysell', and to the class whereunto I belong, it would partake of the nature of falsehood, were I to deny that I am conscious of increasing age. It is this consciousness, my beloved Gertrude, which causes me so cordially to approve the plan you now propose. I am perfectly aware that your position in life is FAMILY rrjDE. GO 7 siicli as to render the great retirement of my ancestral castle ob- jectionable, if not varied by occasional absence, but I am fully aware also, my dear child, that I owe it to myself, and to my exalted station in life, not to expose my health to any unneces- sary risk ; and for that reason I am extremely well pleased that yon should take advantage of the opportunity now offered you, of seeing Yienna, and all the splendour of the court and capital, without my risking my health to obtain it for you." Long as this speech was, Gertrude listened to every syllabic of it with pleasure, and a pleasure, too, that was quite unexpected. She knew her father's unbounded indulgence too w^ell, to expect any very vehement opposition to her wishes ; but his declaring himself so cordially pleased by the scheme, was certainly beyond her hopes. Having again embraced, and thanked him cordially for his ready acquiescence in her plan, she was about to leave him ; but he stopped her, by saying, " You must not go yet, my dearest Gertrude ; I have more to say to you, and that too, on a subject most important. Y^ou will, doubtless, easily guess my dear child, that I allude to the probability of your being addressed, it may be by many persons, with proposals of marriage. AYe must, doubtless, both of us, be aware that this subject has been made painful to us by the disgraceful conduct of an individual whose name has never, I believe, passed our lips since we turned away from the city which he disgraced by his residence ; and I only allude to him now, in order to account for the wisli which I am about to express to you, and that is, that you would make me a solemn promise not to receive, or listen to proposals of marriage from anyone, however high his rank, or however large his revenue, without first referring him to me. Y^ill you consent to give me this promise, my dearest Gertrude ? " It was not till after a momentary silence, that this appeal was answered. The eyes of Gertrude, which had before been affec- tionately fixed on the face of the baron, now sought the ground, and her colour was again very perceptibly heightened. " Do you fear to give me this promise, my dear child ? " said the old gentleman, looking at her with great surprise. '' jSTo, father! no ! " said she, as if suddenly recovering from a fit of absent musing. " I have no such fear ! and I do promise you, and very solemnly too, that I will not listen to any proposal of marriage from anyone, however high in rank, or however rich in fortune." " I^ut do not mistake me, my dear child," returned the fond e-"^ 3 GElllEtDE; OE, fatlier, drawing her tenderly towards him ; " you must not sup- pose, Gertrude, that I am so unreasonable as to wdsh that you should always remain single ; but whenever the important event of your marriage does take place, it must not only be with my consent, but with a very perfect assurance on my part that the individual is worthy, in all respects, of the honour and happiness to which he aspires." *' I have given the promise, dear father, and I consider it as a very solemn one, that I will listen to no proposal of marriage." " Unless backed by my consent, my dear Gertrude, that is the condition upon which I ask for your promise ; and depend upon it, ray consent will be only given upon a full knowledge that the bii-th, fortune, and character of the individual arc such as to justify his addressing my daughter." A silent kiss was the only answer given to this important assurance ; and then she said, " I must leave you now, my dear, kind father, because I have promised my friend Lucy not to keep her in supense, but to dispatch a messenger to her as soon as I had received your answer." *' Quite right, my dear, quite right; I do not wonder that she should be anxious for my decision. It will be no trifling addition to the consequence of the young Countess von Steinfeld, that she should be accompanied to court by the daughter and heiress of Earon von Schwanberg. Eut I wish that your note should con- vey to her the assurance, that I know no other chaperone to whom I would so willingly trust you." This message was worth another kiss, and it was paid ; but Gersrude had still to be detained a few minutes, while the baron inquired whether ITadame Odenthal had been made acquainted with this intended excursion ? "Oh, no, papa! " replied Gertrude, with great sincerity; *'I had no wish to name it to her, till I had your permission to con- sider myself as one of the party." " You were quite right, my dear, as, in fact, you always are, Gertrude ; a pre-eminence, under the blessing of heaven, we owe to your so decidedly inheriting these qualities of my character which are to be considered as the special mark of the race from which I have sprung. Few daughters, especially while still so young, have ever accorded so perfectly in opinion with a father, " as you do with me. That this is the effect of the immediate in- tervention of Providence, it would be a sin to doubt ; and it is one of those especial manifestations of the Virgin's favour, for which I have instructed Father Alaric to return especial thanks. fa:j:ily pride. 339 Xow, then, leave me, my noLle Gertrude, and let Madame Odenthal be made to understand that I wish for, and expect, her immediate presence here." Had not Grertrude known her father as thoroughly as in truth she did, it is probable that she might have been tempted to re- lieve her over-full heart, by communicating to her ever-loved Madame Odenthal the expedition which she had in view ; but this would have been defrauding the baron of his promised share in the business. The contrast between his vast conceptions of his own magnificence, and the miniature nature of the nutriment with which he fed it, was often very ludicrous. The being the first to whom all news was communicated, and all gossip reported, ranked very high among the privileges which he enjoyed ; and the having to announce to Madame Odenthal the news of Gertrude's proposed excursion, made him feel much as a pompous Minister of State might do, if announcing to the cabinet news that was not only important, but of which he was the sole repository. Gertrude's first care was, as she had truly said it would be, to dispatch a note to her friend Lucy, communicating the very satis- factory result of her petition to her father ; and ha'sing done this, and ascertained that Madame Odenthal was still with the baron, she turned her steps towards the library. CHAPTER Lin. It is probable that the Baroness Gertrude expected to find Hupert alone in the library, and if so, she was neither disap- pointed nor surprised. He was seated in his accustomed chair, and at his accustomed table, but in all other respects, he was as unlike the Ilupert of former days, as the bright sun rising amidst the radiant splendour of a summer morning, is to the same orb when sinking into the clouds and darkness of a winter night. As she opened the door, he started, and turned round, and for a moment remained without rising, probably in order to ascertain, beyond the reach of doubt, that no one accompanied, or was immediately about to follow her. But, before she had advanced 23—2 340 GEnTnrDE; oe, three steps into the room, the metamorphosed Paipcrt was at her feet. "You have seen him, my Gertrude? You have told him of your wish? " he said, looking iu her face with an aspect as nearly approaching adoration as '' any mortal mixture of Earth's mould " could reasonably wish to inspire. *' Yes, dearest Eupert ! " she replied. *' Leave has been asked, and granted — most kindly granted ; and, so far, all is well. But I almost begin to doubt my own courage, Eupert ! How can I bear to leave you all ? . . . My poor, dear father ! He is getting both old and infirm ; and how do I know — how do I ever dare to hope, with such sanguine security, that I shall ever see him again ? How can I leave him ? How can I leave you all ? " As she uttered this, her head di'ooped dejectedly on her breast, and she burst into tears. ** You should not attempt it, my beloved Gertrude," he replied, " were your friend Lucy less devoted to you, or even if she were less urgent in her entreaties that you should accompany her. Everybody, as she truly says, has been remarking that you do not look well, Gertrude ; and change of air and scene, you know, is universally considered as beneficial to the health. Lucy will be a true sister to you, and my friend Adolphe, who does not yet know how much of his 'Almanack de Gotha' adventure he owes to you, will be all kindness ! Think of all this, sweet love, and of fifty other reasons besides, if we had but time to rehearse them, and you will become better reconciled to the excursion." *' You are a man, Eupert, and a very wise one ; and I (Heaven help me ! ) am only a woman, and not wise at all. iN'evertheless, I will really and truly try to behave as well as I can." Having said this, as cheerfully as her trembling voice could be made to utter it, she sat herself down on the sofa, and made Eupert place himself beside her. " My dear father, and your dear mother, Eupert, are holding a conference, which, I daresay, will last a good while, so I think you must prepare to hear a little more of my moaning, because the opportunity is so favourable for it. Just think, dearest friend, of all that I must leave behind ! What will become of me when I have no longer the power of seeing you, and hearing you repeat again and again that you have always loved me, even through the long years during which my morning and evening penance was ever and always the repetition of the killing words — ^he loves me not ? ' Who knows that I may not fall back into the same mournful monody ? Perhaps, Eupert, I may repeat it fj'om the FA5IILY rrjDE. 341 mere force of habit And who huows, clearest, but I may- die, listeninG; to mv own wailiuo: ? " She looked pale, and her eyes were full of tears ; and yet there was something almost playful in the manner in which "^she thus exaggerated the doleful anticipations of the future. But, neither in jest nor earnest, would he permit them ; hut painted with so much touching energy, and so much tender truth, the improve- ment of their mutual condition since the blessed accident of Miss Arabella's love-fit had opened the way to mutual confidence, that, before Madame Odenthal re-entered the library, he had brought her to confess that, notwithstanding her meanings, she was very- much happier now than she had ever been before, during the whole course of her life. JS^or did her naturally firm spirit again fail her. Madame Odenthal seemed, fortunately, very much to approve her taking this excursion. She had recognised so many excellent qualities in Lucy (which, with insular partiality, she was pleased tocall ''perfectly English''), that she declared she knew no one with whom she could see her set off on an excursion with more entire satisfaction. " It is very right and fitting, my dear," said the good woman, " that you should see a metropolis so celebrated for its beauty and fashion as Vienna ; and I really think it is about equally fitting that your good father should not again be tempted to leave the peculiar habits of life to which he has been so long accustomed, and every variation from which is, I know, a source of positive suff'ering to him. He married a lady so very much younger than himself, that he was for many years considered to be a man much younger than he really was; and, naturally enough, he seemed to" fall into the same pleasant mistake himself. But now, my dear Gertrude, he certainly begins to be conscious that he is an old man, and very evidently prefers staving at home, to coino- abroad." » & c, _''And you, my dear maternal friend, will, I well know, con- trive to make that home so happy to him, that he will not miss me so much as he would have done in former days, when our greatest mutual delight was riding together. I have heard him say repeatedly, within the last few months, that he did not think that he should ever mount again," replied Gertrude. ''And what do you mean to do about Teresa, my dear?" said Madame Odenthal, with a look and voice that manifested consi- derable interest in the question. '*Is it your intention to take her with vou?" 342 GEiiTr.uLE; OE, ''I rather think not," replied Gertrude, carelessly. ''I really do not think I shall want her. Madame do Steinfeld assures me that the old servant who has lived with her so long, is a most accomplished lady's-maid." " Indeed, I think you have decided very wisely, my dear," was Madame Odcnthal's reply. ''Teresa," she added, "is in many respects a very good servant, hut I cannot deny that she is a great gossip, which is just the very most disagreeable thing that any visitor can take into a family." "Yes," rexDlicd Gertrude, after the silence of a moment; *'I certainly think she has a strong propensity to idle talk- ing." At this point of the conversation, Gertrude took up a book which lay near, and soon appeared to be completely occupied by it. For a few minutes she was allowed to do so without inter- ruption, but then Madame Odenthal called her attention, by saying, "Then I suppose, my dear, that you intend to dismiss Teresa before you leave home ? " Gertrude took a moment or two to think before she replied, and then she said, " l!^o ! I do not think I shall like to do that, Madame Odenthal, because I do not think she deserves it. She has been a very good servant to me, and I scarcely know how I can send her away without injustice." " I am afraid that she may say something reproachful and vexing, when you tell her that you are going to Vienna, but that you do not intend to take her with you," replied Madame Oden- thal. " I wish you would let me perform the task of telling her this." "You are very kind, my dear friend, to volunteer thus to per- form a task which, I am quite aware, must be disagreeable ; and, I fear, it is very selfish in me to accept your offer. Nevertheless, I do accept it, and I confess it is a relief to me to be spared this task." " It shall be done at once, my dear Gertrude," replied Madame Odenthal ; "for the news of your intended departure will be sure to fly from Schloss Steinfeld to Schloss Schwanberg with wonder- ful rapidity ; and it is far better that she should learn the whole arrangement from me, than that she should come to me to make inquiries concerning it." And, having said this, Madame Odenthal impressed a fond kiss upon the forehead of Gertrude, and left her. The place chosen by the kind ambassadress as the scene of this interview, was the bed-room of the young baroness, for she knew FAMILY rfilDE. 3-13 that a bell rung from thence, wonld immediately bring Teresa. And so it proved. '' Is my lady here ? " was the question by which the conversa- tion opened, and it was certainly asked in a tone which seemed to imply that if she were not, Madame Odenthal's right to ring the bell was a very doubtful one. "No, Teresa. The baroness is not here," replied the dame de compagnie, seating herself on the sofa which stood at the bottom of the bed; '*it is I who wish to speak to you." "Well, ma'am," returned the waiting-maid, assuming an atti- tude that seemed prepared either for going or staying, as the case might be. "I rang for you, Teresa, that I might let you know that you must get ready a moderate-sized travelling-trunk, and fill it with all that will be most wanted for the baroness on her first arriving at Vienna, where she is going with the Count and Countess Adolphe von Steinfeld." " My lady going to Vienna, and not to tell me of it, herself! " exclaimed Teresa, with an aspect which very evidently threatened rebellion ; "I don't believe a word of it ! " Madame Odenthal never forgot that she was the humble sister of the humble Father Alaric, and, moreover, the pensioned com- panion of the Baroness Gertrude ; but she remembered also, that such authority had been delegated to her, as ought, if properly exercised, to keep the household in good order, without giving their young mistress the trouble of interfering in the matter ; and it was, therefore, with the tone and manner of one who expected to be obeyed, that she replied to this uncivil speech, " Leave the room, Teresa." The waiting-maid was not without her good qualities, but a gentle temper was not one of them ; and she signified her inten- tion of remaining where she was, by stoutly saying, "I shall do no such thing." ISo person, holding the situation which Madame Odenthal filled in such an establishment as that of Schloss Schwanberg, could have retained her authority so long, and at the same time so smoothly, had she always been as ready to resent a hasty word, as she showed herself on the present occasion. " You will not only leave the room, but the house, Teresa, if you speak to me in that manner," said Madame Odenthal, with great sternness. " I am to be left in charge of the household," she added ; " but I should scarcely accept the office, if the servants behaved as you are be- having now." ii GERTRUDE ; OT., *' At aiiyrale, you need not. trouble yourself by any fears about my behayiour," replied Teresa, with a saucy sneer ; " for wher- ever my lady is, there, of course, I shall be too ; and Yienna is far enough off for us both to snap our fingers at the other, with- out any danger to either of us." "Eut you are quite mistaken, Teresa," replied Ivladame Oden- thal, "if you suppose that your young lady intends to take you with her to Yienna. She has just told me that she shall do no such thing." " Then they must find bars, and bolts, and chains, too, if they intend to keep me here till she comes back. I don't deserye to be treated so, and I won't bear it," returned the deeply-incensed waiting-maid, with a yery alarming augmentation of colour ; " and since you haye chosen to make yourself the go-between, I advise you to tell my young lady. . . . Eut no ! I will not send her any message at all. It is a great deal better that I should see her myself. She neyer used to treat me in this manner, and therefore I am quite sure that I haye got some ill friend at court." " Y^ell, then, Teresa, go to her," said Madame Odenthal, yery quietly. " I assure you I haye no wish to preyent you ; on the contrary, I shall much prefer it. Only I hope you will not for- get yourself, and speak disrespectfully to her, for my lord the baron will certainly hear of it, if you do." " Trust me, Madame Odenthal, for knowing how to manage my own affairs," replied Teresa. " You need not give yourself any trouble about me. If my lady does go to Yienna, you may depend upon it that I shall go too. . . . And if I do 7wt, why then you may depend upon it, that I won't stay half-an-hour in this stupid old castle after she has turned her back upon it." " Perhaps you are right, Teresa, though what you say would haye a better effect if your manner were more civil. Nothing would be more easy, you know, than for you to come back after her return, if she wishes to haye you ; and, to tell you the truth, I would much rather you did not remain here during her absence." Although there was nothing like positiye anger in. the tone and manner in which this was said, it had so much less of friend- liness than was usual in the kind-hearted English-woman's accustomed mode of addressing the servants, that it really seemed as if she Avished to have a little fracas with tlie yexed and dis- appointed Teresa. For a minute or two, Madame Odenthal, who had risen from FAMILY rrjDE. 315 her cliair, stood tesiilc tlie door, as if waiting for her ; iipoa which, Teresa, rather fiercely knitting her brows, said, '' I don't want yonr hclj), Madame Odenthal. ... I suppose my lady and I may speak together, withont being watched by you ? " " I am not quite sure that I think so," replied the old lady, gravely. " The Baroness Gertrude," she continued, ''has never been exposed to any impertinence from her servants, and I do not wish that she should see such looks, or hear such language from you, as I have now done." " And how will your being present prevent it ? " returned the angry Teresa. " Do you think the sight of you will put me in good humour ? Eut I will prove to you at once, Madame Oden- thal, that I am not afraid of you, so come along this very present time. The sooner the question is settled, the better." Madame Odenthal said nothing in reply, but proceeded im- mediately to the room where she had left the baroness, and was followed by Teresa. If it was the wish of Gertrude's maternal friend that this inter- view should terminate in the final dismissal of the offending; waiting-maid (and the very unusual severity of her manner to- wards her seemed to indicate that such was indeed her wish), the scheme answered perfectly ; for the temper of the unlucky souhrette was already so much irritated, that the quiet avowal of Gertrude that she certainly was going to Yienna, but certainly did not intend to be accompanied by her, was more than she could listen to with decorum, and the interview had not lasted long, before she was desired to leave the room. The unfortunate young woman stood for a moment with her hand upon the half-open door, as if expecting a recal ; but no recal came, and poor Teresa had to announce to the next assem- blage of the household in the servants' hall, that her mistress was going to set oif for Yienna without her ; and what was, if possible, more extraordinary still, she had given her warning for good, and all for no other reason in the wide world, except that she had not treated old Mother Odenthal as much like an Arch- Luchess as she chose to be treated. That she, probably, had herself been treated rather more harshly than she really deserved, may be inferred from the fact, that a very handsome gratuity was left for her in the hands of Madame Odenthal, which that kind-hearted person secretly doubled from her own purse, and then presented to her with many kind wishes before she left the house. *' AYell, I won't denv that the old Englishwoman has a kind 346 GEETHrDE; oe, lioart at "boUoni," was tlie commentary of the Gx-wailing maitl, whoii discussing; this tcimination of her service with tlie house- liold, before taking leave of them; ''but one might tliink she had been a spoiled child, she is so unaccountably whimsical. She docs not seem to know her own mind for two days together." CHAPTEE LIY. Ko journey could be freer from accidents, or contretemps of any kind, than was that of the Count and Countess Adolphe, and their friend the Baroness Gertrude ; and thcv reached Vienna on the third day after setting off, with as little fatigue, and as much gratification from fine weather and fine country, as reasonable people could desire. They found that the Count von Steinfcid had said no more in praise of the agreeable apartments he had secured for them than they well deserved ; nor was the addition of Gertrude to the party productive of the least inconvenience ; for the Count Stein- I'eld, like many others, was strongly persuaded, that tJie J^nglish w^ere considerably more difficult to please in all matters of per- sonal accommodation than all the other nations of the earth put together, and had therefore, in choosing apartments for his pretty daughter-in-law, Lucy, so far exceeded what was needful for her, as to provide what was amply sufficient for her,' and for her friend likewise. "Who can enter Vienna for the first time, and not feel a sen- sation of delight at its aspect ! To Adolphe, of course, it was not new, but it was the metropolis of his country, and he was as much delighted by the effect it produced on his fair companions, as if he had himself been looking at it for the first time. He was delighted too at all the attentive preparations which had been made for their reception, and not a little pleased like- wise, at perceiving that the depression of spirits under which his father had laboured when leaving home, had altogether vanished; for no widowed father of a married son ever looked more young, handsome, and dehonnain', than did the Count Steinfeld, when he came to welcome the travellers on their arrival. It speedily became evident that he expected the young party FA^riLY rr.TDE. 347 wlio had joined lilm to enter with zeal, at least equal to his own, into all the fascinating dissipations of that prettiest of capitals ; but in this he was mistaken. The ladies drove about with great perseverance, saw everything, and admired every tiling ; but when Lucy's gay and handsome young father-in-law began to talk of introductions, presentations, and visitings, which were immediately to take place, and which would be followed, he assured her, by his having the happiness of seeing herself, and her beautiful friend, become the most admired ornaments of the courtly circle to which he meant to have the honour of intro- ducing them, he was startled and astonished by the assurance that they neither of them intended to enter into society at all. So astonishing, indeed, did this determination appear to him, that it was some time before they could persuade him that they were really in earnest ; and it was only when his son hinted to him, that he was again in hopes of his wife's presenting him, at no very distant day, with an heir to the family honours and estates, that the juvenile grandfather could be induced to with- draw his opposition to so melancholy a proposal. But even after he had made up his mind, as all noble fathers- in-law do upon such occasions, that it was perfectly right and proper the Countess Adolphe should stay at home, and take care of herself, he still expressed his hope of being permitted to intro- duce some eligible chaperone to the Baroness Gertrude, who might have the honour and happiness of presenting her to the Empress, and to all other ladies of high distinction in Vienna. But to this very kind and very proper proposal, the Baroness Gertrude would not listen, assuring Count Steinfeld, that her present visit to the capital was not intended to be one of gaiety, but of friendship ; while at the same time, she begged him to believe, that, under other circumstances, she should be most happy to put herself entirely under his guidance. '' Well then, my fair baroness," replied the amiable widower, *' I will look forward with hope to some future time, when I may meet you here under circumstances more favourable ; but, mean- time, I fear that you and dear Lucy will find me a very useless personage, for, at present, I cannot command my evening hours, having fallen into such a routine of engagements, as would make my withdrawing myself from society unpleasantly remarkable." This candid avowal was, of course, replied to in a suitable manner ; and before they had been many days at Vienna, the trio found themselves passing their days very nearly as they might have done, when reciprocally meeting in their respective castles. SiS gehtrude; or, Tholr mornings, however, had considerably more variety ; for not only were there many interesting drives, but there were fine pictures, rich museums, and noble libraries, where they often enjoyed themselves for several hours together, without running the very slightest risk of being interrupted, for these precious repositories arc not the most fashionable resorts in Yienna. In Kict, the life now led by these much-attached country neighbours, was very much like what it might have been, had they remained at home, at least as far as society went ; for the Countess Adolphe, though well inclined to make light of all evils, whether physical or moral, could not conceal, either from herself or her two watch- ful companions, " that she was not quite so strong as she used to be." Had she never known the misery of losing a child, her usually gay spirits would not so easily have deserted her ; but, as it was, the companionship of the much stronger-minded Gertrude, and the constant and assiduous attention of her tridy devoted hus- band, were giTatly needed, and of the most essential benefit to her. Fortunately for them all, the accounts from Schloss Schwanberg were everything that the anxious Gertrude could wish them to be. The baron was in as perfectly good health as his three-score years and ten could possibly permit him to be ; Father Alaric, it was evident, was always at his post, both in the chapel and out of it ; and as for jMadame Odenthal, her pleasant narrative letters were so charming, that their arrival was almost as satisfactory, Adolphe said, as a gallop from Schloss Steinfeld to Schloss Schwanberg could have been. In respect to Eupert's part of the correspondence, it must be confessed, that his dispatches partook so much of the style and character of love letters, that it would be indiscreet, and in very bad taste, to examine them ; but, nevcrthelogs, it cannot be doubted that they very successfully fulfilled the purpose for which they were written, for as surely as the post conveyed one of them to the hands of Gertrude, so surclv did she exhibit a very visible improvement both in health and spirits. It must be confessed also, however, that our very domestic voung trio had another source of interest, I will not sav amuse- nient, because under the circumstances, it would not be decorous so to describe it ; but the facts of the case must be stated, because tliey eventually became of considerable importance. It was Lucy, notwithstanding the languor and low spirits to which she occasionallv gave wnv, who was the first to observe a fa:mily TEiDE. 349 consielei-able cliaiige in the general appearance and manner of Connt Stcinfeld. It has been already stated, that he was a very young father for a married son; but now this incongrnity had become very greatly more remarkable. In truth, there would be little or no exaggeration in saying, that the eifect produced by his general aspect was such as might have easily led to the belief that he was the younger man of the two. Adolphe, though by no means slovenly, was very decidedly careless in his dress. Eew hard-reading men are coxcombs in their attire, although they may occasionally be detected in bestowing rather an overweening attention to the attire of their books ; but Adolphe was not a coxcomb, even here. He was a genuine hard reader, though scarcely conscious of the fact himself; for he still knew much too little of the general state of his fellow creatures in this particular, to be at all capable of forming a just estimate of himself. The daily, or nearly daily, visits of his elaborately attired father, might have gone on for years, without its ever occurring to Adolphe to remark, that his lather was one of the youngest, handsomest, and best-dressed men of his acquaintance, had Lucy not pointed out the fact to him. On one occasion, when the Connt made his paternal visit oi route to a dinner-party, the contrast between the father and son struck her so forcibly, that, after he had bestowed his customary salute on her fair cheeks, and departed, she said, with one of her quizzical little smiles, "I almost wonder, Adoli)he, that you should like to see your wife kissed by such a very handsome, elegant young man I " "Handsome, elegant young man? " repeated Adolphe, looking infinitely puzzled. " Who do you mean, Lucy? "Who is it that kisses you?" " The person who kisses me, Adolphe — I don't mean yourself, remember — is by far the handsomest and best-dressed man of my acquaintance," she replied; "and, moreover, he does me this honour, every time I see him." " You mean my father," said he, laughing ; " and he certainly does look very young and handsome, considering that he is the father of such an uncouth old son as I am." " Why, really, Adolphe, I do think it is very kind of him not to be ashamed of you," she replied; "ashamed of your looking so exceedingly old, I mean. I really think that he could not have quite given up flying kites and spinning tops, when he married. Depend upon it, my dear, he looks more fit to be G50 GEr^TiiUDE; oi;, a Lridcgroom no^Y, llian lie did tlieu. Dou't you tliiuk so, Adolphe?" '•' ^Xonsensc, Lucy! A biidcgToom ? who could have put such stuff iuto your head ? Kot Gertrude, I am sure, for she never talks nonsense ! " he replied, with a very awful frown. '•'Don't look so very fiercely angry, husband, or you will make me cry," returned Lucy. "I won't say another word about bridegrooms," she addect, in the very meekest accent possible, '^ if you will only make one innocent little wager with me. Will you bet me a solid, honest, English sovereign (I don't mean our well-beloved queeu, but only one of her beautiful little golden portraits), will you bet me a sovereign, Adolphe, that your father is not a bridegroom before this day six months ? " Adolphe scolded a little, but he laughed a little too ; and at last the bet was made, and moreover, the bet was won by the sharp-sighted Lucy, or rather, the bet was honourably paid, though not accurately won ; for Count Steinfeld's marriage with a, pretty young lady some half-dozen years younger than his son, did not take place till six months and seven days after the said bet had been registered in Lucy's pocket-book. CHAPTER LY. ilEAx^vnTLE the important hour approached, which was so anxiously looked forward to, and which, it was hoped, would repair the heavy loss which poor Lucy, with all her gaiety, had never ceased to deplore. It unfortunately happened, that when this anxiously looked-for hour arrived, the Earoness Gertrude was too unwell to bestow on her beloved friend the personal attendance which her heart dic- tated. Happily, however, there was not much time for regret of any kind, for Lucy presented not only one baby to her delighted husband, but two, a boy and a girl, both strong, both healthy, and both greatly more likely to live than to die. The contrast between the hours which precede such an event, and those which follow it, is too familiar to all the world to make any description of it necessary ; even the gallant and handsome young grandfather, notwithstanding his approaching change of fa:mily rpjDE. G31 condition, seemed conscious of this, and looked as well' pleased and happy as the rest of the party ; although Lucy, with her accustomed sauciness, declared that though this handsomest of all her young men acquaintance behaved so admirably ttcII upon the occasion, she could not help fearing that the having to announce two grand- children to his alnanced young bride, must have been extremely disagreeable. It was not very long after this happy event had taken place, that a letter from ^Madame Odenthal gently hinted to Gertrude that her father began to be anxious for her return ; but the hint was so quietly given, that had not there been a postscript to the letter, it is possible that the receipt of it would not have greatly hastened their movements. The postscript said, "I should be very sorry, dearest Gertrude, that what I have written should hasten the homev.^ard movements of your friends, but should a lengthened stay at Yienna be their purpose, I will make the journey myself, under the protection of the faithful Hans, and I think that between us we shall be able to conduct you home very safely." This (feminine) postscript settled the business at once ; neither of the party had, in fact, any great wish to remain longer in Yienna; and Gertrude's reply to Madame Odenthal assured her that they should meet in a very few days, without her enduring the trouble and fatigue of a long journey for the purpose. Two babies and their two nurses formed, however, an addition to the party of a kind which prevented its being quite as rapid as it might have been without them ; and Gertrude, on arriving, found that she had, for the last hour or two, been rather anxiously C3;pected. One carriage, containing Lucy and the children, drove to Schloss Steinfeld, the other, with Gertrude and Adolphe as her escort, took the road to Schloss Schwanberg. Their journey had been without contreteuqys or accident of any kind ; but, neverthe- less, the heart of poor Gertrude beat so vehemently as she approached her home, her father, and Paipert, that it was not Yvdthout considerable effort, and considerable difnculty, that she sustained the appearance of composure. On the steps which led up to the principal entrance to the castle, stood Eupert, precisely where he had stood three years before, waiting their arrival on their return from Paris. AX the moment that Gertrude first caught a glimpse of him as he thus stood, pale with intensity of emotion, she was herself so nearly overcome bv the same cause, that she shook from head to foot- 352 geuteude; or., Eiit tlie one quick backward glance which memory took to the moment when she had hist seen him standing exactly in the same place and in tlio same attitude, did more towai\ls reviving her exhausted spirits, than all the volatile essences which ever were applied to the most sensitive nostril. The difference between the present and the past rushed upon her memory like a gleam of bright sunshine into a darkened room ; and utterly forgetting the fears which had tormented her, lest she should find her aged father changed, or in any degree the worse for her long absence, she uttered the name of " Rupeet " in accents Avhich i^roved plainly enough that, for the moment, at least, the feeling of very exquisite happiness was predo- minant. i!^ever was a genuine emotion of sympathy more clearly demon- strated than in the manner of Count Adolphe's taking leave of his late guest. He uttered no word of salutation to Eupert, no word of farewell to Gertrude ; nay, he did not even shake hands with her, for he had a sort of instinctive conviction that she would have been quite unconscious of it, if he had. All he did in the way of leave-taking, was to spring out of the carriage the moment it stopped, take her in his arms just in time to prevent her throw- ing herself head foremost after him, then spring into it again, and drive off. It is a most certain fact, that during many hours of this home- ward journey, the thoughts of Gertrude had been very much occupied by the idea of her reunion with her father ; but now that she had reached her long-distant home, he was, for a short interval, utterly and entirely forgotten. The same little parlour Vthich had sheltered her during the first agitating moments after her return from Paris, sheltered her again now. But oh ! the blessed change ! She no longer shrunk from seeking E-upert's eye, from fear that she might find it averted ; but, for a moment, the happiness of which overpaid (as she often declared in after- life) all the misery she had endured, for one short dear moment, she rested her head upon his bosom, and whispered a word or two of seemingly very moving tenderness in his ear. But this one dear moment passed, she lingered not for the en- joyment of a second, but exclaimed, " My father! and your dear mother, too, Paipcrt ? " *' They are together," he replied; "but I cannot, I dare not, lead you to them." " i^o, Eupert, no ! It is far better that you should not. You are not by any means trustworthy at this moment, rortimately, fa:mily pride. 353 I know my way, and therefore do not need your assistance. Stay where you are, and lock yourself in, if you please, for you are not at all fit to be seen. Alas ! my Eupert ! you are a very poor specimen of a philosopher ! Eut, if I mistake not, Shakspeare tells us somewhere, that there never yet was a philosopher that could endure the toothache patiently, so I suppose you must not lose caste for looking so very little stoical at this moment. Shut yourself up ! shut yourself up, Eupert, and behave better when we next meet." AYith her heart still beating joyously, and her cheeks flushed with emotion, Gertrude sought her father, and was not only most joyously welcomed, but highly complimented on her improved looks. '' Vienna seems to have agreed with you, my dear child, still better, if possible, than your own free native air. But I have no doubt, my beloved Gertrude, that with your peculiarly high- minded views respecting noble ]'ank, and noble races, you must have felt in another sense, as if you were in native air. There is no capital in Europe where high birth so instantly finds its proper place, as in Vienna. J^o mistakes there, my dear ; neither equipage, jewels, nor anything else that wealth can give, can stand in the place of high birth, at Vienna. I am sure you must have observed this with pleasure, my dear Gertrude." " The Countess Adolphe was not very well, papa, and did not go much into society," replied Gertrude. ''I am sorry to hear it," replied the baron, very solemnly. ''IN'ot that I mean to blame her," he continued; ''for her situation, probably, rendered it desirable that she should not fatigue herself. Eut it is probable, my dear Gertrude, that though she has allied herself to a family of very considerable distinction, she may not be herself aware of the real importance to the highest class of society in Vienna which your appearing among them would have been. You know what our alliances are, and have been, Gertrude, though this rather low-born young Englishwoman does not ; and I cannot but think, my dear child, that you scarcely did justice to yourself, or to them, by remain- ing unknown among them." **I did not think it would have been right, papa, for me to let her pass her evenings alone. I went to Vienna more for her sake than for that of the society I was likely to find there. Their being all personally strangers to me, would have made my going among them alone rather embarrassing to me." ** Perhaps you are right, Gertrude. Perhaps you are right. 24 354 geetpxde; oe, I can perfectly well imagine, that your feelings on the subject would have been very different, if I had been with you," replied the baron. *'You must have often felt that you wanted me, Gertrude." *' I can truly say, my dear father," returned Gertrude, with a heightened colour, '* that no single day has passed during my absence, in which I have not thought of you." During the whole of this conversation, the hand of Gertrude had been fast locked in that of Madame Odenthal ; but it was perfectly well understood in the family, that when the baron was holding a conversation with his daughter, he did not approve of its being interrupted or broken-in upon by any " member of his household," which was a phrase that comprehended Madame Odenthal and her son, as well as the footmen, waiting-maids, and grooms. But Gertrude now begged permission to retire, for the purpose of changing her dress, which she averred, would be a very great refreshment after so dusty a journey ; and as Madame Odenthal very respectfully attended her, as a matter of course, the two friends soon found themselves clasped in each other's arms. Madame Odenthal looked w^istfuUy in the face of Gertrude, as if she longed to ask her a hundred questions ; but instead of ask- ing her any, she only threw her arms around her again, and pressed her to her heart. "And my father?" exclaimed Gertrude, after the pause of a moment; *'tell me everything about him. Has he been con- stantly well ? Has he, on the whole, been in tolerably good spirits since I left him ? " *' Indeed, I think I may -very honestly answer y^s," replied Madame Odenthal. ''His garden walks are certainly much shorter than they used to be, but with this one exception, I really think he is as well as I ever saw him. But come back with me this very moment, dearest Gertrude, or he will lose all the little patience he possesses." The pleasure caused by the reunion between the father and daughter, seemed equal on both sides ; and most assuredly, Ger- tiiide had never before been so gay, so delightful a companion, as she was now ; nor had her father ever before appeared to enjoy her society so much. But, nevertheless, it was a very obvious fact, that the Baron of Schwanberg Tvas growing old, and it was fortunate both for him and his daughter also, that the daily intercourse between them and their Steinfeld neighbours seemed, by degrees, to become the only visiting they required, to make FAMILY rPJDE. 355 them perfectly happy. All the noble, but scanty, neighbourhood, of course, came to pay their compliments to the Baroness Ger- trude on her return from the capital ; nor was Lucy, notwith- standing her not very clearly understood English origin, welcomed home with less of cordial kindness ; but when these visitings had been duly returned, and were then followed by dinner invitations from all the mansions within reach of them, it speedily became evident, that both the ladies had lost their taste for nsual hospi- talities. Nor is it, therefore, very extraordinary that they should both be accused of giving themselves airs of stateliness and superiority, in consequence of their three months' sojourn in the metropolis. It was in vain that Gertrude pleaded her father's increasing infirmities, which rendered his leaving his own arm-chair a pain- ful effort to him ; for there was scarcely a single individual in the whole neighbourhood who was not ready to testify and declare that he had never been better, or more fit for society in his life. 'Not did Lucy and her stay-at-home husband fare at all better, when the former pleaded her daily increasing averseness to leaving her darling babies ; and the latter ventured to confess that he had not courage to contest the point with her ; so they were both accused of giving themselves intolerable airs, and of having been too much delighted with the dissipations of the capital, to retain any relish for the friendly hospitalities of the rural abode to which they had returned. Even the friendly Doctor Nieper, though the last man in the world to increase the circulation of an opinion so unfavourable to his friends, had very decidedly strengthened this impression. Eor one of the ladies of the neighbourhood wishing to ascer- tain, if possible, whether there was anything like truth and sincerity in the cause assigned by the Countess Adolphe von Steinfeld for staying at home, took an opportunity of asking the good doctor, whether these precious twin children were in any danger of following the one that she had lost ; upon which he answered with the genuine satisfaction of a truly good-hearted man, that he was happy to say, that he had never, in his whole long life and practice, seen so magnificent a pair of twins. ''Babies are always anxious joys," he added, '' and particularly so, it must be confessed, in the case of twins ; but I certainly see no reason whatever to fear for the life of either of these, at present." So it was agreed by general consent among the provincial aris- tocracy, that the two friends should be permitted to shut them- 24—8 356 GEETErBE; OS, selves up alternately in each other's strongholds, as much as they liked. Kor did any of the individuals concerned repine at the fate thus allotted them. Nothing pleased the old baron better than having Lucy and the jiursery transferred to Schloss Schwanberg ; and as Gertrude became every day more and more averse to leave her father, it was there, for the most part, that the two united families might be said to live. The library, too, had its share in strengthening this arrangement. Gertrude had not left off buy- ing books ; and remote as they might seem to be from the scenes ■where human intelligence is the most actively at work, they were more completely an couraiit da Jour than many who bustle about in the midst of them. CHAPTER LYI. There was not a single individual of the party who formed this isolated group, the baron and Madame Odenthal included, who would not have been ready to declare, if questioned on the subject, that "let but the same endure, they asked not aught beside." But this same, natural, simple, and unambitious as it was, nevertheless, was not destined to endure long. The first distant sound that disturbed it came from Yienna, and reached them in the shape of a report that the Count von Steinfeld was im- mediately about to unite himself in the bonds of holy wedlock with the young and fair Countess Wilhelmina Carolina Eodol- phina von. Kronenstern. Then came a letter, written in the most affectionate style, from the Count himself, not only officially stating the same im- portant fact, but adding thereunto the information that it was the intention of himself and his bride immediately to take up their abode at Schloss Steinfeld, which he earnestly requested might be made in every respect ready for their reception. Though Lucy's prophecy had been at first considered as a joke, rumour had for some time been busy upon the same theme, so that the announcement of the fact did not take them by surprise ; FAMILY rr.iDE. • 357 but, DGvorlliclcss, the quiet Gstablishmont was put into cousidcr- alile confusion by the efforts made, by every part of it, to be, as directed, in all respcctvS ready for the announced arrival of the bride-folks ; and it was immediately felt by them all, that one of the two happy homes which of late had, in a great degree, been in common to the two families, could continue to be so no longer. But in order to make this inevitable change as little painful as possible, Madame Odenthal and Gertrude between them, con- trived to prepare something so like a nursery for Lucy's twins, as might render Schloss Schwanberg as much like a home to Adolphe and his wife as Schloss Steinfeld had ever been. And this precaution proved a very essential blessing to them all ; for the gay AVilhelmina was much more disposed to re- member that she was herself a young bride, than that her hus- band was a grandfather. The return of the Count himself to his own domain, in the character of a bridegroom, was, of course, a signal for a repetition of all the hospitalities by which that of his son, when under the same circumstances, had been welcomed rather more than two years before ; but what had appearc^d very amusing to Lucy when she enacted the part of bride herself, assumed a very different aspect now. She and her beautiful sister had been welcomed almost like ** foreign wonders ; " and their bad French, and worse German, had been listened to, not only with indulgence, but, positively, with admiration. Eut now there was not a distinguished family in the neighbourhood that was not readv to avow its conviction, that a bride from Vienna was a much more valuable acquisition to the neighbourhood than it was possible a bride from London could be. As to Gertrude, the excuse afforded by the fact that her father no longer Avent into company . . . never, in truth, leaving the house except for a short drive in a close carriage, was exceed- ingly welcome ; and her declining all invitations in order to avoid leaving him, was a fact almost forgotten amidst the un- wonted gaieties of Schloss Steinfeld. And, assuredly, a more domestic partnership was never insti- tuted than that which now united Gertrude and Lucy, under the hospitable roof of Schloss Schwanberg. Though the nursery of the twins, in the mansion of the bride, was not wholly deserted, it was very neaiiy so ; for it was im- pGSsibJ<» +^ deny the fact that Gertrude, Eupert, and the library, O ."T 58 gehthude; os, formed altogether an attraction that very decidedly overpowered that of all the festivities that were to be found elsewhere. The increasing infirmities of the baron began, however, to dis- turb the serenity with which this was enjoyed ; and at length his strength failed him so completely, that he could no longer leave his room. Eut the master-passion failed not with his failing strength. While supported in his arm-chair, and then upon his sofa, and at last, when stretched upon his bed, his head, or heart, or what- ever the seat of pride might be, still remained true to the feeling that had predominated throughout his life. "Eemember, my beloved Gertrude," he said, re-said, and said again, at least a score of times before his death — " remember that my obsequies must be in most respects, I think I might with propriety say in all, totally distinct, and different, from those of inferior persons." *' Your instructions, my dearest father," she tearfully replied, *' shall be exactly obeyed in every respect." " I know it, my beloved child ! " he replied again and again to the oft-repeated words, but never as if he thought that his injunctions could be given, or her obedience promised, too often. *' I know it, my noble-minded daughter ! You will never suffer your sorrow for our comparatively short separation to interfere with your performance of the duties which will devolve upon you at my death. Our opinions upon all points connected with our exalted station are, and ever have been, so exactly the same, my dear child, that, I confess to you, I consider your having re- mained thus long unmarried, as an especial dispensation of Providence. Had any reigning prince, or nobleman of the very highest rank, solicited your hand, Gertrude, it was more than probable that you might, by necessity, have been absent from me at this very important moment." *' I am, indeed, thankful, my dearest father," she replied, ** that I have formed no connection which should oblige me to leave you ! Let me but understand your wishes, and be certain that I will obey them." '' I have still much to say to you," he solemnly replied ; '' and I would wish our good Madame Odenthal to prepare me some restorative which I may take, from time to time,' while I am giving you my final instructions. I would spare you the fatigue of listening to directions which must, of necessity, be long, and which you may feel, also, to be melancholy, my dear child ; I would willingly spare you this, if I could, and make our good FA:.riLT PEIDE. ooO Paipcrt tlie cxcciitor of my last wishes. Eiit we know, my dear love, that the sort of intellect necessary for the full comprehension of such a subject, is not to be looked for in any class inferior to our own. People of high station, my Gertrude, ought to live for posterity ; their m.anners, and habits of life, being the only safe standard by which those who come after them can be modelled. Nor is this all that we are bound to do for posterity ; we ought not only to live, but to die also, in such a manner as may serve as an example for those who follow us." The good old man had been so accustomed, through his whole life, to utter long harangues, that he had, like many extemporary preachers, acquired a habit of pausing, as if to give his hearers time to digest what he had said ; and this skilful pause enabled him now to proceed, though in a voice considerably lower than usual. " I have a high opinion of Eupert," he resumed ; '' indeed, I have a very high opinion of him. I think his abilities must bo quite out of the common way, considering the rank in which he was born ; but, nevertheless, my dear Gertrude, I do not believe him to be at all more capable of comprehending my wishes on this important subject than of managing an army, or of ruling a kingdom. jMy wish is . . . " — but here he became so evidently exhausted, that Gertrude, in her capacity of nurse, insisted upon his taking a little refreshment, and, if possible, of composing himself, and endeavouring to sleep for a few moments, before he proceeded with his instructions, which, as he himself very justly observed, were only the more fatiguing in their deUvery, because he was so deeply conscious of their importance. J* J± ••» »•» •!• ♦^ Vr V»* V Tf Meanwhile, a very different scene was going on at Schloss Steinfeld. After having been exhibited in her bridal attire, at every mansion within visiting reach in the neighbourhood, the sprightly Wilhelmina made it clearly understood by her handsome bride- groom, that it was her inclination, wish, purpose, and intention, to give a series of fetes at Schloss Steinfeld, which should prove most satisfactorily to all the world that she was not unworthy of the flattering reception which she had met in the neighbourhood. IsTor did the handsome bridegroom appear in the least degree averse to this gay project ; and hospitable preparations of all kinds were accordingly commenced with great zeal from the garrets of the old mansion to its cellar, both inclusive. But, unfoi'tunately, the neighbourhood, though on the whole o60 GEETErDE; OE, very respectably aristocratic, was somewhat too widely scattered to be convenient for such an object, and in many cases, the per- sonages with whom the ambitions yonng bride most eagerly sought intimacy, resided at too great a distance to permit their returning home after a ball ; and therefore, whenever a ball, or even a sociable little waltzing party, was given by the dance- loving Wilhelmina, the garrets of Schloss Steinfeld were to be put in requisition as well as its cellars. Eut let it not be supposed that the brilliant and quick-witted bride ever di'eamed of lodging neighbours of sixteen descents in a garret. Assuredly no idea so preposterous ever entered her head. But if they were not to lodge there, somebody else must, or Steinfeld Castle could not be made to furnish pillows enough for its inhabitants. !N"ow, when Adolphe had brought home his young English bride (her forty thousand pounds sterling coming home with her), the handsomest apartments in the mansion had immediately been assigned to her and her husband, and these they had, of course, retained ever since. Moreover, the apartment which had been occupied by Arabella, and which had been selected not only as being second-best, but as being near her sister, had been appro- priated to the babies ever since the return of the party from Vienna ; nor had it been thought necessary to change the arrange- ment, because that portion of the mansion which had even been hitherto appropriated to the master and mistress of the family, was, of course, assigned to the Count and his bride on their arrival. But when the time approached for returning the festive hospitalities by which the Count and his young bride had been welcomed to the neighbourhood, it was discovered that it was absolutely necessary to invade the nursery apartments of the twins, in order to accommodate the guests. The announcement of this necessity was not in any way agree- able to Lucy. The garrets might be very good garrets, as the gay AVilhelmina repeatedly assured her they were ; but never- theless Lucy did in no degree approve the proposition of lodging the precious babies therein. But Lucy had too much good sense, as well as too much good temper, to make a family quarrel on the occasion. She knew, moreover, perfectly well, that "if he lived to be a man," her darling boy would some day be lord of the castle, despite all the beautiful brides that her youthful father-in-law could bring down upon them .... but the question was, what was to become of the dear babies now ? Hud it not been so perfectly obvious to FAMILY TEIDE. 361 everyone about him that the Baron von Schwanherg was posi- tively dying (though he still found it very difficult to believe it), the natural remedy for this garret scheme would have been obvious enough, as nothing could have been more easy than the sending the two children to occupy the rooms at Schloss Schwan- berg which had been long ago allotted to them. 33ut she knew that Gertrude would neither like to rouse him from his half lethargic state, in order to ask his permission for doing this, nor yet would she choose to take advantage of this same melancholy lethargy, in order to smuggle them into the castle without his knowledge. Lucy had, however, the comfort of knowing, that her dearly- beloved Adolphe would not only tell her exactly what it was best to do, but that his constant good humour would enable him to take a more patient view of the case than she could do with- out him .... for in her heart she was very angry indeed, and therefore, like a good wife, and a wise woman, she dutifully determined to make over all her sorrows to her husband, leaving him at perfect liberty to do battle, or to yield, as he thought best. The task she thus assigned him was not an easy one, and so conscious was he of this fact, that he looked an older man by half-a-dozen years while he was meditating upon it, than he had ever looked before. But notwithstanding both his bookish abstrac- tion, and his constitutional good humour, Adolphe had sober judgment enough to perceive that Lucy's question, " What had we better do, Adolphe ? " was an important one, inasmuch as it did not concern the present moment only, but might have an influence on their domestic comfort for many a long year to come. At the time of Adolphe' s marriage it had been settled, without the slightest doubt or difficulty on either side, that Schloss Stein- feld should be the principal residence of the young couple ; and though Lucy's ample fortune had made it an easy matter to them to change the scene whenever inclined to do so, they had never, as yet, considered any other residence as their home. But after very mature deliberation, Adolphe now began to think that this could be the case no longer ; and it was then, perhaps, for the first time, that he became fully aware that forty thousand pounds sterling might be a very important addition to the good gifts of a pretty wife, even if blessed with as sweet a temper as that of his Lucy. To have asked his bridegroom father to have made him such. 3G2 GERTr.rDE; ob, an allowancG as mlglit have enaljlcd liiiii to live clsewiiere, in a style bclittiug his rank and station in society, would have been very painful to him, and probably in vain, also ; for lie had never as yet heard any allusion made to the personal fortune of his youthful step-mother, and it was therefore certainly with more satisfaction than he had ever felt before on the same subject, that he now recollected how perfectly it was in his power to let his dear little wife choose a home for herself. Lucy was at first considerably more puzzled than pleased when Adolphe returned to her, after taking, as he said, a solitary walk to meditate, with a countenance much more indicative of enjoy- ment than of deliberation. Lucy could not look cross ; Kature had denied her the power ; but she certainly did look very grave, as he returned to her in her solitary houdoir, looking as blithe as a school-boy at the beginning of his holidays. "Oh, Adolphe! Adolphe! you have not been thinking ahout the dear children, I am very sure ! " she exclaimed, shaking her head. "At least you cannot have been meditating on the subject as seriously as I have done ; for the dif&culty only increases the more I think ahout it. Little Lucy has decidedly got a cold already, and I really would not have her taken out of her own warm room into that great wide garret for the world ! " "Lucy shall not be taken into that great wide garret, my dear," replied Adolphe, gaily; "nor little Adolphe, either. Eut I suppose you will not be terrified at the idea of my going there." "Terrified," repeated Lucy, looking, if possible, graver than before. " Terrified is certainly a very strong word, and I don't suppose that I could truly say that I should be terrified, Adolphe, if you were to pass a night in the garret. But I will tell you fairly and sincerely that I shall not approve it at all." "It will only be for one night, you know, Lucy, and if I do happen to sneeze, it will not much signify, will it? " "I hardly know how to answer you, Adolphe," she replied, "because you are in jest, and I am in earnest. As to the mere inconvenience," she added, "I assure you that I could make quite as little fuss about it myself, as you can do, It is not the incon- venience. It is the .... the i)rinciple^ if I may use so solemn sounding a word without your laughing at me." " No, Lucy, for once in your life I will let you be solemn with- out laughing at you. On the contrary, I do not think you could choose a better word, and, like you, my dear, I do not approve the principle. liut though I can forgive your solemnity, I doubt FAMILY 1>ETDE. 363 if I can forgive your folly. Lucy I Lucy ! Lucy ! will you agree to our both following the example of your beloved Dogberry ? ^Vill you write yourself down an ass, and obligingly permit me to do the same?" "!My dearest, dearest Adolphe ! " she replied, with something very like a tear in her bright eye ; '' how I do wish you would be serious ! " "Serious!" he repeated, "which of us do you suppose to be the most serious at this moment? " " Why, Adolphe ! how can you talk to me so ? " she exclaimed ; "I really do not believe that you are exactly aware ichat we are talking about. It is about the health of the children, my dear Adolphe, that I am so anxious. I do not approve the Countess's proposal of removing them from their present warm nursery to the garret. Do vou think there is anything really ridiculous in that?" " JN'ot exactly ridiculous, Lucy," he replied. " Eut the question is but trifling, my dear, that is, speaking comparatively. What should you say, for instance, of its comparative importance, if I were to name beside it the question of whether you, and I, and our children, present, and to come, were from henceforth, probably for the term of our natural lives, to remain the permitted guests of our blooming step-mother ; or, that we were suddenly to turn ourselves to the right-about, and, dutifully asking papa's blessing, to march off, and find an independent home for ourselves, in whatever part of the world we might happen to like best ! " " My dearest, dearest Adolphe ! " exclaimed Lucy, clasping her hands, and positively trembling with eagerness; "are you really in earnest in saving- that such a delicious idea has ever occurred to you?" " Traitress ! " he replied, holding up his fist in a very threat- ening attitude ; "traitress! did such an idea ever occur to you, without yoiu' telling me of it ? " " Telling you of it ? " replied Lucy, with an air of very supe- rior wisdom. " Telling you of it, Adolphe ! Just fancy the daugh- ter of a plebeian English banker, telling the son and heir of an Austrian nobleman, that she thought the best thing they could do would be to run away from the ancestral castle, and its sixteen quarters, in order to amuse themselves by leading a sort of fancy life, heaven knows where ! " "You have put the case so well. Countess Adolphe," repli.ed her husband, "that I should not find a single word to say in reply, were it not for one trifling little circumstance. If the 364 GErvirvrDE; on, daughter of the plchcian English banker had chanced to have no marriage portion more ^^rccions than that appertaining to the noble Countess ^Yilhelmina von Steinfeld, I am quite ready to confess that the best, and perhaps the only course they could pursue, -^ould be to remain in the said ancestral castle, peaceably contenting themselves with whatever portion of it might be as- signed to their use. But as the marriage portion of the Countess Adolphe von Steinfeld for the time being happens to consist in English pounds sterling, instead of German armorial bearings, the case is different. Yon know more about living in England, Lucy, than I do, and I have no doubt yon will be able to tell me, with tolerable accuracv, whether the income arising from vour fortune would enable us to exist there with tolerable comfort?" "Exist there! Oh! my darling Adolphe ! would yon really consent to make the experiment? Exist? not a single comfort, not a single luxury that you enjoy here, shall be wanting there, Adolphe, save and except the pleasure of looking up at the great stone griffins over the gate, and telling your heart, with a com- placent smile, that they were stuck up there by your ancestors in the year one ! Adolphe ! Adolphe ! if you are in earnest, I shall be too, too happy ! I shall indeed ! I shall not know how to bear it." And so saying, the gay-hearted Lucy threw her arms upon the table, buried her face upon them, and began sobbing. *' My dear little wife ! " said Adolphe, throwing his arms round her, "I shall have to quarrel with you at last! AVhy did you never tell me, never hint to me, in any way, that you should be happier in your own country than here ? I give you my honour, Lucy, that I never suspected your having such a feeling." ''jS^or had I any such feeling," she replied, with great sin- cerity, ''as long as I believed that you preferred this home to every other. I daresay you will laugh at me, if I tell you that one reason for my never hinting at my occasional longings for a peep at Old England, arose from that sort of mysterious reverence which we feel for some of the mighty truths that we cannot un- derstand. If any one had asked me, why I preferred England? I could have answered by the commonest of all English words : I should have said, ' Because it is more comfortnlle ; ' but I never meditated, for a moment, upon your undoubted preference for remaining with your father, instead of having an establishment of your own (which I knew very well you could afford to pay for) ; never, for a moment, did my vulgar English thoughts glance FA:y:iLT PHiDE. 365 that way, without my f(>elin2: that I was totally unable to form a f;dr judgment on the subject; because I could not comprehend the exact nature of the attraction which kept you here. Eor I knew that nothing would be more easy than for you to pay your good father a yisit from time to time ; and, besides the Count himself, I could see nothing but the griffins outside the door, and your gay, young step-mother within, which you might not haye found elsewhere." This explanation, howeyer, on the part of Lucy, was so far satisfactory, that it produced a hearty laugh from her husband, though the said laugh was occasionally interrupted, for the pur- pose of assuring her that she had behayed exceedingly ill. Tlie discussion ended, howeyer, as most of their discussions did, in a yery perfect agreement of opinion on the subject before them. Moreoyer, it was agreed between them, ere they parted, that the precious babies should in no case be exposed to the doubtful atmosphere of the threatened garret, a danger which was easily ayoided by Adolphe's quietly taking up his quarters on the sofa in his wife's dressing-room, while the noble bed-room which had been appointed for him and his lady on their arriyal, was con- ycrted into a yery satisfactory nursery; and of this nursery it was decided, that she and the children should keep possession, till their newly-projected scheme of taking refuge in Englancl from the enlarged hospitalities of "Wilhelmina could be acted upon. CHAPTER LYII. The last scene of the august Baron yon Schwanberg's earthly existence was, meanwhile, rapidly approaching. Fortunately, howeyer, for the harmony of the Steinfeld festivities, his death did not take place till two days after the party assembled to par- take of them had separated ; and therefore the absence of Adolphc and his wife, who immediately quitted the house of feasting for the house of mourning, produced no discussion or objection of any kind. Gertrude had been to long prepared for this event for it to 3C6 GEF^ira'DE; oe, ovcrwlielm lier ; but, nevcrtlielcss, slio Mt it sevcrel}^, and, liko most otht.T people, probably, upon losing ouc3 whom they had dearly loved, aud v/ho had dearly loved them, she tormented herself not a little by dwelling upon all the circumstances in "which she had recently opposed his wishes though not avow- edly. Iter last consolation, under the weight of these painful thoughts, was the recollection of all the misery which she had inflicted upon herself in Paris, in order to obey and please him ; and if, at length, her sensitive conscience permitted her judgment to acquit her, it was only by the help of her strong conviction, that had such misery been repeated, her reason, or her life, or both, would have been the sacrifice. All that the most tender love, and the most genuine friendship, could ofl'er, in the way of consolation, was not w^anting to Ger- trude now. She deserved to be loved, and to be esteemed, not- withstanding these untov/ard features in her destiny, w^hich had maide her past life such a curiously-mixed tissue of right and "wrong. She had, in fact, been so placed, that no line of conduct "which it was possible for her to pursue, could have left her wholly free from self-reproach ; and gratefully did she listen to the rea- sonings of Rupert, which, without the aid of anything approaching sophistry, displayed to her very satisfactorily the undeniable truth, that by no other line of conduct could she have assured to her father the enjoyment and consolation of her presence, to the last hour of his life. It scarcely need be stated, that the presence of her true friend, Lucy, and the active co-operation of Adolphe with Rupert, in all matters of business, were blessings gratefully received, and fully appreciated. Rut as one of the most urgent of the defunct baron's dying commands concerning his interment, specified the absolute necessity of his being embalmed, according to the most approved receipt at present known to mankind, it "\^'as necessary that Ger- trude should remain in her dismal castle considerably longer than would otherwise have been necessary ; for he had exacted from her also the promise, that she would herself see him deposited in his grave, with as much of dignity as it was in her power to obtain at so great a distance from the capital. *'A11 this to hear, did" the poor tearful Gertrude ''seriously incline;" and she performed it too, by the active agency of Rupert, in a style which could not but have been highly gratify- ing and satisfactory to the spirit of the defunct nobleman, if, haply, it was "within reach to witness it. fa:j:ily pkide, 367 E'eithcr Aclolplie nor Lucy, auxiously bent as they were to ■withdraw themselves from the step-maternity of the brilliant "Wilhelmiua, could be induced to leave Gertrude till this stately pageant of her father's funeral was over; and even then, they felt that they would willingly have lingered with her still, had it not been for the persuasion that the most likely mode of obtaining a re-union with her, which they all hoped to render lasting, would be by setting off for England, while she was still engaged in arranging her affairs in the order in which she wished to leave them for the purpose of seeking a residence large enough to con- tain them all, till the heiress of Schwanberg had seen enough of this much-vaunted- English land, to decide whether it should be her permanent residence, or not. Tv^ithin a day or two after the funeral of the baron, therefore, the wandering pair, who did not as yet possess the shelter of a roof which they could call their own, set forth from Steinfeld Castle upon their long journey, the termination of which seemed as uncertain as that of our first parents, when they set forth with the world all before them ; nevertheless, Lucy declared that she did not feel at all as if she were leaving Paradise. Fortunately for Gertrude, Eupert's appointment of secretary to the baron had not been altogether a sinecure ; but, on the* con- trary, he had, ever since their return from Paris, been entrusted v>'ith all the business appertaining to the receiving rents, ordering repairs, and renewing leases, so that at the demise of their long- time landlord, the tenantry naturally applied to him for the arrangement of any changes which this event made necessary. 'Eo property could have been left in better condition or in every respect in better order, to render the succession to it easy, and without embarrassment or trouble of any kind ; yet, nevertheless, it did not take Gertrude any very long time to decide that, much as she loved the place, and much as she clung to the memory of both her parents, memories which every object in the neigh- bourhood suggested, it was not there that she wished to take up her rest. But ample pecuniary resources furnish a wonderfully efEcient assistance in all imaginable cases in which any alteration, or im- provement, of any kind is contemplated. The attachment which had long been growing, and strengthen- ing, between the laughter-loving Lucy and the philosophical- minded Gertrude, had become too powerful, and too important to both of them, for either to contemplate any manner of life which was to keep them asunder, without more pain than any existing 368 GEExrxDE; oe, circimistances seemed to call upon them to endure ; and if Ger- trude did not immediately announce her intention of leaving the dreary splendours of her castle, for an abode less vast and more cheerful, it was only because she would not decide what her own movements should be, till she had been made acquainted with those proposed by her friends. As little time as possible, however, was lost in deciding what these plans should be ; and when a letter reached Gertrude from England, announcing the important and very agTceable fact, that Adolphe and his Lucy had settled themselves in an abode of ample room, and accommodation of all sorts, to enable them to receive Gertrude and her retinue, till such time as she should have selected a home of her own ; a wonderful short delay was neces- sary before the heiress and her retinue were ready to set off on their long- contemplated journey to England. The preparations for their departure were doubtless made with more facility because their numbers were few, for the whole of the retinue permitted to attend my high-born, wealthy heroine, consisted of Madame Odcnthal and her son llupcrt. Madame Odenthal, indeed, did venture to suggest that Gertrude might find some inconvenience from not being attended by a more accomplished waiting-maid than she could herself hope to be ; but Gertrude assured her, in reply, that by mutually practising this finest of the fine arts upon each other, they should both speedily become sufficiently accomplished in it to perform all its mysteries to their mutual satisfaction. There certainly was a shade of sadness on the beautiful coun- tenance of Gertrude, as she drove past the gothic window of the chapel in which both her parents lay interred ; and for a few moments the travelling trio were very profoundly silent. But these few moments past, Gertrude's heart and head both told her that she belonged more to the living than to the dead ; and the long journey upon which they had entered was performed with so much more of pleasure than of pain, that had they been less anxious to meet what they all hoped to find at the end of it, they might have been tempted to wish it longer still. The careful and accurate instructions which they had received from Lucy, brought them at the end of ten days to a spot which, even had it not contained the living beings which their hearts most wished to me^t, would have a^ipeared to them all to look vastly likely a second Paradise. On a level spot, containing within its smooth expanse about fifty acres, stood a modern mansion of very goodly size, but FAMILY rrjDE. 369 wliic'h, wlicn compared to the mighty Schloss Schwauherg ^vhich they had left behind them, looked like a freestone toy. The level space on which it stood, was about half-way up one of the steepest banks of the river Wye ; but, being approached from behind, the first view of the sudden declivity produced the effect of a bold precipice, and the view commanded from its finely shorn lawn vras one afi'ording as fine a specimen of English river scenery, as it was possible for the eye to look upon. Kot to give an admiring and a lingering glance at this scene was impossible; but at the door of the mansion stood a group which caused even the strong-minded Gertrude to utter something very like a scream as she caught sight of it ; and as the equipage swept round the lawn to the portico, she could not resist the im- pulse which caused her to attempt, somewhat vehemently, to open the carriage-door, though, had she succeeded in doing so, the result would probably have been her falling headlong on the ground. Fortunately, this desperate attempt failed, and in another moment she was very safely in the arms of Lucy, while Adolphe, catching a baby from one of the nurses stationed at the door, placed it somehow or other on the bosom of the now weeping Gcrtradc, And then the whole party, propelled by a little gentle violence from Ptupert, was induced to enter first a handsome hall, and then a noble drawing-room at tlic further end of it, and there Gertrude, still pressing the favoured baby to her bosom, sunk down upon a sofa, and " tears began to flow." And now it was the turn of Adolphe to exert himself, in order to render tliis scene more perfectly intelligible to some of the parties concerned in it. The English nurse, however, who had been holding the babe when the travellers arrived, was not one of those whom it was his purpose to enlighten, and he, therefore, quietly told her to go to the nursery, where the baby should be brought to her pre- sently. On seeing tliis woman make lier exit, closing the door after her, Gertrude cast an inquiring glance round the room, and per- ceiving that only Adolphe, Lucy, and the babe, which she still pressed to her own bosom, were present, in addition to the travel- ling trio, she rose, and approaching Madame Odenthal, placed the infant in her arms. "Take her, my second mother!" she ex- claimed with deep emotion. ''Love her, and cherish her ! You 2j 370 GERinuDE; oe, may may do so without a siiadow of sclf-rcprcach ! I have kept my secret from you, mother, that you might bo innocent in all ■vrays! " * %\i * * * * Should any scrupulously correct persons honour this tale Tvitli perusal, and feel, notwithstanding their long acquaintance with Gertrude, any disagreeable uncertainty respecting some rather mysterious passages in her history, they are respectfully referred loathe first chapter of this work, which, being rightly interpreted, will solve all such painful doubts, although this "Almanack dc Gotha" may be the only one in which the authentic narrative therein recorded is likely to appear at full length. •■:. -::- %'.• •".• ^< ■» jjut there is a revolution, dearly beloved reader, which is steadily at work among us, the progress of which is not the less sure, because its onward movement is neither vehement nor noisy. AYe are all perfectly well aware that prosperous commerce, and successful industry, will often cause so near an approach between the toe of the commoner and the heel of the noble, as to run some risk of galling a kibe ; and this is a fact still more patent in our days, than it was vrhcn the keenest of all observers fii'st made the remark. Eut true as the remark was then, and more true as it is daily becoming, by the eager onward movement of this successful in- dustry, there is another cause at work also, which, I believe, is likely to become infinitely more effective in lessening the distances by which society is divided, than any which acquired wealth can produce. Kor is the lessening social distance its only effect. Social dis- tance may be lessened with very little chance of producing any feeling of equality as its result. Eut let the Earons von Schwan- berg, who make the real ''Almanack de Gotha" (not my alma- nack) their guide-book, let all such keep a sharp look-out upon the species of free trade in intellect, which is so very obviously threatening to set at naught the prohibitions of heraldic law- givers. The perils arising from a too close juxta-position between long- descended rank and newly-accumulated wealth, are as nothing when compared to the revolutionary influence of widely-diffused education. In proportion as that highest order of education -^yhicli develops PAltiLT rpjDi). S?l (lie iliinlcing powers of human beings becomes general, tlie effort to separate society into distinct social classes becomes more cliiB.- cult. The system of enlarged education, -vrhich is so evidently gaining ground among us, Trill do more towards lessening the inequalities of rank, than all the heralds Trill be able to withstand. Titles were abolished in Prance, yet no equality of condition ensued ; but let the son of a tinker, born with a powerful and healthful intellect, have that intellect fully developed by educa- tion, and the effort to keep him within the tinkering sphere will be as vain as the attempting to make a thorough-bred race-horse pass for a fitting bcai'er of a pack-saddle. THE EXJD. "W. H. S-MITII ..V: SO-V, PUIXTEas, IS3, SXrwAXD, DSDO^. THE SELECT LIBRARY OP EICTIOli PRICE TWO SHILLINGS EACH. ONE OF THEM. tBy Charles Lever. " Tlie noTels of Charles Lever, repub- lished in a cheap form, must prove most acceptable to a very large portion of the readers of works of fiction. There is no modern writer who has thrown so much of genial mirth, such native humour, such a collection of humorous incidents, into his stories. There is a raciness in its humour that we look for in vain in the crowd of novel writers of the present day ; and, combined with this native humour and ready wit there are so many life-like sketches of character, so many touches of a master's hand, that one does not so much read of, as speak to, and with the leading characters to whom the reader is introduced. The very mention of the name of Charles Lever calls up a crowd of old associations and acquaintances, the rollicking Harry Lorrequer, the dashing Knight of Gwynne ; the carefully drawn O'Donoghue, earring us back to the Ireland of half a century since ; and those curious, but yet real and life-like members of the Dodd family, and others, which have established for themselves an undying reputation in the world of light litera- ture." — Observer, THE O'DOl^OaHUE. By Charles Lever, Author of " One of Them," " The Daltons," &c. " The introduction of this beautiful and brilliant work into the Select Lieuaky is a healthy sign of the times, and speaks well for the sagacity and judgment of the eminent publishers, Messrs. Chapman and Hall. 'The O'Donoghue' is a tale of Ireland fifty years ago, and it is told with the charm of manner which, more than any other writer of the day, distinguishes Charles Lever. It certainly possesses all the elements of a good novel, combining graphic and life-like portraiture of per- sons, exquisite descriptions of scenery, vigorous and well-sustained narrative, a plot intensely interesting, and wonderful constructive power throughout. It is in- deed an admirable work, and we welcome it as one of the best that has hitherto appeared from the master hand of Lever." — Shrewsbury Journal. THE DlLTOl^S. By Charles Lea'er. 2 vols. " This work contains scenes from the late Italian Campaign, and from Mr. Lever's well-known talent for depicting stirring scenes and faithful portraiture of character, it is needless for us to say much. The author of ' Charles O'Malley,' ' Harry Lorrequer,'