CHAPTER II.
THE BIRTH-DAY.
"My lady!" exclaimed a bustling, good-natured little old body, entering the room, which Wilhelm Gottfried, Baron of Arnhiem—the Lady Isoleth's uncle and guardian—ever pleased himself with calling the Lady Isoleth's menagerie, because, forsooth, the little lady delighted herself with feeding and taming countless birds that had been brought from all the known quarters of the globe. "My lady," spoke she, "do you know that this is your ladyship's birth-day, that you this day have arrived at an age which behooves you to put away childish things, and take upon yourself the cares that belong—"
"You wise, dear little nurse! don't put on so much of the awful; don't talk of care, you make me shiver at the bare idea.
"Where the bee sucks, there lurk I:
In the cowslip's bell I lie,
There I couch when owls do cry,
On the bat's back do I fly,
After summer merrily,
Merrily, merrily!"
And thus merrily sung the little airy Ariel, dancing around the room, scarce touching the floor as she sung.
"Bless her light, little, happy heart! What a sin that love must come, and with love, the self-loving, proud husband, that will bend that bright will to his own; and then old age, and care, sure enough, and wrinkles—and then that light, fairy-bounding step will be slow and leaden, and that—alas! alas! that such perfect beauty—!"
"What is that you are muttering about, nursey dear? You must not let me see one sad look to-day, for am I not this day sixteen—bright, merry sixteen!"
"Yes, my dear lady, sixteen to-day—sixteen to-day;" and the little dame, recovered from her momentary sadness, gave her lady a mysterious, quizzical look, as she once more repeated, "sixteen to-day!"
"Well, dear nurse, what would you have me do, or what shall I leave off from doing, now that I have grown so exceedingly old?" asked Isoleth, smiling that precious smile of hers—ten thousand dimples danced around it—ten thousand loves nestled in each dimple.
"Sixteen to-day!" replied the queer little old body, with what she meant for a very significant look. "Your guardian, the noble Baron of Arnhiem, comes this day—"
"As he does every year to see me, dear nurse, staying several weeks, sometimes months, with me."
"He comes not alone this year, my sweet lady," added the little woman, looking still more significantly.
"I suppose we shall have my dear prim old maiden aunt of Hansfeldt, with her snuff and lap-dogs, or is it my dear, sweet, beautiful cousins Blumine and Alida? Tell me, nursey, if they are coming. You shake your head. I guess, then, my proud uncle and aunt of Allwrath, and my aristocratic cousins, their haughty sons and daughters?"
"None of them, sweet lady—that is, just yet."
"My beautiful, loving-cousin, Alice of Bernstorf, who has been living these six years alone and lonely in her castle with only her younger son and daughters. Is she or any of hers coming here again? And when will my cousins of Bernstorf return from those hideous wars? I have not seen them for so many years I should not know them."
"Now, dear lady, you are approaching nearer the fire, as the children say in the play."
"You dear, queer little old nurse, don't look so mystical and mystified, my circle of acquaintance, by reason of my father's will, is not so very extensive but that the roll might soon be gone through with. Come, unfold thy important, mysterious budget—who is it?"
"Who should it be, dear lady, but your noble cousin, Ferdinand, Prince of Bernstorf! My lady, there is a clause in your father's will, that you were not to know until your sixteenth birth-day, revealing a compact between your noble father and your Cousin Ferdinand, the reigning Duke of Bernstorf, that gave you as bride to your cousin, Prince Ferdinand Of Bernstorf. There, now, my lady, 'tis out. The secret has half-choked me these twelve years."
"Very kind and considerate in my father; but his child does not choose to become the bride of any one just yet, least of all of one old enough to be her grandfather."
"Old!" exclaimed the dame, throwing back her hands in amazement, "Old! why, my dear lady, he is a mere boy; he will be but twenty-eight—"
"Twenty-eight! and I sixteen! why they would have me marry my grandfather." And the little lady threw back her head, and with it its world of soft brown curls, and laughed in very glee.
"He will be but twenty-eight, two—no, three days after this coming Christmas. But, dear lady, do leave these screaming, noisy jack-daws and mackdaws, and come and let me dress you in the beautiful new court-dress your guardian sent you this morning."
"You naughty nurse! to abuse my beautiful birds. I have only one jack-daw, and these are my pretty West Indian macaws, not mackdaws, wise nursey. And those are my bright-eyed canaries, and that is—but you will not remember their names, although I have told them to you so often."
"I see some are blue, and some bright red, and I know that little Jenny, who helps you take care of them, loves them as well as you do. But will you not come now and try on your splendid dress? I would have you look your best and prettiest when your cousin comes."
"I know I shall not like him, and if I do not, my guardian will not force me to marry him."
"But your father's will—"
"I will not think of that now, nor will I dress, dear nursey. I will go ride my pony, and gather some of those wild-flowers my guardian loves so well." And away flew the bright, happy little maiden; she herself, of all the glad, sweet wild-flowers that grew among the shades of Fernheath, the gladdest, sweetest, merriest and wildest; and the one of all the rest her guardian uncle loved the best.
Little Dame Hildreth, while she flew about preparing for the reception of Baron Arnhiem and the prince, could not help sadly bemoaning the strange perversity of her young lady, in preferring birds and wild-flowers and ponies to court-dresses and husbands.
The Lady Isoleth soon forgot that she had arrived at the advanced age of sixteen, and that she had to put away childish things, and all about her father's will, and the awful prince. She rode her pony through the wood down to the sea; then ran a race with him upon the beach—the pony playfully allowing his mistress to win. She climbed the highest rocks in search of wild-flowers, and wove the sweet flowers into garlands; at length, recollecting how long she had been gone from home, she mounted her pony and galloped on toward the castle, her head wreathed with holly, and her arms full of flowers. As she entered the avenue there stood her impatient nurse awaiting her.
"My dear, darling young lady, what an age you have been away. We have all been watching—"
"Has he come?"
"Who, the prince?"
"My dear uncle—has he come?"
"Yes, my dearest lady. They both came, Prince Ferdinand and your guardian, soon after you left, and have been here for three long mortal hours waiting for you very anxiously. The prince looks very noble and handsome, and is dressed most magnificently. You must not be disappointed though, dearest lady, for he is somewhat changed."
"Changed! How changed, dear nurse? I have not seen him these six or seven years, ever since, you remember the time, he and my cousin duke, his father, with so many others, went to fight those horrid Turks."
"He looks older, much older than he did—that, though, must be—yes, it must be on account—"
"Older! why you simple, queer little nurse, he is older. Why should he not look—I expect to see him look half as old as Methuselah at least. How shockingly old one must feel if they live to be twenty-eight."
"Yes, he does seem older than I expected to see him—though, to be sure, he has been, for the last seven years engaged in the wars; yes, that must be it. Nothing makes one grow old so fast as fighting. But, dear lady, come, now, and dress, there's a darling. You will have just about time enough before dinner. But where is your bonnet?"
"Up in the branch of a tree, nursey dear. It will make some bird a delightful nest next spring. I lost it getting this curious white flower. Look at it. It grew in an almost inaccessible spot upon the cliff by the sea."
"You are a dear little kid clambering among those ugly rocks. Let me take some of your flowers, your bundle is nearly as big as yourself. The saints preserve us! if there are not your uncle guardian and the prince! And you in such a tattered plight. For the love of Heaven, dear lady, come in here among these bushes until—"
But the little dame had to finish her speech to the winds, for the impulsive Isoleth had sprung from her pony, and was clasped in her guardian uncle's embrace before her nurse was half through beseeching her to hide.
"Why, my dear child, have you turned gipsy? You are as ragged as one, and are as brown as a berry. But I can see through your long, thick curls that the last year has improved you most wonderfully. Let me introduce you to your cousin, Ferdinand of Bernstorf."
Isoleth looked up and beheld—gracious me! He was every day as old as her guardian, and positively had gray hairs. She was sure she saw white hairs among his black curls. She could give him only one glance, for his dark, handsome eyes were fastened searchingly upon her. Her eyes fell beneath his admiring gaze, and fell upon her torn muslin dress—the rocks and briars had paid no respect to it—rather had paid their best respects to it; and, without vouchsafing a word in reply to her uncle or handsome cousin, she sprung, light as a fawn, into her saddle, and was out of sight in the twinkling of an eye.
"What say you, Cousin of Bernstorf, to such a bride as that for the proposed alliance—a wild one, is it not?"
"I like her exceedingly. By the holy mass! but she is the most beautiful creature I ever saw. We will take her to court, she will bewitch us all, old and young. By my faith, but she is—"
"Yes, yes, she is," replied the baron, smiling at Ferdinand's earnestness. I thought she would surprise you. I cannot conceive of any thing one-half so beautiful as she."
"Beautiful! you surprise me! Bless my soul! she is radiant with beauty, and she is the greatest surprise I ever had in my life. We will electrify the whole court with surprise and delight at her wondrous grace and beauty, and—"
"All in good time, noble cousin. You recollect her father's will—that she should remain at Fernheath, neither going from here, nor receiving much company, save her own kinsfolk, until after her marriage with your noble—"
"Yes, yes, I have not forgotten the will. 'So was it nominated in the bond.' It delights me most exceedingly that she is so marvelously beautiful. St. Jerome! but I feel already that I love her as dearly as though she were my own—"
"Good gracious, cousin! You always had a spice of enthusiasm that is delightful and refreshing to me." And the baron laughed right heartily because he was delighted—and the laugh seemed to refresh him. "After all," continued he, as soon as the corners of his mouth had come within speaking distance of each other, "after all, she is but an untrained country-girl; she—"
"Nature, and her own beautiful soul, have given her all the training she needs. Her wild, unconstrained life, has developed her as no court or city life could. That I can see, seeing her as little as I have."
"You think just as I do, dear cousin. My brother's will was a wise one, that kept her thus from the deadening conventionalities of a court life."
"By my soul! how exceedingly lovely she is. She surpasses all my expectations. I recollect her as a little fairy thing of eight or ten. I have not seen her until now—"
"Since just before this last war, full seven years ago."
If Ferdinand of Bernstorf thought the little tattered gypsey Isoleth so inconceivably lovely, his eyes were half blinded with the radiant beauty of the young Countess of Fernheath, as she entered the dining-hall, clad in the shining court-robe her guardian had sent her. Her cousin's dark eyes were fastened upon her with a look of passionate admiration, that caused the bright blood to burn on her face and bosom. Nor did those handsome black eyes scarce leave her during the whole long dinner. As soon as she could release herself she hastened to her only confidante, Dame Hildreth.
She found the little dame kneeling upon the floor, busily engaged in unpacking boxes, while the floor was literally alive with silks, and satins, and laces, and woman's finery.
"See here, my lady—and here—and there! Look what your uncle guardian of Arnheim has provided for your approaching nuptials! And, dear lady, do but look here;" and the eager, proud little dame opened a casket of beautiful pearls—necklace, girdle, coronet, brooch and armlets. This noble present comes from the father of your betrothed. It is to be followed by a still more beautiful set of diamonds."
"These pearls may deck my burial instead of my bridal, for I never will live to wed with him below."
"Why, my sweetest lady!" exclaimed nurse Hildreth, glancing up in surprise at her young mistress's flushed and excited face. "For the love of Heaven, do not talk in that way! What objection can you possibly have to such a noble, handsome, princely prince? He is the oldest son and heir to—"
"Oldest, indeed! He is old enough to be my father's father."
"Mercy on us! Lady Isoleth, you talk wild. I will wager my life he is only twenty-eight, three days after this coming Christmas. He has been in the wars, you know—and war is no gentle nurse. Exposure in the wars has caused him to appear somewhat older than he is. You know, dearest lady, that war—"
"But he is gray—"
"Exposure in the wars—"
"And wrinkled—"
"Exposure in the wars—"
"But there is that about him I never could love, were he as young as—I never can love him—I hate him, and I will not wed him."
"But, my dear, dear, dearest young lady, what will you do?" The thought never entering her head that the Lady Isoleth could do any thing but submit to the will of others; for woman in those times was sought and given in marriage without often consulting her own inclination.
What will I do, dear nurse? Why I will fall on my knees at the feet of my beloved guardian and plead with him. He never refused me any thing; and I know he will grant—"
"But your father's will, dearest lady—"
"Shall be put aside, where his daughter's happiness is at stake."
"Would it may be as you wish, sweetest lady. But I fear. Still he is a right noble prince, and will make a right noble husband."
"Not for me."