He was evidently a very polite and agreeable young man,--"the honour of addressing Fräulein von Hohenwald." Celia suddenly felt very much grown up. Hitherto she had been only Celia. Even the servants, who had known her from infancy, called her nothing but Fräulein Celia. Fräulein von Hohenwald sounded delightful. She quite forgot to pursue her inquiries, and answered, "Yes, I am Cecilia von Hohenwald."
Again the stranger bowed low, and taking a little card-case from his breast-pocket, produced a visiting-card, which he handed to her, saying, "I must pray your forgiveness for presenting myself in this informal manner as your nearest neighbour."
Celia read the card. "Kurt von Poseneck!" she exclaimed, and the tone of her voice as well as the expression of her eyes manifested such surprise and even terror, that for Kurt all the inherited hatred of the Hohenwalds for the Posenecks found utterance in this brief mention of his name.
When the Amtsrath Friese, his uncle, had told him of the fierce hatred between the Hohenwalds and the Posenecks that had been handed down through generations, Kurt had laughed heartily, but now when he thought he saw that this insensate hate had taken root in the heart of this lovely child, he was filled with a sense of painful regret. "What have I done to you, Fräulein von Hohenwald," he said, sadly, "that my name should so startle you?"
"It does not startle, it only surprises me," Celia replied, quickly, as she looked with increased interest and a greater degree of attention at this young man, who did not in the least resemble the picture she had formed from the tales of Frau Kaselitz of a member of the evil-minded, cross-grained quarrelsome Poseneck family.
Certainly Kurt von Poseneck looked neither cross-grained nor quarrelsome as his frank eyes met her own kindly and yet sadly.
Her first inspection had inclined her in the stranger's favour, and Celia now decided that he was a very fine-looking man, almost as tall as her brother Arno and far handsomer, for Arno looked stern and gloomy, while Kurt smiled kindly. His full brown beard and moustache became him admirably. Celia thought his expression exceedingly pleasing; she had never supposed that a Poseneck could have so frank and honest a smile.
The girl was quite incapable of dissimulation,--her thoughts and sentiments were mirrored in her eyes,--and Kurt perceived to his great satisfaction the first startled expression vanish from her face as she looked at him with a very friendly air.
"I thank you, Fräulein von Hohenwald," he said, "for those simple words. I was afraid you shared the melancholy prejudice that has been the cause of so many terrible disputes between our families in former times, and this would have specially pained me in you."
"Why specially in me?"