"Anna Müller."
"Well, what do you think of it?" Cecilia asked, eagerly. "It does not seem odd to me at all. I think it simple, clear, and decided."
"But what does she mean by saying that Werner's ugly description of the life here accords with her views and inclinations? Arno says that must be a falsehood; that no girl could like such a place, and that Fräulein Müller must be a false, exaggerated person to say that she accepts such a position with pleasure. Papa thought the same; and even Werner said that the brevity of the note impressed him disagreeably, while Arno insisted that its short, decided tone, its want of all conventional courtesy, was the only thing in it to recommend it. What do you think?"
"I think we should be overhasty in adopting a prejudice against the lady upon reading her short note, which to my mind contains nothing to inspire it. Why should we distrust her declaration that the life in Castle Hohenwald is to her taste? If it were not so, could she not decline the position offered her? It certainly speaks well for her that she makes use of no stupid conventional phrases, and she shows a correct appreciation of her duties towards you, Fräulein von Hohenwald, in calling herself not your governess, but your companion and teacher. I really cannot see any reason why you should form an unfavourable opinion of Fräulein Müller. Take my advice and receive her after your own frank, cordial fashion. Do not be swayed by your brother Arno's (pardon me) unjustifiable prejudice, but see and judge for yourself, and you will be sure to judge rightly."
"Yes, I will," Celia said, cheerfully. "I knew you would give me good counsel, and I shall follow it. But now," she continued, with a sudden gravity, "we must discuss one point which I have never ceased to think of since the letter arrived to-day. What will become of my beloved liberty? Is it not lost from the moment that Fräulein Müller arrives at Castle Hohenwald?"
"It may be somewhat restricted, and is it not perhaps best that it should be so, Fräulein von Hohenwald?"
"Ah, you are thinking again that I need a governess. You will make me seriously angry. I am not a child, and I will not have my liberty restricted! I am willing to learn. I will sit still for hours and play the piano every day, but I will not be put into leading-strings. It is not kind of you to wish it for me, Herr von Poseneck. What will become of my afternoon rides if Fräulein Müller thinks it unbecoming for a young lady to roam about the forest alone?"
Celia's words told a joint in Kurt's armour; had he not often reflected that the propriety of these rides was questionable? It was hard for him to carry out his resolve of always being frank and true towards Celia, but he did it. With a sigh, he replied, "Fräulein Müller would not be far wrong if she did think so."
Celia suddenly reined in her horse, and looking down at Kurt with eyes large with wonder, she said, in a tone expressing painful regret, "And you tell me this?"
"Yes, Fräulein Celia," and for the first time he avoided the formal Von Hohenwald; "yes, I tell you so, because I always will be honest and true to you."