Celia made no reply; she urged Pluto into a walk again, and rode beside Kurt in silence. She had never reflected whether these meetings in the forest were becoming. She had made no appointments with Kurt, but chance--no, it had not been chance entirely after the first meeting; she knew that she should meet him, but she could not reproach herself with having made any appointments. She was quite blameless. Quite? Why, then, had she never mentioned these daily meetings at home in Castle Hohenwald? Why had she never uttered the name of Kurt von Poseneck to her father or Arno, and never even said a word when Arno had casually mentioned the fact that a son of the Poseneck who had emigrated to America had returned, and was living at Grünhagen with the Amtsrath, whose heir report said he was to be? Her father, Arno, and Werner had discussed the Posenecks at some length; why had she never said a word, although she could easily have set them right upon several points? Hitherto she had simply followed her impulse to see Kurt, whom she liked so much, daily; but now, suddenly, she became aware that something about these meetings was not just as it should be.
After a long pause, she said, dejectedly, "I think you are right, Herr Kurt; I have acted very unbecomingly; but then we never made any appointments, and it was so pleasant to meet by chance. You have told me so much to interest me, I could always listen to you for hours; but if you think it improper, I will not ride on the forest road again. It will be hard, for lately I have looked forward all the forenoon to this hour of talk with you."
The girl's childlike, innocent frankness enchanted Kurt; he yielded to an irresistible impulse to seize and kiss the hand that hung down near him. Then, startled at what he had done, he instantly dropped it, while Celia, not in the least startled, looked at him with a happy smile.
"Is it really so wrong for us to spend one short hour here every day talking together?" she asked, looking down kindly into his face.
He could not withstand the magic of her look; all the wise rules that he had laid down for himself melted in the light of her eyes like snow before the sun. "No, dearest Celia! A thousand times no!" he cried, rapturously. "I swear to you by my honour that you never shall have any cause to regret your confidence in me. I will not ask you to continue your rides,--you shall not promise me to do so,--but I will be here awaiting you every day; nothing shall prevent me. Although you should stay away for weeks, you will find me here whenever you come at this hour."
"And you shall not await me in vain," Celia replied; and as she leaned down towards him their lips met for one instant in a fleeting kiss. Then she suddenly wheeled her horse about and was gone.
Kurt stood for a while motionless. Long after the lovely rider had vanished in the gloom he still saw her in spirit, and felt her kiss upon his lips. He hardly noticed that the rain, which had ceased for a few minutes, was pouring down with renewed violence; that a sharp wind was blowing, colder than before. He stood like one entranced in the lonely forest, and, when unconsciously he turned towards home, he never heard the howling of the tempest. Not until the bough of an oak-tree, torn off by the wind, fell directly across his path did he waken from his revery.
CHAPTER VII.
"Station A----. One minute's stop!"
The conductor hastily opened the door of a second-class carriage and helped out a young lady, civilly handed her her travelling-bag and railway wrap, clambered into his place again, and in a few moments the train was out of sight.