What was there for Egon to do but to express his gratitude to madame, and to kiss the fair hand extended to him, while declaring his pleasure in welcoming beneath his roof both Frau and Fräulein von Wangen?
These formalities concluded, the visitors took seats, and a very lively talk ensued. Bertha was positively charming; she dwelt just long enough upon her anxiety lest the drive from Linau should have proved too much for Herr von Ernau, and was so easy and cordial that she banished all feeling of restraint from the conversation, which soon turned to Herr von Wangen's favourite theme, agriculture. All the party regretted Egon's inability to act as their guide in an inspection of so famous an estate as Plagnitz, which Wangen had never before visited. In especial was he desirous to see a certain wonderful breed of sheep. Of course, Egon proposed that his bailiff, Herr Hensel, should act as his guest's cicerone in default of his own companionship, and Wangen eagerly accepted the proposal, after consulting his wife by a glance.
Herr Hensel was summoned, and was much honoured by the office intrusted to him. He asked whether the ladies also might not perhaps be interested in the sheepstalls, which were constructed upon an entirely new plan. Frau von Wangen declined to accompany her husband, but Clara gladly arose to go with her brother and Herr Hensel: she took all a country girl's interest in sheep and cows.
Wangen seemed a little disconcerted by this arrangement; he was in his heart reluctant to leave his wife alone to the fascinations of her old admirer. He could not possibly let this be known, however,--Bertha would have laughed at his foolish jealousy. Nevertheless, he felt far from comfortable when Bertha added her approval of Clara's intention, saying, "Do go, my dear Clara, and take note of all the improvements, which we may be able to introduce at Linau." He could not, without making himself ridiculous, insist upon Clara's staying behind; she was already hanging upon his arm, and he quietly followed Herr Hensel.
For the first time in his life Egon was alone with Bertha. Even at Castle Osternau they had never met except in the presence of some member of the family, and there was a vague sense in his mind of wrong done to his ideal by this tête-à-tête, although he had done nothing to bring it about; it was purely accidental. In fact, the young man's mind had been, during the past four days, so continually filled with thoughts of Lieschen, he had so constantly recalled her every look and word of former years, the restlessness that possessed him had been so largely caused by his anxiety to hear from Storting, and had been so much more keenly felt since he was forbidden to allay it by physical exertion or hard mental effort, that he was not as open as it was his wont to be to the impression of the moment; it cost him some pains to prevent his imagination from driving present realities from his mind. Therefore, for some time after they were thus left alone, the conversation was of a quite indifferent character; and yet how exquisitely lovely she was as she sat opposite him, with a gentle smile hovering upon her charming mouth! How sweet and tender was her voice as, at last, after a pause, she leaned towards him, her eyes seeking and holding his, and asked, softly, "Herr von Ernau, are you still angry with me?"
Honestly, Egon did not understand why she should ever have thought him angry, and honestly he rejoined, "Why should I be angry with you, madame?"
She blushed slightly as she said, sadly, "Ah, yes, I see you are still angry. You persist in dwelling upon the past, although I begged you to forget it. Yet can we forget? I cannot practise what I would enjoin upon you. The consciousness of the wrong I did you has robbed me of rest since I last saw you. I long to hear you say that you forgive me. I came to-day with Herr von Wangen, hoping for this opportunity, which accident has given me, to entreat you not to add to all that is hard and cruel in my lot by withholding your forgiveness for the past. Believe me, I have suffered in listening to the dictates of prudence, rather than to the voice of my heart."
She would have gone on, quite charmed with her own eloquence, absolutely fancying herself thrown away upon her idolizing husband, playing a part which had presented itself as most attractive to the shallow imaginings of her idle hours, but that something in Egon's face arrested the words upon her lips; she paused and waited for his reply.
In truth, while she had been speaking, Egon's thoughts had been hardly such as it would have pleased her to divine. Yes, she was incomparably lovely; he saw it all,--the dark, pleading glance, the wonderful grace of every movement; but how, he was asking himself, had he ever thought it possible to find his other self in this woman? How well he had known her kind in days gone by! Fate had been only too good to her in bringing her the devotion of so honest and single-hearted a man as Hugo von Wangen. He had surrounded her life with luxury and affection, and she had neither the heart to return his love, nor the mind to appreciate it. How false, how shallow she was! And his memory conjured up another face and another voice. 'There is nothing which I so detest as false words and false seeming.' His mind wandered from the present for an instant; but Bertha was silent, he must answer her, and, little fitted as he felt himself to play the part of a moralist, the thought of Wangen, so cordial in his kindness to his new neighbour, lent an additional coolness to his words:
"I assure you, madame, that I never imagined that I had the smallest right to feel myself in any way aggrieved by your conduct. All who know Hugo von Wangen can well understand how happy a woman she must be upon whom he bestows the treasure of his devotion. Let me repeat your kind advice to me when first I met you at Linau: Forget the past; we have to do with the present and the future."