"I cannot say that he has, but----"
"Has he ever neglected the duties which he undertook to perform when he entered our house? Is he not a conscientious and affectionate tutor for Fritzchen? Has he ever done anything for which he could justly be reproved?"
"No. I do not ask you to dismiss him abruptly. If you would pay him his salary for an entire year----"
"Do you suppose that a man of honour could be compensated by a year's salary for being turned from our door? I think there was a great deal of truth in what Lieschen said of him, and I should never forgive myself for wounding him by injustice. He certainly is not a happy man. So long as he does his duty we must do ours. Good-night, Emma."
CHAPTER XIV.
[PASTOR WIDMAN AS A CORRESPONDENT].
The Lieutenant had returned from Berlin, whither he had gone upon business for Herr von Osternau. He had driven over from the station without waiting for the sorting of the mail, because he was in haste to tell his cousin of the results of his mission, so he said at least to excuse himself for not bringing with him the post-bag, but the excuse was a very lame one, since he had but little to tell and his news could easily have waited for an hour.
Apparently the Herr Lieutenant had found waiting at the lonely station too tedious; he was in a mood on this particular evening to find such waiting very irksome, for he was possessed by a spirit of unrest that did not leave him even after he had reached the castle. Scarcely had he taken his place at the tea-table, and communicated to Herr von Osternau certain insignificant details relating to his visit to Berlin, when he arose quickly and hurried to the window, declaring that it was so warm that his head ached. After cooling his forehead against the panes he returned again to his place, only to arise in a few moments and pace the room hastily to and fro as he detailed some vapid anecdotes which he had heard in Berlin.
His restlessness was so evident that Herr von Osternau looked at him with some anxiety. "Are you not well, Albrecht?" he asked, kindly. "You look pale and your eyes are feverishly bright. Would you not rather go to your room?"
"No, no; nothing is the matter with me," the Lieutenant replied, hastily. "I am only a little upset by my Berlin visit; it always is so when I leave the quiet and repose of the country for the whirlpool of city life and sit far into the night with my old friends."