It was the second time he had called me by my name. These two syllables had an intoxicating sound for me. I was compelled to answer what would sound as sweet to him—another two syllables, in which lay all that was bursting my heart—so, lifting my eyes to his, I said softly:—
“Frederick”.
At this instant the door opened and my father came in.
“Ah! you are there. The footman said you were not at home, but I replied I would wait for you. Good-day, Tilling! I am much surprised to find you here after your adieu of yesterday.”
“My departure is put off again, your excellence, and so I came——”
“To pay my daughter an arrival-call—all right. And now to tell you what brought me here, Martha. There is a family event——”
Tilling got up.
“Then I am perhaps in the way.”
“Oh, my communication is not so very pressing.”
I wished papa and his family event at the Antipodes. No interruption could have come more inopportunely. Tilling could do nothing now but go. But after what had passed between us going did not mean parting. Our thoughts, our hearts remained united.