She looked up at the starry sky. Indeed, there shone a myriad of glittering eyes. As Franka sat there, bathed in the soft moonlight, with her head upturned, her large dark eyes directed to the firmament, her delicate features as it were illuminated with reverence, she seemed more exquisitely beautiful than ever.
“You are right.... Every instant one or another of the stars seems to say, ‘I am.’ That is after all the deepest of mysteries, that unfathomable meaning of the verb ‘to be.’”
“Franka, I love you!”
The words came so abruptly that Franka felt a violent shock. It fell upon her like a burning bolt. She drew herself up and pushed back her chair. Victor Adolph was himself startled at his own words; he had not anticipated making so sudden a declaration of his love. Here once more were those primitive incitements to passion and love:—the summer night, the perfume of flowers, the moonlight ... and that bewitching beauty!
Beauty had been the topic of the whole evening: the magic of the tropics and of the Arctic sea, of Radiolaria and anemones, but there had not been a word said about the most potent of all the powers of beauty—in a lovely young woman’s face. What were all the lilies and birds of paradise, what were all the dancing colors and lights, in comparison to such a pair of beaming eyes, from which gleamed a human soul?
A short pause ensued, during which both felt their hearts beat faster. Then Victor Adolph began to speak in a low tone:—
“You must not be angry, Fräulein Garlett ... the audacious words came almost involuntarily out of my mouth. Honestly, I, myself, as I said them for the first time, have realized what deep feelings toward you I cherish. Yes, I love you, sincerely and passionately. I believe you might crown my happiness with the richest gift one could conceive if only you would return my love. You must not for an instant misunderstand me—I offer you my hand. Do not answer now—I desire no hasty answer. You must first weigh all things in the balance—for there would be difficulties, reserves.... I am not a free and independent man, and perhaps great responsibilities will be put upon me....”
Franka stood up: “You asked me not to answer and I beg you, my prince, my dear prince,”—her voice trembled with deep emotion,—“do not say anything more.... I am going into the salon now.”
She took a few steps and was soon surrounded by a number of persons. The tête-à-tête was at an end. The prince, bowing low, went off in another direction. Franka took no further part in the social festivities but fled to her room.