Victor Adolph suppressed a curse. This was too unfortunate. So, then, he would have to leave the town without seeing her again.... He begged permission to write a few lines for the young lady. Frau Eleonore conducted him to the writing-table, and provided him with paper. He began to write, but his hand trembled so violently that the letters ran together, and he could not collect his thoughts. He threw the pen aside, crumpled up the sheet, and arose: “I prefer to write at home,” said he, and hastily took his departure.
In the quiet of his own room, he managed, after much consideration and some false beginnings, to compose the following message:—
Gnädiges Fräulein!
As I have not as yet received a consenting answer to my question, I do not venture to use any more intimate address. Frau von Rockhaus will tell you that I came to see you. But she does not know how unhappy it made me to miss you. A telegram from my father—which I inclose—compels me to leave Lucerne by the five o’clock train. It is terrible to me not to have had a chance to see you and talk with you before my departure. I know that you are to remain in Lucerne for three or four days longer. I hope sincerely that I can return—unless you forbid me. In any case, wherever you are, pray let me know the place where I may get the answer from you that will decide my fate.
I still owe it to you to explain my circumstances and the conditions which these circumstances impose upon me. This I can do only by word of mouth. But I will repeat in writing what I said yesterday from an overflowing heart: I love you and ask you to be my wife!
Victor Adolph.
Address: Royal Palace ——.
When Franka had returned from her excursion with Gwendoline, she found the two letters. She read and re-read them, first hastily, then deliberately, weighing every word and trying to find between the lines what had gone forth from the hearts of the senders. From Victor Adolph’s—although the conclusion of it confirmed the greatest proof of love that a man can give a woman: the offer of his hand—there seemed to emanate a cool breath; from Helmer’s, on the other hand,—although in it he gave her away to another,—came forth something like a warm caress.
CHAPTER XXVIII
A CORNUCOPIA FULL OF GIFTS
The next to the last evening of this Rose-Week was at hand. The principal speaker was to be that young American, as yet unknown to the great majority, to whom Helmer had referred when he said to the little coterie at the hotel: “I know of things which are in preparation ... there is in our midst an inventor, a conqueror....”