"What obstacles? what do you mean? what? what do you know? Tell me all."
The Professorin shuddered inwardly. The restlessness and terror, the wilful, overbearing, and weak nature of Frau Ceres were now for the first time made clear to her; here was a woman who sought to torment her husband by revealing to her child the father's past life.
With entreaties and commands Frau Ceres endeavored to get a statement of the possible obstacles, and she was only quieted by the Professorin assuring her that she knew of nothing definite. In spite of the darkness, Fräulein Perini noticed how painfully this untruth fell from the lips of the Professorin; in fact she was just able to let it pass her lips, because she felt herself in the situation of the physician who does not venture to tell his fever-stricken patient the bitter truth.
Frau Ceres lay back in the corner of the carriage; she went to sleep like a child that has cried itself out with temper. Fräulein Perini earnestly begged the Professorin to call Frau Ceres 'Baroness' when she woke up. She told the coachman to turn back; they were on their way home to the Villa.
Frau Ceres was hard to wake; they put her to bed. She thanked the two ladies sincerely, and smiled pleasantly, when the Professorin said at last,—
"I hope you'll sleep well, Frau Baroness."
CHAPTER XII.
AN EMPTY NEST AND A HOME FOR ALL.
Toiling hard, and still singing lustily, the bird has built his nest from odds and ends from every quarter; restless in his task, he has fed his young while starving himself, contenting himself with the growth of the young birds; and now they have all flown away, the nest is empty and forsaken,—torn to shreds.
Such was the reflection in Eric's mind, as he stood in the evening by Roland's bedside, and felt his heart trembling with anxiety for the beloved youth. He wandered out across the country; he felt as if he must go to some friend, to some human being, on whose breast he could lay his weary head.