After dinner, the father reminded his favorite that it was time to dress, so as to be in season at the minister’s palace; and Friedemann hastened to do so. With a beating heart, with feelings that partook both of pleasure and despair, he found himself at the palace. As he entered the hall, a side door was suddenly thrown open, and a small man, with striking features, and soft, clear blue eyes, richly dressed, with a blazing star on his breast, came forth: it was the minister himself. As Friedemann stopped and bowed to him, he advanced, speaking in the gentlest and blandest tone imaginable—
“Ah! bon jour, Monsieur Bach! Much happiness with the New year! My niece has sent for you? I am pleased to see you so punctual. I see, with satisfaction, you are attached to our house, and shall remember your zeal where it will do you good. I shall improve the first opportunity to convince you by deeds, of my good will. Now to the Countess!”
He nodded to the young man, smiled, and skipped out of the door and down the steps to his carriage, which soon drove away with him.
Young Bach looked after him, and murmured to himself, “Can he have guessed my secret? The smile of that man ever bodes disaster! Well, come what may, what can make me more wretched than I am? On, reprobate!” He crossed the hall, and passed through one of the galleries towards the apartment of the Countess Natalie.
“This way,” said the maid, who was waiting for him in the ante-room, and without further announcement, she opened the door of the cabinet, where Natalie, charmingly dressed, was reclining on a divan. Friedemann entered.
Natalie arose quickly, and stood a moment gazing earnestly on the visitor. She might have seen twenty summers; her figure was not tall, but perfectly symmetrical, and voluptuous in its rounded fulness; her head was beautiful, though not classical in its contour; a curved nose, and a pair of well defined, though delicately pencilled eyebrows, gave an expression of decision and pride to her countenance, while the exquisite, rosy mouth, and eyes shadowed by their long lashes, exhibited more the character of softness and tenderness. A profusion of dark hair floated unconfined over her neck, and relieved the outlines of her somewhat pale, but lovely face.
She stood still a moment before Friedemann, who cast down his eyes embarrassed; then approaching, she laid her small white hand lightly on his shoulder, and said, in a mild voice—“Tell me, Bach, what were you doing last night so late, opposite our house?”
Friedemann raised his dark, flashing eyes to hers, but dropped them the next instant. Natalie continued—“I saw you plainly, as I stepped a moment out on the balcony for a breath of fresh air—and I knew you at once. You were leaning against the castle wall; it seemed as if you were waiting for some one. Come—Bach, answer me!”
The young man struggled down his emotions, and after a pause, said coldly—“You sent for me, most gracious Countess, to honor me with your commands respecting the arrangement of a concert.”
Natalie turned her back pettishly, and cried in an angry and disappointed tone—“Thus—haughty man! you thank me, too weak of heart! for my trust—for my concessions! Out on ungrateful man!”