Probably an assenting nod must have confirmed him in this supposition, for he continued, with great irritation, "What an insane idea! Do you suppose that you can do your Heavenly Father good service by renouncing one of his best gifts, the power of speech? And are you going to be silent all your life long? No! You will speak, then, if that which you hope to effect by means of your vow fails to come to pass? Very well, I cannot force you to speak,—then endure alone what depresses you and makes you so unhappy, for that you are unhappy any one can read in your face. But let me tell you that you will find an inexorable judge in me, if it should ever appear that you have done anything that shuns the light and should not be told to honest men; for in your boundless arrogance you have hitherto rejected every well-meant piece of advice, every attempt to guide and direct you, making it impossible for me to care for you as it is my duty and desire, standing as I do in the place of your parents. I will bear with you a little longer; but should I find you once leaving the house after nightfall, this is your home no longer,—you must go. And let me tell you also, to-morrow I shall send for the doctor to tell me whether you are really ailing; you have looked wretchedly for the last few weeks. Now go!"
The door opened, and Bertha staggered out. She did not notice Sabina and Elizabeth, and when she heard the door close behind her, she suddenly wrung her hands above her head in the speechless agony of despair, and rushed up the stairs as though hunted by the furies.
"That girl has something on her conscience, whatever it may be," said Sabina, shaking her head. Elizabeth went in to her uncle. He was leaning against the window, and drumming upon one of the panes with his fingers, a common habit with him when irritated. He looked very gloomy, but his features lighted up as Elizabeth entered.
"I'm glad you are come, Gold Elsie!" he exclaimed; "I need to see some true, pure face beside me; I shudder at the black eyes of that girl who has just gone out. Never mind, I have taken up my domestic cross again, and shall bear it on for awhile; I cannot see the child cry, even though I were sure that the effect of every tear was exactly calculated."
Elizabeth was heartily glad that the dreaded encounter between Bertha and her uncle was well over. She hastened to divert his thoughts entirely from the unfortunate girl by describing to him the festivities she had just witnessed, telling him cursorily of Herr von Walde's sudden departure. She informed him also of Linke's dreadful end, at which, however, he was not greatly surprised, as he had expected some such termination to the affair.
He accompanied Elizabeth to the garden gate.
"Be very careful not to ring too loudly at the gate in the wall," he warned her as she left him. "Your mother had an attack of headache to-day, and has gone to bed. I was up there a little while ago."
Elizabeth ran up the mountain in some anxiety, but Miss Mertens, leading little Ernst by the hand, came to meet her on the sward before the castle, and soothed her fears. The attack was over, and her mother was enjoying a refreshing sleep when Elizabeth softly went to her bedside.
It was already twilight; the most profound quiet reigned throughout the house,—the striking clocks had been stopped,—the window shutters were closed that the rustling of the leaves without might not be heard,—not even a fly buzzed,—for Ferber had tenderly taken care that nothing should disturb the stillness that surrounded the sleeper.
If her mother had been sitting in her arm-chair in the window recess of the dwelling-room behind the protecting curtains, looking upon the green domain without, above which stretched the calm evening skies,—the dear familiar corner would have become a confessional, where Elizabeth, kneeling upon the cushion at her mother's feet, would have poured out her overcharged mind and heart. But now she thrust back her precious secret into the inmost recesses of her soul: and who knows whether she will ever find courage to reveal what must fill her mother's heart with the keenest anxiety?