"Would to Heaven," he continued, "that I might follow the dictates of my heart, and live for this love only, for I desire nothing beyond the pleasure of constant intercourse with you, Helene. But you know I am the last of the Hollfelds and must marry. My sacrifice can be lessened only in one way,—I must choose a wife who knows you, and——"
"O tell me quickly!" cried Helene, giving way to her grief, while the tears burst from her eyes. "Your choice is already made! I know it,—it is Cornelie!"
"The Quittelsdorf?" he cried, with a laugh. "That will-o'-the-wisp? No, I would far rather leave the administration of my domestic affairs to the most repulsive of housekeepers! What should I do without an enormous income with such an extravagant, frivolous wife! Besides, let me tell you most emphatically, my sweet Helene, my choice is not yet made,—hear me, and do not weep so violently, you break my heart; I must have a wife who knows and loves you; a simple-hearted woman, of genuine understanding, to whom I can say: my heart belongs to another who never can be mine, be my friend and here."
"And do you imagine that any one could understand you?"
"Most certainly, if she loved me."
"No, I could not,—never, never!" She buried her face in the cushions, sobbing convulsively.
And now an ugly frown appeared on Hollfeld's smooth forehead. His lips were compressed, and for an instant the colour left his cheeks. He was evidently very angry. An expression of hatred lighted up the eyes that rested upon the young creature who was unexpectedly rendering his part so difficult to play. But he controlled himself, and lifted her face with a light, caressing touch. The poor thing trembled beneath his hypocritical contact, and let her delicate head rest passively upon his hand.
"And would you then forsake me, Helene," he asked sadly, "if I were compelled to fulfil so hard a duty? Would you turn away and leave me lonely, with a wife whom I did not love?"
She raised her swollen eyelids, and from beneath them broke a ray of inexpressible love. He had played his part admirably, and that glance told him that the game was in his own hands.
"You are now fighting the same battle," he continued, "which I have struggled through during the last few days, before I could arrive at any fixed determination. At first the thought that any third person may interfere with our relations to each other may well appall you, but I give you my word that shall not be. Think, Helene, how much more I can do for you; how much more truly I can live for you then than now. You can come to me at Odenberg. I will guard your every footstep, and cherish you as the apple of my eye."