Hollfeld possessed very little intellect, but he had a vast amount of cunning, which, as we see, served his turn better than intellect could have done. His poor victim flew into the net, her heart torn and bleeding, her force of will utterly annihilated.
"I will try to endure the thought," Helene at last whispered almost inaudibly. "But what a being that woman must be who could bear with me, and whom I might at last learn to love like a sister! Do you know any such lofty-minded, self-sacrificing creature?"
"I have an idea,—it occurred to me just now quite suddenly,—at present it is vague and unformed. After due consideration I shall certainly unfold it to you. But you must first be more composed, dear Helene. Think for a moment. I place the choice of my future wife solely and entirely in your hands. It depends upon you to approve or condemn what I propose."
"And are you strong enough to pass your life with a woman to whom you cannot give your love?"
He suppressed a contemptuous smile, for Helene's eyes were riveted upon his lips.
"I can do all that I resolve to do," he answered; "and to have you near me will give me strength.—But let me entreat one favour of you,—say nothing as yet to my mother of this important matter, as you know she wishes to control everything and everybody, and I could not now endure her interference. She will learn all soon enough when I present my future wife to her."
At any other time, this heartless, unfilial speech would have disgusted Helene; but, at this moment, she scarcely heard it, for every thought and feeling had been thrown into the wildest uproar by the words, "future wife," which suggested, in spite of the multitude of unhappy wives, the idea of supreme contentment and bliss.
"Oh, my God!" she cried, wringing in an agony of grief the little hands that lay in her lap. "I always hoped to die before this; I was not, indeed I was not so selfish as to think you could lead a lonely life for my sake; but I hoped that the necessarily short period of my life might induce you to let this cup pass from me,—to wait until my eyes should be closed upon my misery."
"But, Helene, what do you mean?" cried Hollfeld, still controlling his temper with difficulty. "At your age, who would think of dying? We will live—live, and in time be, as I confidently hope, happy indeed. Think of the matter, and you will see it all as I do."
He pressed her hand affectionately to his lips, imprinted a kiss upon her brow, for the first time,—took his hat, and left the room.