"Perfectly so, if you really think it necessary——"
"Oh, thank you, thank you!" she interrupted him, extending to him her hand. But he did not seem to notice it, although he was looking fixedly at her. "You are not angry with me for this?" she asked, anxiously, after a few moments.
"I am never angry when you are striving to make others happy. You must remember how I have always encouraged and assisted you in such efforts. But here I do think you are in too great haste. You seem to me very ready to plunge that young creature into misery."
She started up as though a viper had stung her. "That is a cruel accusation!" she cried. "Your prejudice against poor Emil, which is founded, Heaven only knows upon what, leads you beyond all bounds. You know the man far too slightly."
"I know him far too well to wish to know him any better. He is a dishonourable villain, a miserable fellow of no character, by whose side a woman, let her claims for honour and uprightness in a man be ever so small, must be wretched. Woe to the poor creature when she finds him out!" His voice trembled with suppressed pain; but Helene heard in it only anger and violence.
"Oh Heavens! how unjust!" she cried, raising her tearful eyes to the ceiling. "Rudolph, you are committing a great sin. What has poor Emil done to you, that you should persecute him so unrelentingly?"
"Must a man be personally aggrieved in order to estimate correctly another's character?" he asked, angrily. "My child, you have been grossly deceived; but your eyes are blinded. The time will come when you will acknowledge it with shame. If I should try to remove this cup of suffering from your lips, it would avail nothing; you would repulse me, seeing in me only a barbarian treading under foot all your holiest affections. You force me to leave you to pursue your path alone, until the moment when you will fly to me for consolation and succour. My heart will always be open to you; but what will become of that other, bound irrevocably to her dreadful fate?"
He went into the next room, and locked the door after him. For awhile Helene sat as if paralyzed,—then she arose with difficulty, and supporting herself by the walls and the furniture, left the apartment.
Her soul was filled with bitterness, almost with hatred, towards her brother, who had to-day roughly and ruthlessly handled all that she had tenderly encircled with the most delicate fibres of her heart. That heart was well nigh broken as she called vividly to mind the self-sacrifice which her lover proposed. She seemed to herself to have already wronged him deeply in allowing such terrible abuse of him to fall upon her ears. He should never, never learn how her brother's prejudices had carried him away. No sacrifice, not the greatest, would now be sufficient to atone for the injustice which he was forced unconsciously to endure. And since her brother had so openly declared his opinion of Hollfeld, she would not allow that he should longer share the hospitality of Lindhof. She would herself request him to return to Odenberg, of course suppressing her reason for such a request. But first his engagement to Elizabeth should be concluded.
Occupied with these thoughts, she entered the dining-room, and when Hollfeld appeared shortly afterward, she received him with a quiet smile, and announced to him that her brother, without even hearing the name of the future bride, had approved of her resolution with regard to her dowry. She desired to see Elizabeth now as soon as possible, and Hollfeld, greatly rejoiced to observe her repose of manner, assented. It was agreed that the interview should take place at four o'clock that afternoon, in the pavilion. Hollfeld left the room to despatch a servant to Gnadeck with a request, in Helene's name, to that effect. How surprised the little lady would have been, could she have heard it expressly enjoined upon the servant to name three, as the appointed hour, while the butler was ordered to have everything arranged in the pavilion at that time!