Elizabeth arose, and prepared to take her leave. Herr von Walde, as soon as he saw this, looked inquiringly at the baroness. Doubtless he expected that she would extend an invitation to the young girl, but just at this moment the lady discovered that the gardener's arrangement of the flower-stand in the window was "too charming," and in enraptured contemplation of a bunch of azaleas she turned her back upon Elizabeth.
Fräulein Ferber courtesied profoundly and left the room, after Helene had repeated, in a trembling voice, her expressions of gratitude. Without, in the corridor, she met Herr von Hollfeld. At sight of her he quickened his pace, casting a lightning glance around to assure himself that no listener was near. Before she was aware of it, he had seized Elizabeth's hand, imprinted a glowing kiss upon it, and whispered: "How rejoiced I am to see you once more!"
Her astonishment was so great that she could not at first find a word to say. She drew back her hand as though she had been stung, and he accepted her repulse, because at that very moment the door of Helene's room opened, and Herr von Walde appeared. Hollfeld raised his hat to Elizabeth as if he had just seen her, and his features subsided instantly into an expression of utter indifference as he walked towards his relative.
Elizabeth was disgusted with his farce,—first, at the insulting familiarity, which made her blood boil with indignation, and then, at the denial of any acquaintance before a third person. Her maidenly pride was deeply wounded. She reproached herself that she had not rebuked his impertinence boldly upon the spot. A crimson flush glowed in her cheeks with shame that she should have been treated so by any man; it seemed as if the spot upon her hand, where his hot lips had rested, still burned, and she hastily held it beneath the stream of a fountain in the park, that the imaginary stain might be washed away.
Much agitated, she reached her home, and complained with tears to her mother of the insult that she had received. Frau Ferber was a sensible woman, possessed of clear, calm insight. She was convinced by Elizabeth's resentment that her child's heart was not in the least danger, and her fears were laid to rest. It was easy to defend her from attacks from without; but who could guard her from the grief that a misplaced attachment would entail upon her?
"You know now what manner of man Herr von Hollfeld is," she said. "It will not be difficult strictly to avoid all future contact with him, and if he should presume in spite of your efforts, he must be sternly repulsed. His conduct seems to be the result of aristocratic conceit and cowardice, two qualities which will probably deter him from any further advances, when he discovers how disagreeable they are to you. But at all events, familiarize yourself with the thought that your behaviour towards him must of necessity create an enemy who will, at some future day, put a stop to your intercourse with Fräulein von Walde. Of course such a consideration cannot for one instant lead you to hesitate as to your line of conduct. Go on your way then, my child, quietly and with self-possession. I should certainly not advise you to give up your visits to Castle Lindhof."
"Assuredly not! no, that I will not do!" cried Elizabeth, quickly. "What would my uncle say if the chicken should actually come flying back to creep beneath the shelter of home?" she added, smiling through her tears. "It would be wretched indeed, if with all the strength of which I have boasted, I am not strong enough to repulse an impertinent man so effectually that he shall desist from all future advances."
She recalled her conversation with Herr von Walde, and found, to her great satisfaction, that she must certainly be exceedingly brave, for assuredly it had required no small exercise of courage, while confronting that stern countenance, to declare her own convictions, which attacked so decidedly the proud edifice of his ancestral pride. She had expected every moment to see his glance sheathe itself in ice again, as it had done in conversation with the baroness; but the singular glow and expression which had so struck her when first he addressed her, had not faded from his eyes,—she could almost, in fact, believe that she detected beneath his moustache a smile lurking around the corners of his mouth. Perhaps he had determined to-day to enact the part of the lion towards the mouse. He had magnanimously permitted a little girl to pour out her naive ideas at his feet, where they might remain lying, since to bend his aristocratic back to pick them up and examine them was not to be thought of,—they probably amused him as exemplifying the saying of the dog "baying the moon." She repeated all this continually to herself, that she might stamp afresh upon her treacherous memory his general reputation for boundless arrogance.
She could not tell how she became conscious of it, but she was now perfectly aware that she should suffer unspeakably if Herr von Walde's arrogance was ever exercised towards her; so she must be doubly on her guard and not allow herself to be misled by his observance of the usual forms of common politeness, of his high regard for which the next day brought her a most convincing proof.
CHAPTER XI.