"But we have forgotten Miss Mertens," said her brother suddenly, in a different tone. "Would it not be advisable for Fräulein Ferber to settle that matter as soon as possible?"
"Yes, indeed," replied Helene, quickly, seizing upon any pretext to divert the conversation from its present painful direction. "We had better omit the lesson for to-day,—while you, dear child," and she turned to Elizabeth, "take the necessary steps,—pray go now, then, to your parents, and ask them in my name to offer an asylum to the poor lady."
Elizabeth arose, and Helene also stood up. When her brother saw that she wished to leave the pavilion, he put his arm about her little form, raised her from the ground like a feather, and carried her to the wheeled chair that stood outside the door. After he had arranged the cushions at her back, and covered her little feet carefully with a shawl, he raised his hat to Elizabeth, who saw that the wrinkle between his eyebrows was not yet gone, and pushed the chair along the nearest path leading to the castle.
"She quite fills his heart," thought Elizabeth, as she ascended the mountain, "and Miss Mertens must be wrong if she imagines that he will ever give to another a higher, or even a like place in his affections. He is jealous of his cousin, and rightly so. How can it be—" and here she stood still for a minute as two masculine figures arose to her mind's eye,—"that such a man as Hollfeld can have any charms for Helene by the side of Herr von Walde? The one retreats behind an appearance of wise silence because he has nothing to say, while the other, through whose noble external repose breaks such fire, possesses a world of power trained and restrained by force of character. Hence his seeming great reserve, which commonplace people cannot possibly understand."
She suddenly remembered the look that Herr von Walde had fixed upon her. Did he think her an accomplice,—his sister's confidante,—and was he vexed with her when, in fact, she had, at this present moment, no more earnest desire than that Herr von Hollfeld's passion for music might subside as quickly as it had been aroused? Of course, she could not say so to any one,—least of all to Herr von Walde,—and, therefore, she must silently pay the penalty for those painful blushes that had suffused her cheeks just at the wrong moment, and when there was no earthly reason for them.
CHAPTER XII.
Her father and mother instantly acceded to Elizabeth's request; and she hastened back to the castle to carry to Miss Mertens their cordial invitation. The governess, when Elizabeth entered her room, was leaning with folded hands against the wall. At her feet stood a trunk half packed, closets and wardrobes were wide open, and the chairs were heaped with books, dresses, and linen. The young girl hastened to her friend, threw her arms around her, and looked into her face, which, while it bore traces of tears, was beaming with happiness.
"I am so astounded by the sudden change in my lot," said Miss Mertens, after Elizabeth had offered her congratulations, "that I am obliged to close my eyes how and then and collect my senses. Only this morning everything seemed so dark before me,—I actually could not tell where to go,—the ground seemed slipping from under my feet. And just in the midst of my anxiety a home is suddenly provided for me. A man whom I esteem thoroughly, but whose regard for the poor governess I had never suspected, will be forever faithful to me, and I can fulfill the warmest desire of my heart and have my dear good mother to live with me! What will she say when she receives the news,—she, who has suffered so much in thinking that I must battle with the storms of life alone, and that she could not recall me to her loving heart!"
She told Elizabeth that in a few weeks Reinhard would go to England for her mother. His employer had himself proposed the journey, and insisted upon defraying all the expenses. Whenever Miss Mertens mentioned Herr von Walde the tears filled her eyes,—she declared that all the wrong done her by the baroness was more than overbalanced by his kindness and generosity; he could not endure to have any one beneath his roof suffer injustice. Elizabeth completed the measure of her happiness by the invitation which she brought. Miss Mertens had intended to go to the little village inn until she could find lodgings.
"But now we will go to your house together as soon as possible," she said, her face beaming with joy. "The baroness, a short time ago, sent me my salary, requesting that I would not again enter her presence, and Bella passed through my room without even looking at me,—that grieves me, grieves me very deeply, for I have cherished her like the apple of my eye. Her health used to be very delicate, and while her mother has been absent, attending the court balls, I have sat by her bedside and watched her feverish slumbers night after night. Now it is all forgotten,—but I only meant to let you know that I need not take leave of either of them."