Reinhard assented, with a wry face.
"She is certainly very pretty," said the young girl. "Herr von Walde seems much interested," she added, in a lower tone, as the rider leaned from his saddle, and appeared to be listening intently to what the young lady was saying.
"Oh, he does not wish to be rude, and therefore gives her a moment's attention. She would talk the moon out of the sky, and, I verily believe, would seize and hang upon the horse's bridle if she saw any danger of his leaving before she had finished what she had to say."
In the mean time they had reached the vestibule. Here Elizabeth took leave of Reinhard, and betook herself to the music-room, where she found Fräulein von Walde and Hollfeld. The former retired for a moment to her dressing-room, to arrange her curls, that were somewhat out of order, and Hollfeld took advantage of this moment to approach Elizabeth, who had retired to the recess of a window, and was turning over the leaves of a music-book.
"We were provokingly disturbed the other day," he whispered.
"We?" she asked, with emphasis, retreating a step or two. "I, indeed, had reason to complain of being disturbed. I was much provoked, I assure you, by the interruption of my reading."
"Oh, every inch a queen!" he cried jestingly, but in a low tone of voice. "I certainly did not intend to offend you,—on the contrary, do you not know what that rose meant?"
"It would most certainly say that it would a thousand times rather be left to perish upon its stalk than be plucked for such idle purposes."
"Cruel girl! You are hard as marble. Can you not guess, then, what lures me hither daily?"
"Admiration, doubtless, for our great composers."