"An egotist, I grant you," said Frau Ferber, "and that explains Bertha's conduct and manner."
"That would be a fine affair," cried the forester angrily, "to think that I should have been hoodwinked like any old fool in a comedy! I will sift the matter now to the bottom, and woe to the girl if she has really dared to bring disgrace upon herself and me!"
The dinner was a very quiet one. The forester was out of sorts, and would have extorted a confession from Bertha upon the spot had not Frau Ferber prayed him to wait for a few days. After coffee the guests left the Lodge; the forester threw his rifle across his shoulder, and plunged into the forest, which, as he said, always soothed and brought him to reason.
Elizabeth dressed herself for the concert, that is, she put on a simple, white muslin dress, whose only decoration was a bouquet of fresh wild flowers. Her mother tied around her neck a little locket attached to a very narrow black velvet ribbon, and this was her toilet, which would certainly have seemed most embarrassingly simple to most young girls going for the first time among a large assemblage of brilliantly-dressed people; but Elizabeth, if she thought of it at all, congratulated herself upon the delicate neatness of her muslin, and would rather not have worn her mother's little ornament on this occasion, as she considered that she was to appear only as a musician and not as one of the guests, and that her fingers were all that she need be anxious about. She was rather annoyed that the arms above these same fingers were bare, and that her dress was low-necked. She had hitherto never worn a dress that did not cover her neck to her chin, and could not see why the fashionable world had decided that women should be decolleté in large assemblies. She thought as little of the exquisite form and dazzling whiteness of her shoulders and arms as of the beauty and grace of her head, which, with its heavy braids of golden hair, was set so exquisitely upon her finely-moulded neck. Her mother herself had arranged her hair to-day, and it clustered in short shining curls above her forehead, contrasting wondrously with the delicately pencilled but decided arch of the dark eyebrows. And Frau Ferber could not but agree with Miss Mertens, who, as she watched Elizabeth disappear upon the forest path, declared with enthusiasm that she was supernaturally lovely. The mother had just acknowledged to herself that her child's beauty had unfolded in a most striking degree.
When Elizabeth entered the vestibule of Castle Lindhof she encountered Dr. Fels, who, with his wife upon his arm, was just turning down one of the corridors. She hastened towards him, and accosted him gaily, for her heart had been beating anxiously as she approached the castle, at the thought that she should be obliged to enter entirely alone the spacious saloon, where the greater part of the company were doubtless already assembled. The doctor received her most cordially, and presented her to his wife, in an undertone, as "yesterday's heroine." Both gladly took her under their protection. The large folding-doors were flung open, and Elizabeth was grateful for the lucky star that had allowed her to take shelter behind the tall, commanding figure of the doctor's wife, for she was at first rather overcome at sight of the large, richly-decorated apartment, over whose highly-polished floor glided the costly dresses of the ladies and the polished boots of the gentlemen. In the centre of the saloon stood the Baroness Lessen, arrayed in magnificent dark-blue moire-antique, and receiving the guests. She returned the salutations of the doctor and his wife very politely, but very coolly, and replied to the doctor's question, "Where is Herr von Walde?" by pointing to a knot of men standing near a window, whence issued a murmur like the Babylonish confusion of tongues.
While Fels and his wife walked towards the spot, Elizabeth gladly and gratefully obeyed a gesture from Helene, who, sitting at another window, hurriedly and agitatedly informed her that she had suddenly had an attack of what is called "stage fright;" that she was in overwhelming terror at playing before so many people, and would rather creep into a mouse-hole. And then she begged Elizabeth, instead of the four-handed composition with which the concert was to open, to play a sonata of Beethoven's, a wish with which Elizabeth immediately complied. Her embarrassment vanished. She stepped up to the table where the music was lying, and selected the sonata which she was to play. Meanwhile, carriage after carriage rolled into the court-yard. The folding-doors opened and closed incessantly upon such quantities of tulle and velvet and lace, which were crowded into the saloon, that Elizabeth smiled pityingly at the thought of her simple white muslin, so soon to loose its unwrinkled smoothness in such a crush of crinoline.
She could very easily decide, from the manner of the baroness, upon the social rank of the guests. One gracious wave of the feather-crowned head of the great lady answered every social requirement whenever she received untitled guests, and these untitled guests did their part well in acknowledging and respecting this aristocratic reserve. All, in obedience to a gesture from the baroness, first made their way towards the window where stood Herr von Walde,—who, however, remained entirely invisible to Elizabeth,—and then scattered into single groups, either awaiting the opening of the concert, or engaged in conversation among themselves.
Suddenly the doors flew open again, and a corpulent old lady hobbled in upon the arm of an equally aged gentleman, whose coat glittered with orders,—and with them came Fräulein von Quittelsdorf. The baroness hastened toward these guests, and Fräulein von Walde also arose with difficulty, and, taking Hollfeld's arm, went to meet the aged pair, while all the ladies standing around her followed like the tail of a comet. The crowd of men at the window divided suddenly as by magic, and Herr von Walde's lofty figure appeared.
"We must come to you, if we wish to see you, naughty man!" cried the old lady, shaking her forefinger at him, as she hobbled towards him. "You see, in spite of my poor feet, and although you have neglected me shamefully, I am here to-day to offer you my congratulations."
He bowed, and said a few words to her, to which she replied by laughingly tapping him upon the shoulder with her fan. Then he conducted her to an arm-chair, where she seated herself with much majesty.