Wildenrod made an involuntary movement when he heard this sentence pronounced so positively. Dernburg was silent; he only supported his head upon his hand, but it was easy to see what a heavy blow was inflicted upon him, by the doctor's outspoken opinion, although he must have had a foreboding of what it would be.

"That means, then, that I must bid farewell to all the plans that I have been cherishing so long," said he softly. "I hoped against hope--nevertheless, Eric is my only son. I want his life preserved, even though my dearest hopes be buried thereby. Let him, then, establish a home somewhere in the South, and limit his activity to building and adorning it--I can afford it."

A heavy, half-suppressed sigh betrayed what this resolve cost him. Then he turned to the physician and offered him his hand.

"I thank you for your candor, Doctor. Although the truth be bitter, I must accommodate myself to it. Let us speak more particularly of it another time!"

Hagenbach took his leave. For a few minutes silence prevailed in the room, then Wildenrod asked in a subdued voice: "Did that sentence surprise you? It did not me, I have long feared something of the sort. If Eric only soundly recovers, then, I hope, you and he will both find the separation a lighter trial than you apprehend."

"Eric will find it very light," said Dernburg, with swelling bitterness. "He has always dreaded assuming the position in life to which he was born. He shrank back before this mighty, restless enterprise, of which he was to be master and leader, with all its duties and responsibilities. He will far rather sit on the shore of the blue Mediterranean, making plans for his villa, and be glad if nothing disturbs him in his dreamy repose. And I am left alone here; forced, one day, to leave my Odensburg, my life-work, to pass into the hands of strangers. It is hard!"

"Must you really do that?" asked Oscar significantly, drawing nearer as he spoke. "You have still a daughter who can give you a second son, but you persistently refuse to the man of her choice the rights of a son."

Dernburg made a gesture expressive of his repugnance to the thought suggested.

"Let that be! Not now----"

"Just now, at this hour, I would like to speak to you. You have taken my wooing of Maia in a manner that I have neither expected nor deserved. You almost reproached me for it as if I had committed a crime."