The young girl mournfully shook her head. "I cannot--your name is no more to be mentioned in his presence. If it happens, by any chance, it makes him furiously angry. And he did love you so! Dear me, why do people have to hate one another so desperately, just because they belong to two different political parties? I really do not understand it."
Maia's sweet girlish voice sounded soft and pleading, but nevertheless each of her words pierced Egbert's soul, like a glowing reproach. He could stand it no longer.
"Let that be, Maia," said he, controlling his emotion by a great effort. "He must accept it as a stroke of destiny, that we all find it hard to bear. And you, poor child! have we drawn you into the net, too, and destroyed the sunny cheerfulness of your spirits?"
The face of the young girl suddenly flushed up, her head drooped, and softly, almost shyly, she answered:
"No, no--I am often enough ashamed that, in spite of all this, I am so excessively happy; and yet I cannot help it. Do not look at me in such surprise, Egbert. Strangers, to be sure, are not to know it yet, because we are still wearing mourning for our poor Eric, but I can tell you already that I--well, that I am a betrothed bride."
Egbert started back in astonishment. Hitherto he had always considered Maia in the light of a child. It had not occurred to him that love could have already come to her. Now the unexpected news called a fleeting smile to his gloomy countenance, and full of cordiality he stretched out his hands to his youthful playmate. "Does our little Maia actually have to do with such things?" asked he with an attempt at playfulness.
"But I am not so little any more," protested Maia, with a charming pout, while she stood on tip-toe and looked him roguishly in the eye. "See, I already reach up to your shoulders, and his too."
"His? Why, I have not even asked after the name of your intended. What is it?"
"Oscar," whispered Maia softly.
"What did you say?" said Egbert in shocked surprise.