This was a tone of command, of menace, and Cecilia looked up at her brother with shy eyes. It was not the first time, that he had bent her under his will, but so earnestly and darkly he had never spoken to her before. She heaved an impatient sigh and threw herself into a chair; but she did not think of making any further opposition.
The pause of a second ensued, when Oscar stepped up to her, and his voice was milder as he said:
"How you do allow yourself to be carried away by your feelings! Other girls would give anything in the world to change places with you; thousands at this moment, are envying your fate, while you are disposed to throw away your good fortune, like a toy that did not please you--yours is not a calculating nature."
"But you are!" said Cecilia, in an angry and embittered tone.
"I?" Again Wildenrod's face darkened. "I am and have been many a thing that my spirit revolted against. He who has battled with the waves of life for twelve long years, like myself, knows only one watchword. Stay on top, at any price! Thank God, that you have been spared this battle, and thank me for landing you safe on shore ere you knew of the perils to which you were exposed. You are to enter a highly-respected family, your marriage will give you a right to almost countless wealth, and your future husband knows no greater happiness than to gratify your wishes--I think that is enough."
"And what will you do when I am married?" asked Cecilia, struck by his words, that she only half understood.
"Commit that to me!" A fleeting smile flashed across Oscar's features. "At all events, I do not intend to live on my rich sister's charity, for I was not made for such a fate--Now, good-night, child; you will be more prudent in future, and never let a hint drop of Odensburg not being to your mind. I hope you will need no second lecture."
He lightly touched her brow with his lips and passed into his own chamber that adjoined the boudoir. Out of doors it was already dark, and the Manor was wrapt in silence and gloom, only a candle glimmering here and there in the rooms of individuals. The wind had lulled, and profound quiet reigned in the immediate environs.
But over yonder at the works there was still astir that mighty throbbing life, that rested not fully, even during the night, and if by day it was heard only in occasional, far-away sounds, now every noise made there was distinctly heard. At times there was a great glare of light from the blazing forges, while here and there one of the huge chimneys sent up a flashing spark to the starless sky, and there where the furnaces lay, the vaporous wreaths of smoke were reddened by the glow of the fire. It was a sublime and fascinating spectacle.
Oscar Wildenrod seemed to find it so, too, for he stood long at the window and gazed out. The admiration that he had expressed in the afternoon had not been assumed. His breast heaved with the deep breath he drew, and he said in an undertone: