"Did you really come on our account?" cried Danira, with eager joy. "Oh, you do not suspect what this welcome from your lips is to me--to us both."
The young lady drew back a step, with a comic assumption of formality.
"Don't be so impetuous, madame! I have another important mission to discharge, and must maintain my dignity as official ambassador. Castle Steinach sends a greeting to its young master and mistress, and is ready to receive them. They will find open hearts and arms there. Here is a letter from your mother, Gerald; only a few lines, in which she calls her son and daughter to her."
"Edith--this is impossible--is it your work?" cried Gerald, still doubting as he took the note which bore his mother's handwriting.
"My first essay in diplomacy! I think it hasn't resulted so badly, and it wasn't very easy either; for both aunt and papa were united against me. But now you must let me have Danira to myself for half an hour, Gerald. We must part again immediately, and I want to have her alone at least once more."
"Part! Why, surely you will go with us?"
"No, I shall take the next express train and join my father in G. But your mother expects you at Steinach this very day, and you ought not to keep her waiting; great preparations have been made for your reception."
Meanwhile Gerald had hastily torn open and glanced through the letter, which he now handed to his wife. It really contained only a few lines, but they confirmed Edith's words. It was the greeting of a mother calling her children to her.
"How do you do, Fräulein? I'm here again, too!" said George, taking advantage of the momentary pause to introduce himself, and he saw with satisfaction that he was not forgotten.
The old mischievous smile hovered round the young lady's lips as she turned toward him.