"Not by any fault of mine!" replied Gerald. "I tried every possible means of obtaining her consent. For months, in my letters to her, I have entreated, pleaded, raged--all in vain. Her sole answer was the stern 'no,' the obstinate prohibition, till I was at last forced to remember that I am no longer a child, but a man who knows what he desires in life, and will not suffer his happiness to be destroyed by prejudices. You are right, we have purchased this happiness dearly; it will cost us both home and the love of our nearest relatives--do you think the price too high for what we have obtained?"
There was passionate tenderness in the question, and his young wife's look gave him a fitting answer.
After a pause she said gently:
"Then you will not enter your home again, will not even try to personally induce your mother--"
"No," Gerald resolutely interrupted. "She refuses to see you, so I shall not go to her. I know what I owe my wife; either Castle Steinach will receive you as its future mistress, or it will never see me within its walls. I know the hostile influence acting against us; my mother may be stern and proud, but this boundless harshness to her only son is no part of her character; it is Arlow's work! You know that after our betrothal, I wrote to him frankly and unreservedly, but with the respect of a son; he vouchsafed no reply, but instantly wrote to my mother, representing the affair to her from his point of view. She received the first news from him before my letter reached her hands, and how the tidings were conveyed I perceived from her reply. Since his return home he has constantly fanned the flames, and at last made an open breach."
"I can endure his hatred," said Danira, whose eyes were still fixed upon the house. "I have unintentionally thwarted his favorite wish, and he always cherished an aversion towards me, but to have Edith turn from me in persistent resentment was at first more than I could bear. She knows from my letter how and where we met, knows that mortal peril first brought me to your arms. I concealed nothing, and, with all the ardent love of the friend, the sister, implored her forgiveness if I had caused her pain--she has not sent even one line in answer."
"Her father would not have allowed it, his command----"
"Edith never lets herself be denied anything. She is accustomed to obey the voice of her heart, and is all-powerful with her father. Had she wished to write me she would have done so, in spite of any opposing influence; but she cannot pardon me for robbing her of your love--I understand that."
Gerald was silent; he would not own how heavily this unforgiving resentment on the part of his mother and Edith weighed upon him. It cast a dark shadow on the happiness of the newly-wedded pair.
Meantime the conversation between the officers had grown louder and more animated, and Lieutenant Salten now said: