'And I him; but in this life we cannot stay to consult our feelings. When Fate decrees a separation, we must perforce submit and obey.'
The remark was intended to be playful, but the young man's voice thrilled with a certain sadness. His gaze rested on Hedwig as she stood before him, leaning slightly against the wooden railing. The Councillor's anxiety must have been exaggerated. His daughter appeared rosy and blooming, full of grace and charm as ever.
No tittle of change could be detected in her outward appearance, and yet she seemed quite other than the merry capricious fairy who had emerged so unexpectedly before two travellers from the clouds of drifting, driving snow. The flower which has blossomed in the full sunshine, but on which suddenly a shadow falls, remains in form and hue the same; it sends forth the same fragrance, only the sunlight has gone from it. Such a shadow now lay on the face of Count Ettersberg's happy, much-envied chosen bride, and the dark blue eyes had a dewy shimmer, as though they had learned a trick which so long had been unknown to them--the trick of tears.'
'The separation will be painful to you, then?' Hedwig said, continuing the conversation.'
'Certainly. In the great city, a longing will often come over me, a longing for Edmund and ... for the dear old mountains.'
'And none for Ettersberg?'
'None.'
The answer was so brief and decided that the girl looked up in surprise. Oswald noticed this, and added, by way of amendment:
'Forgive me. I forgot that Ettersberg will shortly be your home. I was thinking only of the circumstances which have made my sojourn there a painful one, and which no doubt have long been known to you.'
'But surely the circumstances you speak of have been modified. The family now place no obstacle in the way of your future career.'