"I thought I was the first in the park today, but I see the gentlemen are already before me, and are holding a most important conference here."
Hermann shrugged his shoulders.
"Important, yes, but entirely without result! I have been trying in vain for an hour to convince Eugen of the necessity of his companionship on my tour to Italy."
"What, Herr Reinert," and the beautiful woman glanced surprised and reproachfully at the young artist. "You hesitate? I thought it was a settled matter, and fully expected to see you again in Rome with Hermann."
Eugen was silent, and sent across a half pleading, half threatening glance to Hermann, who appeared not to see it, for he replied calmly--
"You were mistaken, Antonie; Eugen has altered his plans. He declines to go, and prefers returning to his native town, to lead his fiancée--"
"Hermann!" cried Eugen, who had hitherto vainly endeavoured to put in a word.
"To lead his fiancée, a Bürgermädchen there, to the hymeneal altar," concluded Hermann, not the least disturbed.
But these words had a formidable effect upon Antonie. For the first moment she was deadly pale, and her hand unconsciously grasped the arm of the chair to support herself, then a sudden flush suffused her countenance, and a flash shot from her dark eyes--a glance which disfigured the beautiful face, a glance which seemed ready to annihilate Eugen, who stood resistless before her. Then, gathering together all her strength, she turned away from both to the window, thus shielding at least her countenance from Hermann's sharply observant eyes.
The latter evidently felt that a third was superfluous in the explanation, which must inevitably follow, Antonie already knew enough. He took up his hat from the table--