With an expression of indescribable pride Gertrud lifted her head, her eyes met his, large, and full of disdain, and not the slightest trace of agitation trembled now in her voice, but there was a touch of compassionate scorn as she replied, quietly--
"You are mistaken, Herr von Reinert; I do not hate you, and have not been made unhappy through you."
"Well, then, I am unhappy!" said Eugen, bluntly. "Since the moment when I left you, I have never known happiness. I could not forget the past, and now that I must meet you again, I am driven to despair!"
With his old passion he threw himself down where she had just been sitting, and pressed his hand against his brow. Gertrud stood before him; who, that was witness of the mute, but powerful conflict, which, but a few minutes since, had agitated the girl's whole being, would have understood the calm collectedness with which she now looked down upon her former lover.
"Eugen!"
He sprang up, but she gravely motioned him back.
"Do not misunderstand me. I address you now as the playfellow of my childish days, whom I have never called anything else. If what torments you is the thought of my presumed unhappiness--my loneliness, be calm, such a reproach I can bear from you. If I have suffered from our separation, it was only through my pride, which rose at the humiliation of being forsaken, my heart had no part in it, for I, Eugen--I have never loved you!"
"Gertrud!"
"Never!" repeated she, firmly. "You released me for the good of us both! perhaps, else, I should have had to confess to you that I could never be your wife."
"Impossible!" cried Eugen, springing up. "If you did not love me, why--"