Summer had come round again. The lake and the town on its shores lay bathed in bright sunshine; the mountains, wreathed around in thin mist, rose half shadowy in the distance. Rudolph Brunnow's house, once so small and unpretending, was much more handsome of aspect now. The garden had been nearly doubled in size by purchase of the adjacent lots of ground, and the dwelling-house itself had been rebuilt and considerably enlarged, room now being required in it for two families. Young Dr. Brunnow was in the habit of going his rounds in the morning, but on this particular day his patients looked for him in vain. Max stood idly in the garden, talking to a guest who had arrived half an hour before.
"Come with me now, George, that I may have you to myself a little," said he, urgently. "If my father gets hold of you, he will not let you out of his hands again, and I consider your visit is to me in the first place. It was a surprise! I had no idea you were in Switzerland."
"I came on an official errand," replied George; "a mission to our embassy at B----. My business there was settled more quickly than I expected, and I could not refuse myself the pleasure of looking in upon you on my return journey."
The last four years had wrought but little change in Winterfeld. He had grown somewhat more manly, more matured, and his carriage, always calm and assured, had gained in dignity. The former transparent pallor of his complexion had long since yielded to the brighter tint of health; but his brow, once so clear, was clouded by a shadow, and the beautiful blue eyes, which in the old days had been grave only, were sombre now, gloomy even, in their expression. This man of two-and-thirty, so fortunate in his position and prospects, seemed to carry about with him some secret care which took all zest from life. Max Brunnow's appearance, on the other hand, completely bore out his assertion that he found himself very comfortable in this good-for-nothing world, and amply testified to the fact that Agnes had quickly learned to excel in all matronly virtues.
"I say, George," asked Max, in the course of their conversation, "how long is it to be before you are Minister?"
George laughed.
"A good many years, probably. As a preliminary, I am now Ministerial Councillor."
"And the right hand of the men in office, the soul of the present administration. Oh, we are well up here as to all that is going on in the capital. My father-in-law keeps me exactly informed on the subject. The good city of R---- still does a little in the opposition line, the result, probably, of long habit. The new Governor is Liberal to the backbone, and tolerance itself. They cannot find any real fault with him, and this, of course, is aggravating to them."
"They miss the mighty personal influence which Raven exercised, and which compelled admiration even from his enemies," said George. "The present Governor is honest and well-meaning, but he is not a man of extraordinary mark, and is, perhaps, hardly equal to so important and responsible a post. So the Councillor still lives on in R----. I thought he would migrate at last, in order to be near his daughter."
"The bare notion was an insult," laughed Max, "You imagined that my father-in-law, the very quintessence of loyalty, would accord to a pitiful republic the honour of possessing him as a citizen? No, he will live and die under the wing of his most gracious sovereign. To tell the truth, I doubt whether things would always go smoothly, were the old gentleman and my father to be constantly in presence. They are too strongly in contrast ever to agree thoroughly."