"No," was the short, but decided reply.
"But these salons are not opened many times during the year. Why do you not hang the picture in your study?"
"Why should I?" asked the Baron, coldly. "Your aunt never came there. I had her portrait brought to the drawing-room, which is certainly its most fitting place. Well, what do you think of the state-apartments at the Castle? It is the first time you have seen them fully lighted up."
This sudden diversion proved how irksome to him had been the previous topic. Without more ado, he took Gabrielle's arm, led her away from her aunt's portrait, and began a tour of inspection through the rooms, pointing out and explaining many objects of interest. The folding-doors were all thrown back, so that the eye could wander at will throughout the long and glittering vista. A princely residence, indeed, the Governor could boast, and the grave and somewhat antique style of decoration was in keeping with the architectural taste of the building. The rich ornamentation of walls and ceilings, the deep window-niches and high marble fire-places, dated from the Castle's earlier times. They had been left untouched; but to them had been associated costly damask or satin hangings, heavy velvet curtains, rich gilding, all of which, illuminated by innumerable wax-lights, produced a really dazzling effect.
The young Baroness Harder was not one to remain unimpressed by such a scene. She perfectly revelled in the bright surroundings, as, with a heart brimming over with gladness and expectation, she tripped along by her guardian's side. She had very quickly regained all her old ease of manner in her intercourse with him. That strange hour by the 'Nixies' Well' had long since been forgotten, together with the transient seriousness it had called forth. Like a dream, its influences had come upon her; swiftly and traceless as a dream they had vanished again from her mind. On that sunny ground nothing approaching a shadow could for any length of time hold its own. Gabrielle certainly felt that during the last few days the Baron had treated her with unwonted gentleness and indulgence. He had even determined on giving this ball, in order that, as he said, certain restless little feet might have a chance of dancing themselves weary. It was an unheard-of concession from him, who looked on all festive gatherings at the Castle as so many onerous duties imposed on him by etiquette, so many drawbacks to his position; but the young lady was too accustomed to be spoiled by her parents and all about her, to be struck with any special surprise at the favour shown her. She met her guardian's kindness, as she had previously met his stern reserve, with the petulance and whimsical caprice of a child. Today the thought of the coming fête drove all else into the background. Sparkling and overflowing with all sorts of droll and merry conceits, the clear ripple of her laughter broke again and again on the solemn stillness of those stately galleries.
Raven was grave and silent as usual; but he listened to her chatter with visible satisfaction, and his eyes were fixed, as though unconsciously, on the blooming young creature hanging on his arm and looking up at him with happy, beaming, radiant eyes. Gabrielle had never appeared more lovely than on this evening in her cloud-like white ball-dress, twined here and there with flowery wreaths, and with a garland of blossoms daintily set on her fair head. So fascinating was her charm, so dewy-fresh her youthful grace and beauty, she might have been one of the airy mischievous elves of the legend quickened into life and come hither to disport itself. In the sea of light which streamed through the halls, she was the culminating point of brightness.
They had finished their round, and arrived at the principal reception-room, which was adorned with the portraits of divers historical and princely personages. A dazzling chandelier lit up the splendid, but as yet untenanted, space, which, in spite of its festive decorations, was almost awesome in its stillness and emptiness. No sound was to be heard but the Baron's echoing step and the rustle of his companion's dress.
"It is like being in an enchanted castle," said Gabrielle, playfully. "We are the only living creatures amid all this sleeping splendour. I had no idea you had so many fine things at your disposal, Uncle Arno. It must be grand to feel one's self the master of such a place."
The Baron cast a general, highly indifferent glance around, as he replied:
"You think there is something very enviable in that, no doubt. I myself have never attached much importance to these adjuncts of my position."