"We will leave that," said Raven. "The report can stand over for to-day. I have other matters to discuss with you."
George looked up in astonishment, and only then became aware of his chiefs altered attitude. The dignified calm with which that personage was wont to receive his officials had stiffened into freezing hauteur.
He stood leaning against the bureau, and eyed the young man before him from head to foot, as though he then saw him for the first time, scanning his features with a severe, unerring scrutiny which seemed to pierce him through and through. Undisguised hostility was expressed in that steady, frowning gaze, as it was, indeed, in the Baron's whole bearing.
George saw this at a glance, and at once understood the words which had struck him as enigmatical. He understood that he alone was the object of the Baron's displeasure, and guessed what had provoked it. The long-looked-for catastrophe had come at last, and the young man braced himself to face it with quiet resolution.
"I have this morning had an interview with my ward, Baroness Harder, in which your name was mentioned," began the Governor. "No explanations are required from you. I already know what has happened, and I must call you to account for the manner in which you have misled that young lady, causing her to fail most unpardonably in the sincerity and respect she owes to her family."
George cast down his eyes. His quick sense of honour allowed the reproach as well-founded.
"I have possibly erred in remaining silent until now," he replied. "My only excuse lies in the fact that my position has not yet qualified me to prefer my suit openly."
"Indeed? I should have thought that such an obstacle in the way of your suit would also have prohibited a declaration of your sentiments."
"Had it been premeditated, certainly; but, your Excellency, that was not the case. In an unguarded moment my secret escaped me: only when it had found utterance, when my words had been accepted, did reflection regain the upper hand; and then I was forced to confess to myself that for the present I could advance no grounds entitling me to approach Baroness Harder as a suitor for her daughter's hand."
"It is well you make the admission yourself," remarked the Baron, with withering scorn. "I should otherwise have been under the necessity of making the fact clear to you. If Fräulein von Harder has made you promises, they, naturally, count for nothing, having been given without my knowledge or her mother's; and it would be simply absurd for you to build on them. Romantic notions should be left to the domain of romance. I regret that my niece should have lent an ear to such extravagant folly, but you will hardly expect me to deal with it as a matter calling for serious consideration."