"What do you say? What do you mean?" said the young man angrily, while a deep colour spread over his face.
Hugo crossed his arms and looked fiercely at him--
"It strikes me you are now suddenly coming forward with ready-made plans, which have certainly long been arranged, and probably well talked over. Do not deny it Reinhold! You, by yourself, would never have gone to such extremities as you do now in the disputes with my uncle, listening to no advice or representations; there is some foreign influence at work. Is it really absolutely necessary that you should go day after day to Biancona?"
Reinhold vouchsafed no reply; he turned away, and so withdrew himself from his brother's observation.
"It is talked of already in the town," continued the latter. "It cannot continue long without the report reaching here. Is it a matter of perfect indifference to you?"
"Signora Biancona is studying my new composition," said Reinhold shortly, "and I only see in her the ideal of an actress. You admired her also?"
"Admired, yes! At least in the beginning. She never attracted me. The beautiful Signora has something too vampire-like in her eyes. I fear that whoever it be, upon whom she fixes those eyes with the intention of holding him fast, will require a powerful dose of strength of will in order to remain master of himself."
At the last words he had gone to his brother's side, who now turned round slowly and looked at him.
"Have you experienced that already?" he asked, gloomily.
"I? No!" replied Hugo, with a touch of his old mocking humour. "Fortunately I am very unimpressionable as regards such-like romantic dangers, besides being sufficiently used to them. Call it frivolity--inconstancy--what you will--but a woman cannot fascinate me long or deeply; the passionate element is wanting in me. You have it only too strongly, and when you encounter anything of the sort, the danger lies close by. Take care of yourself, Reinhold!"