"And now that you have become acquainted with him?"
"Do you wish for my judgment upon your new creation? The world says it is a masterwork."
"It was a confession," said he with strong emphasis. "I did not, indeed, imagine that you would hear it, but as it was so--did you understand it?"
His wife was silent.
"I only saw your eyes for one moment," continued he passionately, "but I saw that tears stood in them. Did you understand me, Ella?"
"I comprehended that the author of such tones could not endure the narrow circle of my parent's house," replied Ella firmly, "and that perhaps he chose the best for himself when he broke through it and plunged into a life full of warmth and passion, such as his music paints. You have sacrificed everything to your genius--I bear you testimony that this genius was worthy of the sacrifice."
The last words sounded intensely bitter; they seemed to have touched the same chord in Reinhold.
"You do not know how cruel you are," said he in a like tone, "or rather you know it only too well, and make me suffer tenfold for every pang I once caused you. What indeed is it to you, if I rise or succumb in a life which the world deems unequalled happiness, which I often, so often already, would have given away for a single hour of rest and peace! What is it to you, if your husband, the father of your child, be devoured with wild longing for reconciliation with a past which he could never quite tear out of his heart, if at last he despairs of everything and of himself! He has merited his fate; therefore the rod was broken over him, and the elevated, virtuous pride of his wife denies him every word of reconciliation, denies him even the sight of his child--"
"For Heaven's sake, Reinhold, control yourself," interrupted Ella anxiously. "We are not alone here--if a stranger heard us!"
He laughed bitterly--