"Eleonore!" repeated Reinhold.
She raised her eyes to him. Intense pain still rested on her face, but her voice sounded under perfect control again.
"What have I said then? That I shall never make use of the freedom which your step gave me? That was certain from the first; without this the experience of my marriage protects me from any second one. I have my child, and in it the object and happiness of my life. I require no other love."
"You, certainly not," said Reinhold, with quivering lip, "and my doom is indifferent to you--you have always loved your child only, and never me. For his sake you could break through all the prejudices of your bringing up and become another woman; you could not do it for your husband."
"Did he then ever give me such love as I found in my child?" asked Ella, in a very low voice. "Let it be, Reinhold! You know who stands between us, and will ever stand."
"Beatrice? I will not accuse her, although she was more to blame for my departure then than you perhaps believe. Yet, I was always master of my will--why did I yield to the fascination? But if I have now recognised its deception, and tear myself away--"
"Will you forsake her, as you forsook me?" interrupted his wife, in reproachful condemnation. "Do you think that that could reconcile us? I have lost all belief in you, Reinhold, and it will not be restored to me, even if you sacrifice a second person now. I have no cause for sparing or considering this Biancona, but she loves you; she offered up all for you, and you yourself gave her an undisputed right of possession for years. If even you would now destroy the fetters you forged for yourself she would still part us for ever. It is too late; I cannot trust you any more."
Immeasurable sadness rang in the last words, but at the same time unbending firmness. In the next moment Ella had left the room. Reinhold was alone.
It was on the day following this entertainment, already towards evening, when Captain Almbach entered Reinhold's drawing-room.