"Of course! They were sent after us from the residence, and the sender of this letter," he lifted up the one, "you will not guess, I am sure. My newest work has brought in one thing at any rate, which is more precious to me than all the ovations with which we have been overwhelmed--a letter from Cesario. You know how deeply hurt he withdrew from us and rendered impossible every attempt on my part at approaching him or being reconciled. He could not forgive you for having so long been silent towards him, nor me, that I stood in the way of his happiness; I have had no sign of his being alive for three years, as you know. The first performance of my opera in Italy has broken the ice at last; he writes again with the old cordiality and enthusiasm, congratulates me upon my new work, which he exalts far above its deserts, and announces at the same time his intended marriage with the daughter of Princess Orvieto. She will be his wife in a few weeks."
Ella had stepped to her husband's side, and over his shoulder read the letter which he held in his hand, and in which there was not a single word of allusion to her.
"Do you know the bride?" asked she at last.
"Only a little! I saw her once only in her father's house, and merely remember her as a pretty lively child. She was educated in a convent, and then was paying a short visit in her parents' house. But I know that this union, even in those days, was a favourite wish of the families on both sides, to which Cesario's dislike to every bond which could fetter his future, as to any marriage in fact, was the only obstacle. Now, when years have passed, and the young Princess is grown up, they appear to have resumed the plan again, and Cesario has given way to his relations' pressure. Whether this marriage de convenance can give what such an ardent romantic nature as his is requires, is certainly another question."
Ella looked thoughtfully on the ground--
"You said though, that the bride is young and pretty, and Cesario is surely the man to inspire love in such a youthful creature, who is just entering life from a convent's education."
"We will hope so," said Reinhold gravely. "The second letter is from Hugo, and dated from----"
A slight blush passed over the young wife's countenance, as she asked with lively eagerness--
"Well, is he coming at last? May we expect him?"
Reinhold shook his head gently--