"O papa, you must not think of me now! I--I am quite relieved to know that you will be so richly compensated for all the past humiliations. I was only a little startled, taken by surprise at the sudden news. We never could have counted on the succession."
"Never!" said the Baron gloomily. "Rabenau was young and strong, he was about to be married. Who could have guessed that a three days' illness would have carried him off? But, if he was fated to die, why, oh! why could this event not have happened sooner? A month ago, half, nay, a quarter of the wealth now flowing in upon me would have saved us. I could have flung back his money to the rogue who brought my misfortunes on me, with the hundredfold rate of usury which he claimed, and my only daughter would not have been the price of his vile bargain. I accepted your sacrifice, Eugénie, God knows not for my own sake, but for that of the name we bear, and to secure my sons' future. Now, when I think that all that bitter sacrifice was in vain, that a short chance delay of a few weeks would have spared it us both, I cannot endure this mockery of Fate."
He pressed her hand tightly in his. But, by this time, Eugénie had won back all her pride and complete composure. If this "too late" were terrible in its effect upon her, she did not allow it to be seen.
"You must not speak so, papa," she replied firmly. "It would be unjust to your other children. Count Rabenau was such, that we can only formally mourn his death, and it sets you free from much trouble and embarrassment. My marriage only averted the most threatening danger. There remained burdens enough upon us, which weighed heavily and might one day have brought you again into degrading dependence on that man. All fear of this is now over for ever, you can pay him back the whole of what you have received, we shall owe him nothing more!"
"But he will owe us," interrupted Windeg bitterly, "and he will take good care never to pay his debt; it is the thought of that which turns my joy to gall. A short time back I should have greeted this deliverance with delight, and with the keenest sense of relief, now it drives me to despair on your account."
Eugénie turned away and bent over some flowers which bloomed in a vase at her side.
"I am not so unhappy as you and my brothers perhaps fancy," said she, in a low voice.
"Not? Do you think your letters could deceive me? I knew beforehand that you would do all to spare us, but if I could have had a doubt, your pale face would have told the story plainly enough. You are unhappy, Eugénie, you must be unhappy with this man who"----
"Papa, you are speaking of my husband!" The young wife spoke with so much warmth, and rose so hastily from her seat, that her father stepped back and looked at her, astonished at her tone and at the crimson flush which overspread her countenance.
"Forgive me," said he, recovering himself, "I cannot accustom myself to the thought that my daughter belongs to an Arthur Berkow, and that I am at the present moment in his house. They oblige me to enter it if I wish to see my own child! But you are right, I must spare you in speaking of the man you have married, though I can see plainly how much you have suffered, and still have to suffer through him."