His words sounded almost like a command. Alice arose, put her hand within his arm, and they left the conservatory together.
"Herr Elmhorst seems to have a decided predilection for command," Waltenberg said, ironically, looking after them. "His tone was decidedly that of the future lord and master, and upon the very day of his betrothal. Fräulein Nordheim's choice seems surprising to me in more than one sense."
"Alice's is a very gentle, docile nature," Erna observed.
"So much the worse. Her lover seems to have no conception that it is this connection alone that raises him to a position to which he could not personally lay any claim."
The young girl had risen and approached a group of plants, whose heavy crimson blossoms hung amid dark green leaves. After a moment's pause she rejoined, "I do not think Wolfgang Elmhorst a man to allow himself to be 'raised.'"
"Why, then, should her---- Pardon me, I ought not to say one word in disapproval of your future relative."
Erna did not reply, and he seemed to take her silence as a permission to proceed, for he continued, very gravely: "Do you think inclination plays any part in his suit?"
"No."
The word was uttered with a certain harshness, as the girl's face leaned half hidden among the crimson flowers.
"Nor do I, and my opinion of Herr Elmhorst is based upon that conviction. Pray, Fräulein Thurgau, do not inhale the fragrance of those blossoms so closely; I know the plant,--its odour is delicious but mischievous, and will give you headache. Be careful."