"And in the same year I shall be of age--and free!"
"Free!" sneered Nordheim. "How grand it sounds! Have you, then, been fettered in chains in my house, where you were received as a daughter? or are you longing for your patrimony? It is the merest pittance, and you are accustomed to the requirements of a lady."
"I lived with my father in the simplest way," said Erna, bitterly, "and we were happy. I have never been so in your house."
The president shrugged his shoulders: "Yes, you are emphatically your father's daughter. He too preferred to live in a peasant's hut rather than, with his ancient name, to have a career in the world. Well, Waltenberg offers you the freedom for which you pine. As his wife you can have wealth and position; he will fulfil your every wish, gratify your every whim, if you but understand how to manage him. For the last time I entreat you to take a rational view of the matter. If you refuse to do so, you and I have done with each other. I have no toleration for exaggerations, which appear to be hereditary in the Thurgau family."
Erna made no reply, and her uncle seemed to expect none, for he turned to go, pausing, however, on the threshold of the door to say, with frigid emphasis, "I confidently hope to find you betrothed when I return. Farewell!"
He left the room, and a few minutes afterwards his carriage rolled down the road.
Erna threw herself into an arm-chair, more agitated than she had cared to show to a man so cold,--a man who regarded her marriage as solely a business arrangement.
Betrothed! She had a dread of the word, so apt to beguile a maiden's ear; and yet she was beloved by this man: the only one who never questioned whether she were rich or poor, but asked only to carry her from this house, where money was all in all, far away into a world of freedom and beauty! Perhaps she might learn to love him, perhaps, in spite of all, he was worthy to be loved. Could she not overcome herself?
She covered her face with her hands. Suddenly she was aware of a gentle touch. Griff had approached unperceived, and was close beside her. He laid his huge head in her lap, and looked at her inquiringly out of his beautiful, large eyes as if he felt his young mistress's grief. She looked up; the dog was the only thing preserved to her from the time of her sunny, happy youth among the mountains with her father, whose idolized darling she had been. He had long been at peace in the grave, his dear old home had vanished from the face of the earth, and his only child lived among those who were strangers to her in spite of the ties of kinship.
Suddenly the girl sobbed aloud, and as she threw her arms about the dog's neck she whispered, "Oh, Griff, if we were only in Wolkenstein Court once more! if these strangers had only never come! They brought death to your master, and to me what was far worse!"