"And if it were so, would you consider it a break in our friendship?"
"Not in this case, where the object is unobtainable to both."
"Unobtainable!" That unpleasant smile again passed over his lips.
"Yes, Hartmut," said the Prince, seriously, "the beautiful, cold Aurora, as you have christened her, remains true to her nature. She stands far removed and unapproachable on the horizon, and the ice sea from which she rises is not to be penetrated. The lady has no heart; she is incapable of a passionate feeling, and this gives her this enviable security. Come, confess that here your power is wrecked. The icy breath has chilled you, and therefore you flee from it."
Hartmut was silent. He thought of those moments in the tower room, when he asked for the brilliant flower. It had been refused him, but it had not been an icy breath which came from the Baroness when she had trembled under the gaze of the beseecher.
He had since seen her almost daily, but had rarely approached her, although he knew that he held her under his spell now as before.
"Nevertheless, I cannot get free from this foolish infatuation," continued Egon, with a half dreamy expression. "It seems to me that life and warmth could grow up in that nature, and change the snow region into a blooming world. If Adelaide von Wallmoden were still free, I believe I should make the attempt."
Rojanow, who had been gazing into the misty forest, lost in thought, turned quickly and sharply:
"What attempt? Does that perhaps mean that you would offer her your hand?"
"You seem really horror-stricken at the idea." The Prince laughed aloud. "I meant that, indeed. I have no prejudice against the manufacturing world, like my most gracious aunt, whom such a possibility would indeed throw into convulsions. Strange to say, you seem to think so, too. Well, both of you may rest easy. His Excellency, the husband, has seized the prize; but he truly does not make a life of roses for her with his tiresome diplomatic face. Ah! but the man has had enviable good luck."