Frau von Eschenhagen saw that he was right and was willing to send Willy--for she, of course, decided the matter. He had made no new attempt to rebel against the maternal ruling, and seemed, anyway, to have come to his senses completely again. He was, perhaps, more quiet than before, and threw himself with quite unusual zeal into his agricultural work after his return, but otherwise bore himself especially well.
He remained obstinate only upon one point: he would not speak with his mother about that "silliness" which had caused the sudden departure, and avoided every explanation concerning it. Apparently he was ashamed of that quickly-flaming affection, which probably had never been serious, and did not wish to be reminded of it.
He wrote frequently to his fiancée, and received just as punctual replies. The correspondence, however, was more of a practical than a tender nature, and mostly concerned plans for their future lives and farm arrangements; but one saw from this that the young lord considered his marriage, for which the day had been set, as quite decided, and Frau Regine, who deemed it her indisputable right to read all of the letters of the engaged couple, declared herself satisfied with them.
So Willibald received a gracious permission to visit his betrothed, which was now so much less hazardous since the dangerous little person--Marietta Volkmar--was at present at the Residenz, where her position kept her. But to be quite sure, Frau von Eschenhagen put her son under the protection of her brother, who, with his wife, had paid a brief visit to Burgsdorf upon his return from the Stahlberg works.
If Willibald, during the two or three days of his visit at the Residenz, remained at Wallmoden's house and went with them exclusively, no danger was to be feared.
The Ambassador saw soon after his arrival that he would be forced to enlighten his nephew regarding Hartmut Rojanow, for the name was mentioned on all sides already the first day. Willy, who at that former time had been the confidant of the secret rendezvous of Hartmut and his mother, and knew her name, started upon hearing it, coupled with a remark that a young Roumanian was the gifted poet, which made him still more suspicious.
He glanced in perplexity at his uncle, who managed to signal to him just in time not to question any further, and who then embraced the first opportunity to tell him the truth.
He did this, of course, in the most inconsiderate manner, and presented Hartmut as an adventurer of the worst kind, whom he would in a very short time force to give up the rôle which he was playing here, without being in the least entitled to it.
Poor Willibald's head swam at the news. His bosom friend--to whom he had always been attached with the fondest affection, and to whom he still clung in spite of the harsh sentence which was being pronounced upon him--was here in his immediate vicinity, and he was not to go to see him--was not even to recognize him if chance should bring about a meeting. Wallmoden especially impressed the latter upon his nephew, who, quite stunned, promised obedience and silence, as well toward Adelaide as to his fiancée and the Chief Forester; but he could not understand the thing by a long shot yet. He needed time for that as for everything.