Egon had not seen the young widow since the death of her husband. The formal visit of condolence, which he had made after the accident, had been received by Eugene Stahlberg in the name of his sister, and then they had left the city immediately.
Adelaide wore, of course, the widow's mourning; but her companion thought he had never seen her so beautiful as to-day in the deep, sombre black and crepe veil, beneath which the blonde hair glimmered. His glance passed repeatedly over this beautiful blonde head, and always the question recurred: What has really happened to these features that they look so entirely different?
Egon had only known the lady at whose side he now walked in that cool, haughty composure which had made her so unapproachable to him and the world. Now this coldness had disappeared, and he saw and felt but could not decipher the strange change which had taken its place.
The young widow could not possibly mourn so deeply and seriously for a husband who was so far removed from her in age, and who, even had he been young, could never have given her the love youth demands, with his practical, coldly calculating nature. And yet there lay over her whole appearance the expression of secret suffering--of a sorrow which was mutely but painfully borne.
Where did this mysterious line come from, this soft light of the eyes which seemed to have learned but now to know tears?
"It always seems to me as if life and fire could glow there and transform the snow region into a blooming world," Prince Adelsberg had once exclaimed in jest. Now this transformation had taken place, slowly, almost imperceptibly. But this soft, half-painful expression which replaced the former seriousness, this dreamy look, gave a charm to the young woman which, with all her beauty, had been missing before--a charming, gentle grace.
At first the conversation touched upon indifferent things only, the questions and answers that were customary and formal. Egon narrated incidents of happenings during the winter at Court and in town, and then offered the same explanation of his sudden arrival which he had given the Chief Forester, speaking of the unendurable heat at Ostend and of his longing for the cool, still forest solitude.
A fleeting smile which quivered over the lips of his companion told him that she believed this pretext as little as had the Chief Forester, and that the notice in the papers had also been seen by her. He grew unaccountably vexed about it and studied how he could remedy the mistake, here where he could not be so plain-spoken, when Adelaide suddenly asked: "Shall you remain alone at Rodeck, Your Highness? Last summer you had a--guest with you."
A shadow passed over the face of the young Prince. He forgot the rumor of his engagement and his anger about it at this remark.
"You mean Hartmut Rojanow?" he asked, gravely. "He will hardly come, as he is in Sicily at present, or at least was there two months ago. I have had no news from him since, and do not even know where to write him."