"Spare me these recollections, I implore you!" interrupted Waldemar, so abruptly and impetuously that Fabian started back in terror. Waldemar immediately mastered his emotion, and continued, in a calmer tone, "I am sorry that you, too, must suffer from my vexation; it was selfish in me to bring you to Villica. You should have returned to J----, to remain until I had restored order here and could offer you a quiet asylum."
"I would not have left you alone under any consideration," said Fabian, gently but decidedly.
Waldemar grasped his hand. "I knew you would not; but do not torture yourself any longer about my troubles; if you do, I shall repent having been so frank with you. Your own affairs should engross you now. Remember me to Professor Weber when you write to J----, and tell him that I am about to reduce your work to practice, and impress something of the 'History of Germany' upon my Slavonic estates. Villica needs it. Good-bye."
Doctor Fabian looked after him as he left the room, and sighed, "He is impenetrable and silent as a rock whenever I attempt to approach this one subject, but I know that to this day he has not mastered that sentiment, and he never will. I fear that the baleful influence which kept us so long from Villica is beginning to re-assert its power. Let Waldemar deny it as he will; I saw him yesterday when he returned from the chase; he is even now under the old spell."
CHAPTER XVI.
[CASSANDRIAN WARNINGS.]
Night had fallen, and profound silence reigned throughout Villica Castle; a silence in striking contrast to the tumult of the preceding day, when the house had been full of guests. A great supper had followed the return of the hunting-party, and as it was prolonged far into the night, most of the guests had remained until dawn. Count Morynski and Leo had left with them to pass a few days at a neighboring estate, and Wanda staid to keep her aunt company.
The two ladies sat alone in the drawing-room, which, with its brilliant lights and closely-drawn curtains, bore no trace of the rough November storm that was raging without. The princess sat upon a sofa; the young countess had risen, and was pacing up and down the room, evidently in great perturbation.
"Wanda, spare me these Cassandrian warnings, I implore you!" said the elder lady; "I tell you once more that your judgment is warped by your antipathy for Waldemar. Must he necessarily be an enemy to us all because you and he are at war?"
Wanda stopped short in her rapid walk, and gazed angrily at her aunt. "You may one day regret the scorn with which you treat my warnings," she said. "I still believe that you are deceived in your son; he is neither so blind nor so indifferent as you think."