"Will you not cease these obscure prophecies, and tell me plainly what you fear? You know that I do not trust to appearances or opinions; I require proofs. Whence arises this suspicion of yours to which you cling with such tenacity? What did Waldemar say to you when you met him yesterday at the rendezvous?"
Wanda was silent. She had mentioned only their meeting at the ranger's place, not wishing to inform her aunt of that solitary interview by the forest-lake. Not for the world would she have repeated the details of that meeting, and yet Waldemar had said nothing to give her the slightest ground for the assertions she had just made. She had no proof save that strange instinct which from the first had guided her in her estimate of a character which had escaped her aunt's keen penetration. She could not offer these mere impressions as evidence, her aunt would deride them.
"Waldemar had but little to say to me," she answered at length; "but that little convinced me that he knows more than he ought."
"Very likely," replied the princess, with perfect composure. "I doubt if Waldemar has made any investigations himself. He knows what the superintendent knows, and, what is no longer a secret in L----, that we take sides with our own people. Deeper insight into our affairs is as impossible to him as to others; we have taken all necessary precautions. His whole conduct shows his indifference to matters which do not concern him personally in the least, and he has too nice a sense of honor to compromise his nearest relatives. He has proved this in the case of Superintendent Frank; although he would prefer to have the man remain, he sides with me."
"You will not listen!" said Wanda, resignedly. "Let the future decide which of us is right. Now grant me one favor, dear aunt; allow me to return home to-morrow morning."
"So soon? It was arranged that your father should come for you."
"I remained only to have an undisturbed conversation with you upon this subject. It has been in vain,--so let me go."
"You know, my child, that I like your company," said the princess, "but I cheerfully consent to your immediate departure. You and Waldemar did not exchange two syllables at dinner; if you cannot be a little more courteous at these unavoidable interviews, you had better go."
"Then I will inform papa that he need not come here for me: will you allow me a few moments at your writing-desk?" Wanda went into her aunt's study, which was separated from the drawing-room by a half-drawn portière, and seated herself at the writing-desk. She had scarcely written a line when the drawing-room door opened hastily, and she heard a well-known step, so firm and heavy that it was not drowned like other footfalls in the soft, thick carpet. Then Waldemar's voice resounded close beside her, on the other side of the portière. She laid down her pen, and as she could not make her escape without passing through the drawing-room, she remained motionless in her place. Not a word spoken in the next room escaped her.
After a hurried good evening, Waldemar sat down at his mother's side, and began to converse upon indifferent matters. He had taken an album of water-color paintings from the table, and was turning over the leaves, while the princess reclined against the sofa-cushions, and mentally asked herself what could be the cause of this unusual and unexpected visit.