"One could really imagine, my dear Melitta, that Felix was nearer to you than he really is. Candidly, I should like to know what you think of this match, if Grenwitz should not abandon the project."
"Well, then--I should consider it a misfortune, a very great misfortune, and in proportion as Helen is beautiful and innocent; what in all the world can suggest to the baron such a match? For I shall never believe that a mother could consent to such a union, which cannot fail to make her daughter inexpressibly unhappy."
Melitta had risen and cut the air with her riding-whip, as if she wished to say: That is what he deserves, who offers to aid in such a piece of rascality. Her tall, slender form looked a different being from her who had been timidly bending over her work or negligently reclining in her easy-chair. Even the features of her face seemed to change, and to become sharper, older; the fire in her large eyes blazed forth ominously. The mention of this match had evidently struck a chord in her soul which vibrated painfully through her whole system. She continued in the same excited tone:
"Felix is notoriously a fast young man. How can such a man feel love? And even if Helen's beauty, her youth, and her innocence should for a time get the better of his exhaustion, that would not last long. A man like him, thoroughly blasé, never becomes again a real man, and can Helen ever love such a person? And is life worth anything without love? And can you prevent all the misery that must needs spring from such a match? I know----"
The young wife suddenly stopped and walked rapidly up and down the room. Then, after a short pause, she said:
"And what external advantages can such a match have? Felix has satisfied his excessive vanity at the expense of his fortune as well as of his health. His estates are mortgaged beyond their real value; and he has, as far as I know, no expectations."
"Except that in case Malte should die, which God prevent! he would inherit the Grenwitz fortune," said the baroness.
"Ah! indeed," replied Melitta, with a strange emphasis. This last remark of the baroness had presented the whole matter in a new light to the generous woman; it was a ray like the light from the dark lantern of the thief, which falls upon the strong-box he is about to steal. But she took good care not to let the baroness see what was going on in her heart, and continued in an unconcerned tone, throwing herself once more into the easy-chair:
"I hope Malte will not be so kind to the creditors of Felix as to die before his time. I see he is getting stronger visibly, and if you would only give the boy a little more liberty----"
"Liberty!" exclaimed the baroness. "Must I hear that word again? I give him as much liberty as a sensible mother ought to give her child. My opinion is that a man who, like Malte, will have a large fortune at his command, cannot learn too soon to obey, to economize, and to deny himself all that is superfluous and unnecessary. We have in our nephew Felix an example of the sad effects of too great indulgence."