How greatly he was mistaken in this, came most painfully home to him with the first stolen glimpse which he ventured to take of Lydia's face in the pitiless radiance of the bright candles which shone upon the round table in the dining-room, where he sat opposite her. Was that really ... Lydia? Or had some mischievous imp, by cruel witchcraft, put a caricature of herself in her place, and changed the picture of the bright and gifted girl, overflowing with jest and fun, with humour and wit; the girl with the somewhat irregular but most piquant features, with the big, light-blue, mischievous eyes, fresh and rosy of colour, with wild, fluttering, blonde locks, into the picture of an aging coquette, for ever pouting her thin lips, even when she laughed, so as to hide her false teeth; now lowering, now lifting her eyelids, like an actress, in vain endeavouring to give some light to her eyes--a light as treacherous as the all too bright pinkiness of the lean cheek, the all too dark carmine of the ears, adorned though they were with sparkling diamonds? An ugly old woman, who now let the gold embroidered white silk shawl glide from the scraggy shoulders, only to draw it up again immediately and attempt a more picturesque drapery--which was not a success, so that the game had to be renewed forthwith!
And he had once loved this painted, dressed-up, revoltingly coquettish person; had loved her with the best, purest strength of his heart, as, but a little while ago, he had assured Erna with passionate eagerness. It was horrible! Would Erna believe that yonder withered shrub had ever blossomed in vernal brightness and beauty? How could she believe it, when she looked at the friend of Lydia's youth, her own mother, whose majestic beauty was barely touched by Time in his flight? Her great brown eyes had lost none of their velvety softness, her raven hair still shone in undimmed splendour. And if the difference in appearance, in manner, was now so great between the two ladies, must it not always have existed? And must not the taste of a man, whose feelings could at any time have led him so far astray, have been at all times most lamentable?
And if the pitiless brightness had brought so terrible a discovery to him, how would he himself appear before Erna's searching gaze? Had not some horrible change taken place with him too? Why, these twenty years had altered Erna's father, who at college had been rightly surnamed 'The Beauty,' into an excessively stout gentleman, with a somewhat bloated countenance, and a mighty skull, which was getting painfully bald in the region of the temples! And he himself had never been distinguished for personal attraction; true, his hair was as dark as ever; and, before supper, in the glass, he had thought that he saw a pale and grave, but not a worn, face. But then the complaisant mirror of vanity might make one fancy one saw all sorts of things. No doubt Lydia had just such a mirror in her room!
Bertram felt more and more sad at heart. He no longer dared lift his eyes, but kept them fixed upon the plates, which the servants changed without his having tasted any of the dishes to which he helped himself mechanically. So he sat on, scarcely hearing a word of the conversation, which was principally carried on by Lydia and the Baron. Apparently they were talking about some Court affairs, and very amusing and piquant they would appear to be. Anyhow, there was much laughter, chiefly on the part of Lydia and the Baron, and My Lady held up her hand once or twice, and reminded the two of the respect due to the Grand Ducal family. Then the conversation touched upon the approaching manœ vres, and the Baron proclaimed his minute knowledge of every detail, and endeavoured to explain to the ladies, with the help of spoons and forks and what not, the original positions both of the attacking party and the attacked, and duly weighed the various events which might or must occur, according whether the commanding officers did or did not take certain steps. Under any circumstances, the decisive portion of the sham-fight must come off in the immediate neighbourhood of Rinstedt itself, if not in Rinstedt itself; unfortunately, the ground being singularly unsuitable for cavalry, the ultimate issue would lie between artillery and infantry. He himself, said the Baron, having formerly been a cavalry officer, was very sorry for that; but, anyhow, the ladies, could look forward to a glorious sight. What, a pity, he added, that in spite of his having so many friends in the army, he did not chance to have any personal acquaintances among the officers of this particular regiment.
"Well, I know a number of them," said the host. "The 99th were stationed at Erfurt until a twelvemonth ago. I used to meet the officers over and over again out shooting."
"Then," said the Baron, turning to Lydia, "you must know some of them too. They are sure to have attended some of our Court balls."
"Of course," the lady replied; "and they were also in the habit of coming over in shoals to the play; but who is to distinguish one red collar from another? Not I! I love plain, quiet, civilian colours. Ask Erna; she is sure to know. She spent six weeks last summer with her Aunt Adelheid in Erfurt, and there the officers, are constantly coming and going. Is it not so, Erna?"
"You are forgetting," said Erna, "that aunt was in mourning at the time. Of course there were no parties then."
"But still," the Baron observed, "people go to a house without being actually bidden to parties, inspire of the family being in mourning, if there are six marriageable daughters in it, as is the case in your aunt's house."
"Possibly; then my power of discriminating between different red collars is not more strongly developed than Aunt Lydia's; anyhow, I do not remember any one of the gentlemen."