Bertram lost no time in following the invitation. Hildegard, who had been sitting in a shaded corner of the verandah at the deserted breakfast-table, came forward to meet him. As she moved towards him with well-balanced step, he could not but recall last night's talk about the never-changing beauty of a poet's heroine. He gazed upon the lofty figure in its youthful slimness, the clear, deep colouring of the incomparably beautiful countenance, the blue-black splendour of the ample hair, smooth at the temples, and crowning the glorious head with a dense braid.
There was a smile on her dainty lips, and if deepened a little as she saw her guest's speaking eyes bent upon her in undisguised admiration. She was making tender inquiries about the state of his health, leading him the while to the table and making him sit beside her, with the kettle bubbling in front of them.
"Otto," she said, "is, as usual, somewhere about the estate. The Baron is painting a portion of the village from the bottom terrace, and Lydia is, I believe, keeping him company with a book. Erna, you will probably find later on in her favourite place, under the big plantain tree. I have sent them all away, because I so long to have a comfortable confidential chat with you. Yesterday we did not manage to have one. And first of all, dear friend, accept my hearty thanks for having so kindly pardoned a breach of confidence of which I--not from choice--had been guilty. Nay, do not refuse the expression of my gratitude. I saw how hard you found it to appear unconscious and serene; I thank you all the more. But I knew that with your wonted cleverness you would at once find the only correct point of view--that of pity. Whatever has been done and sinned between the two of you,--she is the one to be pitied. A poor girl, growing old, even if she is in favour at Court; and although the Grand Ducal family could not be kinder, yet all this cannot satisfy the cravings of her eager mind--but I perceive that this is a painful topic for you!"
"It is not painful for me," replied Bertram; "or at least only so far as the description of a dissatisfied, unquiet soul must ever be painful for us, if it is hopelessly out of our power to bring satisfaction and peace to it."
"I understand you," said Hildegard; "and you will understand me when I beg of you not quite to rob the poor soul in question of its utterly foolish hopes to which it clings, alas! with incredible tenacity. You can do this so easily: you need but be amiable and, courteous to her, as you are to everybody--no more, but, to be sure, no less--do you consent?"
"I will try, since you wish it--on one condition!"
"And this condition?"
"I have come to the following determination--indeed, it is a matter of course for me. In the drama of human life I will not henceforth ever again leave, my well-won place in the stalls, and under no circumstances will I take a part on the stage itself--no tragic part--and still less a comic one!"
"From the latter," replied his fair hostess with a smile, "you are safe under any circumstances, through your own cleverness; from the former----"
"Through my age."