"My mother received me on the evening of the next day with a kindness which, to say the least, I had not deserved. It was evidently her intention to show me that she intended a genuine reconciliation. She kissed my forehead, took me by the hand and led me to the ladies, who likewise overwhelmed me with civility. It looked as if the whole festivity was arranged only for my sake, as if I was the centre of the whole. Wherever I sat or stood I had a circle of gentlemen and ladies around me, like a queen.
"It was the first time since I had left Grenwitz that I could again move among my equals in fine, well-lighted rooms. I felt, more clearly than I had ever felt it before, that this was the only sphere in which I could move freely, that this was the only air I could breathe with comfort; in fine, that I was born to rule and not to serve. It seemed to me all of a sudden not so very difficult after all to keep the vow which I had burnt in that night into my heart with glowing tears. I only smiled at the fancies of a girl at boarding-school. And with a smile I received the homage which was profusely laid at my feet.
"Among those around me was also Prince Waldenberg. I did not need to inquire after his family and circumstances. Everybody was eager to furnish me with information. He is a native of Russia, and immensely rich. His mother's estates--she is Princess Letbus--lie in various parts of Russia; he is Prince Waldenberg through his mother, who comes of that family. Since he has succeeded to the estates, he has left the Russian service for our service. His father is a Count Malikowsky. Both parents are still alive, and he is their only child. You see, dear Mary, here appears in my letters for the first time a real grandee, who is the equal of your dukes and marquises; and while the prince's black eyes, however far he was from me, were all the time looking at me, I was thinking of you, whether I would see an encouraging smile in your eyes if you were here, and you would say, 'He is worthy of you!' I hoped you would, for the appearance and the manner of the prince is as lofty as his rank. I noticed with heartfelt shame how sorry our own young men looked by his side, and how they all tried in vain to copy his way of walking and his carriage. He spoke several times very eagerly with me. One of his sayings I remember, because it came from my own heart. I asked him why he, who has thousands and thousands of serfs, was serving in the army like our young noblemen, who had nothing in the world but their swords? 'Because I am too proud,' he replied, 'to wish to rule where I am not fully entitled to rule.' 'How so, highness?' I am not sovereign; my ancestors were sovereign; I have to pay for the weakness of my ancestors.' 'Would you not have given up the sovereignty?' 'Never,' he said, and this was the only time that I saw a kind of genuine emotion in his cold, proud face; 'never! a thousand times rather my life. But,' he added after a short pause, 'I know somebody who also would rather die than be humbled.' 'And who can that be?' 'You yourself, Miss Helen.'
"The party did not end till late at night. Papa sent me home in our carriage. Mamma promised to return my visit the next day; that was to-day. She really came this forenoon. She was again exceedingly kind, paid me many compliments about my conduct last night, and expressed her desire to have me back again at the house, just as my father also wishes it. However, she left it entirely to me, whether I would come back at all, and when. 'You did not exactly have your free will when you went away,' she said; 'I want, therefore, at least to be perfectly sure that your coming back is quite voluntary.'
"'And cousin Felix?' 'He leaves in a few days for Italy. I shall of course not expect you to stay with him under the same roof.'
"Certainly, even if my mother does not mean it honestly, she has at least found the right way to my heart. I am half decided to do what she and papa want me to do."
The young girl had, as it will happen, felt all the changes of her own heart which she described in her letter, once more in their full strength. The tormenting conflict between love and ambition, the desire to read clearly her own heart, had put the pen into her hand, and she had at last obtained in the process of writing that peace which had been so far from her when she began her letter.
She was leaning back in her chair with folded arms, and was looking fixedly before her as in a dream. She listened mechanically to the modulations of the night-wind in the poplar-trees before the window, through which she heard occasionally the low thunder of the ocean as it dashed against the shore. This music recalled to her the earliest recollections of her childhood, and with them very different sensations from those of which she had been writing. Suddenly she started and listened breathlessly towards the window. Through the mournful sounds of the wind she heard the singing of a soft, deep voice. At first she fancied it was a trick of her excited imagination, but as she listened more attentively, she distinguished the words. The voice sang:
"Thy face, alas! so fair and dear,
I saw it in my dreams quite near.
It was so angel-like, so sweet,
And yet with pain and grief replete,
The lips alone, they are still red,
But soon they will be pale and dead."
Then the wind became louder again and silenced the voice; then it began once more distinctly: