With beaming eyes and radiant smile she watched the progress of his recovery, and with the quick perceptions of a mother's love she noted every shade of colour and of expression on the face of her son betokening the return of life and youthful strength.
She grew lively and cheerful, and showed much interest in the arrangements of the Lohmeier household; she had often expressed her surprise and great satisfaction at the orderly way in which everything was arranged; at the beautiful house linen, the excellent cooking, and the order in the house work, and she was amazed that so young a girl as Margaret should be so good a manager. She had kindly bestowed the rich treasures of her experience upon her young hostess, for whom she felt great affection, and old Lohmeier regarded this distinguished lady, who yet was so well acquainted with all household details, with the greatest veneration, especially when he saw the interest his daughter, the pride of his heart, had excited in her mind.
The lieutenant remarked that Helena no longer appeared at his bed-side; his eyes often rested upon her enquiringly when he was able to rise and go into his mother's room, but he said very little, he was not quite sure whether the sweet and charming picture which filled his mind was the result of a feverish imagination or the truth.
Helena was quiet and dreamy; she seldom looked at Wendenstein, the feelings she had so plainly shown in the days of anguish and danger were now most carefully concealed.
Madame von Wendenstein often turned her mild eyes sympathizingly upon the young girl; but she did not say a word, for she held that every true woman's heart is a tender flower, which must bud and blossom in its own way, shrinking back and closing at a rough touch. In her quiet pious way she had committed both these young hearts into God's hand, and she trusted that in His good time they would come to a happy understanding.
The candidate came very little. He was unwearied in consoling and exhorting the sick, and the whole town spoke of him with esteem and admiration. He said a few kind and hearty words to Lieutenant von Wendenstein when he first saw him, after his recovery appeared certain, reminding him of the gratitude he ought to feel for the life restored to him when on the threshold of death; but Wendenstein felt a strange shudder pass through him as he spoke, and he sat still afterwards for some time in deep thought, pursuing the frightful and alarming recollections which arose in his mind, but which he could not completely recall. Whenever he saw the candidate the same feeling of cold and deadly fear returned, and again his memory refused to recall the reason. He blamed himself greatly for his aversion to so excellent a man, and the more his recovery progressed and his nerves strengthened, the more he struggled to feel kindness and friendship for the young clergyman.
After some time of this quiet life, the day came when the ladies and the lieutenant, who could now walk slowly, determined to return home. Notwithstanding her joy at her son's recovery Madame von Wendenstein had a new and deep cause for grief. The incorporation of Hanover with Prussia was quite decided upon, and the president had told his wife in a short and mournful letter that he should resign, as he could not at his age change his masters. He should go to Hanover for a time, and then he would buy an estate for his son the lieutenant, as he no longer wished him to remain in the army under present circumstances. The whole family could reside with him.
This letter Madame von Wendenstein received the evening before her journey. As she read it large tears ran slowly down her cheeks. She was then to return, only to leave the old house that for so many years had sheltered her, the home filled with so many remembrances of her quiet happy life. But she was accustomed always to conform to her husband's will without questioning it, and when she thought of leaving the old house at Blechow, which after all belonged to the office the president was about to resign, and of going to an estate which would really be her son's, and of the pleasure of arranging and founding a house for him, she dried her tears. She thought of the children and grandchildren who would always live there, and a smile played round her lips as she again read the president's letter.
The lieutenant's eyes sparkled with joy.
"Oh! how I thank my father!" he cried; "how grateful I am to him for allowing me to leave the service. It would have been too painful to forget the old flag for which I shed my blood."