He called on Pastor Brenckenberg with the object of asking his pardon for his roughness to him at their last interview, and then the old man, who had gradually got over his rancour, told him that his son, "the rascal," had met the Baroness von Kletzingk in Berlin. She had looked the same as usual, had not been in the least embarrassed, and had overwhelmed him with questions.
"And there's something else to tell you," continued the pastor. "You really did my boy a good turn, after all. It is true that he has been expelled from his Corps, but that won't do him much harm. He has been a different creature since that correction you administered to him. He has given up loafing and getting into debt, and he is now earning his bread and working steadily for his exam. So pardon me, Fritzchen, and let me thank you. I behaved like an old ass!"
Leo shook his hand laughingly. Then he pondered on what he had heard about Felicitas, and hoped that she was not playing the adventuress in Berlin.
A report of Ulrich came every week. At first the young doctor wrote, and then he wrote himself, a few, faint, hurried lines, and on these his friend was obliged to build his hopes.
Slowly Leo's soul was purged of its gnawing suspicions and its anxious presentiments of evil which had been so habitual to it of late. He regained his self-confidence, and at the same time spurts of the quaint cynicism and noisy gaiety which so well become those doughty giants on the east of the Elbe. This showed that his wounds were healing, and his temperament recovering its normal healthiness.
It was on a grey, still morning in the second week of May that Leo came in ravenous from his early ride to join the others at breakfast. The glass doors stood wide open, letting in draughts of the soft rainy air. He fancied that he detected in the three pairs of eyes raised to his an unwonted flash of excitement.
"Why are you all making such mysterious faces?" he asked.
His mother looked away and smiled. Elly glanced down at her lap and smiled too. Hertha kept her eyes fixed on has face with complete frankness.
Then he caught sight of an envelope lying beside his coffee-cup. It was addressed in Ulrich's handwriting, but bore no postmark. His heart leapt as he read--
"Dear Old Boy,