Leo was eager to know how she had taken the news, but was ashamed to try and glean the information from his friend by crooked questionings; however, as it proved, there was no need, for Ulrich on his own accord told him all he wanted to know.
"I did not think," he said, "that Felicitas, who lives and forgets so rapidly, would have been so deeply moved at your return. I must say that without taking credit to myself. God knows there is no reason why I should. I believed that she had completely got over her grief for the loss of Rhaden. She scarcely ever mentions his name, and even forgets the anniversary of his death. And for two years, I have, as tactfully as I could, endeavoured to impress on her your innocence in that unfortunate accident, ... for as an accident pure and simple I have always regarded the fatal duel. It seems that it has all been in vain. The first thing that happened yesterday was that she went into hysterics. I was afraid she was going to be seriously ill. The whole night she sat on the boy's bed, murmuring over him. I got her away early this morning almost by force, for the poor boy, too, was deprived of his night's rest. You will believe me, dear Leo, when I say that all this makes me bound to admit that she has right on her side."
Leo was silent. If he had spoken it would have been hypocrisy, and he could not bring himself to that.
"When she had become calmer," Ulrich went on, "I told her of our conversation, and of the fears you had entertained about the continuance of our intercourse. I wanted to prove to her by that, how much you had considered the condition of her feelings. But the effect was quite contrary from what I had expected. Especially what you said about the child seemed to excite her to the last degree. Forgive me, dear old boy, if it was a blunder to repeat it. I hoped it would help both you and me. Why should I repeat to you all her expressions of resentment against you? It is unnecessary to tear open old wounds. You may believe me that I know how to distinguish between the hysterical exaggerations to which she gave vent in her grief, and the grief itself. But that is genuine enough, and when she says, 'How can I touch your hand, when I know that to-day it has lain in the hand which struck down my child's father?'--when she says that she is right, a thousand times right. I ought to have foreseen it all, before I linked her fate with mine. Now it is done, and, in your words, it has come to the decision. 'You must choose between me and her.'"
Still Leo was silent. The fatal image of the woman glided before his eyes. It seemed to melt into the gold of the evening clouds, and with the damp mist to fill the darkening world.
How came it that she had been able to rob him of what was dearest to him on earth? And, what was worse than anything else, she was justified. It was only strange that she, who, as a rule, was given to half-measures, and avoided anything like resolute action, had proved herself, in this, almost firmer than he was. But then, of course, she had no friend to lose....
"I thank you, old boy," Ulrich went on, "for not reproaching or laughing at me. Not that any contradiction on your part would have been of the least use. The facts are inexorable, and what we are doing is the only natural course to take."
"Yes," Leo assented, staring out of the window.
If Ulrich had only guessed what truth he was speaking!
"And now there is nothing more to say, except, as it were, to make my last bequests. When you want me, I shall come to you--at any hour of the day or night, in good or evil fortune. I shall expect the same from you, even though in ordinary circumstances we shall have no alternative but to pass each other by with a silent pressure of the hand."