'Der Teufel! attempt it? I shall do it!' replied the Count angrily, as he laid his hand emphatically on the arm of his chair.
So this was the first intimation Charlie had of the coming storm. A rival in the field, and his leave of absence on the verge of expiry! The situation—with all his trust in Ernestine—was, to say the least of it, alarming. Would she actually be torn from him after all? Fearing to speak, he remained perfectly silent; but, as his curiosity was irrepressible, he asked after a time—
'May I ask, Herr Graf, who this suitor is?'
'The Baron Grünthal, Oberdirector of the Consistory Court in Aix-la-Chapelle.'
Then Charlie remembered that the Baron had been at the Schloss that morning, and been long in the Graf's 'study' in consultation, and that he failed to see Ernestine as usual, save at dinner, after which she had hastily left the table. It occurred now to Charlie, too, that she had seemed both disturbed and taciturn during the progress of the meal.
Such an offer was deemed flattering, even for a daughter of the house of Frankenburg. Ernestine had dismissed the Baron; but, backed by her father's authority, he returned to the charge, and came the following day to dinner; and until the bell rang for that meal, Charlie, to his perplexity and annoyance, could see nothing of Ernestine, who remained sequestered in her room. Had her mother any suspicions? thought he; but as yet the Countess had none.
On this day, in honour of the suitor, whose aspirations met with her full approval, her white hair was done over a toupée that was higher than usual, her train was longer than ever, and she wore the best of the family diamonds.
This was the most miserable meal ever made by Charlie Pierrepont. The Count was rubicund, smiling, and conscious. He had smoked many pipes and imbibed much beer over the idea of having such a son-in-law. The Baron had made a careful study of his costume, and was most gracious to the ladies, but more especially to the Countess, who addressed nearly all her conversation to him—the winner of one of 'the Belles of Frankenburg.' Herminia looked waggish, Heinrich somewhat provoked, as he deemed the suitor too old, and that his sister's wishes should be consulted; while Ernestine—whose toilette (a golden-coloured silk, trimmed with black lace), a most becoming one for a brunette, had been made under the critical eye of her mother—looked pale, 'worried,' and worn, and, like Heinrich, provoked too, for, as we have said elsewhere, she was a self-willed little beauty, and somewhat opinionated.
In spite of the desire of all to appear at their perfect ease, the meal passed off awkwardly; the conversation flagged, and was unequal; and if the eyes of Ernestine met those of Charlie, he would read in them an imploring and sad expression, and when they looked down, they seemed to sparkle with anger.
At last the meal passed over—and it proved the last that Charlie Pierrepont was to consume in Frankenburg; the ladies rose from the table to retire.