"A good-looking girl, I mean," said Carl, evasively, by way of correction, and laughed constrainedly.
Elizabeth had heard what he said. She was hurt, and for the first time instituted a comparison between him and Salvé. If Salvé had been in his place, he would not have got out of it in that way.
Later on in the evening Carl met her alone, as she was putting things to rights out on the steps after the departed guests, and he said half-anxiously—
"I hope you didn't mind what that blustering old brute said, Elizabeth. He is a very good fellow really, and doesn't mean anything by his nonsense."
Elizabeth was silent, and tried to avoid answering by going in with what she had in her hands.
"Come, I won't stand your being offended, Elizabeth," he broke out suddenly, firing up in a moment, and trying to catch her by the arm. "That hand you work with is dearer to me than the hands of all the fine ladies put together."
"Herr Beck!" she exclaimed wildly, and with tears in her eyes, "I leave this house—this very night—if you say a word more."
She disappeared into the hall, but he followed her.
"Elizabeth," he whispered, "I mean it in earnest." She tore herself hastily from him, and went into the kitchen, where his sisters were talking together over the fire.
Carl went out for a solitary walk over the island in the glorious starlight night, and didn't come in till past midnight.