Voice failed him; there was a ringing and buzzing in his ears; every thing swam before his eyes, and he sank fainting. The prince awoke after long unconsciousness, and found himself upon his bed in the new palace at Potsdam, Bischofswerder at his side, watching him with the tenderest sympathy. He bent over him and pressed his hand to his lips with a cry of delight. “Heaven be praised; my dear prince, you have awaked to commence a new life! You now belong to the virtuous and honorable, whom the Invisible Fathers bless!”
“Is it true, Bischofswerder,” said the prince, languidly, “that I have sworn to renounce Wilhelmine Enke, and never to love her more?”
“You have sworn it by all that is holy, and all in heaven and on earth have heard your oath, and there is joy thereat.”
The prince turned his head, that Bischofswerder might not see the tears streaming down his cheeks.
CHAPTER XXXIII. THE RETURN HOME.
The beautiful house which Herr Ebenstreit von Leuthen possessed upon the finest street in Berlin, “Unter den Linden,” had been newly arranged and splendidly ornamented since his marriage and elevation to a title, and now awaited his arrival. For many weeks mechanics and artists had been busily employed; and the good housekeeper, old Trude, saw with bewildering astonishment the daily increasing splendor of gilded furniture, costly mirrors and chandeliers, soft carpets, tapestries, and gold-embroidered curtains, exquisite paintings and statuary, which the possessor had forwarded from Italy, and many other objects of art standing upon gilt and marble tables.
Every thing was completed. The bustle of the busy workmen had ceased, and Trude slowly wandered through the solitary rooms, examining every article. Her face bespoke dissatisfaction, and a smile of contempt was visible there.
“Miserable trash, for which they have sold my poor child!” murmured the old woman. “For these worthless, glittering toys have they ruined the happiness of the dear innocent heart, and on them the guilt will fall if her soul is lost! I remark how she is changed in her letters since her shameful, mercenary marriage. She writes of nothing but the arrangement of her house, and speaks as if the beauty and costliness of things were only to be thought of, and there is not even a confidential, heart-felt word for her old Trude. It would seem as if she had forgotten all former objects of interest. Oh, what trouble and sorrows the rich have! That good-for-nothing money hardens their hearts and makes them evil and selfish.”
The loud ringing of a bell sounded through the solitary drawing-rooms.