“And then she will at last think, Trude, how we took care of her, and how thankful she ought to be to her parents that they married her to a rich man. If Marie sees it at last—”
“You forget with whom you speak, Frau von Werrig,” Trude interrupted her, scornfully, “and that it does not become you to speak of Marie to old Trude, but you should remember her title.”
“Well, then, when Baroness von Ebenstreit enters this costly house, she must understand that her mother was mindful of her best interests, and that she owes all this to her; and you, Trude, must remind her of it, and tell her about my dreadful trial with her father, and that it is my daughter’s duty to release me from it, and beg her husband not to deduct the gambling-debt from the pension, but pay it this once. For it would be a dreadful injustice to make me suffer for the general’s rage for play, and show but little gratitude for the riches which I brought her. You will tell my daughter all this, Trude, and—”
“I will not tell her any thing at all, Frau von Werrig,” interrupted. Trude, warmly. “May my good genius keep me from that, and burdening my conscience with such falsehoods.—Hark! A carriage is coming, and a post-horn sounded. They have arrived!”
Old Trude hurried out just as they drove up to the door. The steward and two servants in livery rushed down the steps to assist them to alight, and Trude also to greet her favorite, who was now so pale, grave, and chilling in her appearance.
The large eyes of the lady rested with cold indifference upon the old woman, whose eyes were turned to her with the tenderest expression. “I thank you,” she said, coldly. “Husband! I beg you to give me your arm.” Proudly she passed the statuary, and over the soft carpets without comment, or even a word for old Trude.
The steward and housekeeper followed the silent couple.
“Shall I take you to your room first?” asked Ebenstreit, “or will you do me the pleasure to look at the newly-arranged drawing-rooms?”
“Certainly,” she replied, with indifference. “We will first look at the drawing-rooms, as we shall probably receive much company this winter, and they are of the first importance. You know that I dislike solitude.”
“Indeed, I recall that we are very seldom alone!” sighed her husband.