Then the old man pushed up the sleeves of his caftan, like one who prepares to execute a masterstroke. "To that must next be added," said he, "the three hundred thousand florins that Miss Edith Liedenwall brought to Captain Baradlay as her dowry." Therewith he wrote "300,000 fl." as the next entry.
The two young people looked at him to see what he meant by such a joke; but he merely rose from his chair, took each of them by the hand, and addressed them as follows:
"I wish you all happiness in your married life. You are worthy of each other. What I just said, and what I wrote, were both in earnest; and now I will explain."
The three resumed their seats, and the old man proceeded to explain to them the mystery of the three hundred thousand florins.
"You had, my dear madam, a great-uncle, Alfred Plankenhorst, who was a rich man and an old bachelor. He had great family pride, as I have reason to know, having been well acquainted with him and acted as his banker and business agent. I thus came to know a good deal about his family affairs. The old gentleman made a will by which he left all his property—his house in Vienna and his invested funds—to his niece, Baroness Plankenhorst, and her daughter. The old uncle was long-lived,—it is a way with some people, especially when they are rich,—and before he died the young lady had a love affair which resulted unfortunately for her good name. Well, there was no help for it; but the old gentleman had very strong prejudices in such matters, and he made a new will. Hunting up the orphan daughter of a distant relative,—Edith Liedenwall was the young lady's name,—he left her in the care of the Plankenhorst ladies for her education. The substance of the second will I can give you in a few words.
"Should Alfonsine Plankenhorst ever marry and make good her false step by a union with a man of birth equal to her own, she was to receive the bulk of the property as her dowry; but if she failed to retrieve herself before Edith Liedenwall grew up and married, the latter was to receive this dowry, provided her marriage was a suitable and honourable one, and provided she had committed no act such as had led the testator to destroy his first will. Failing this disposition of the property, as dowry either of Alfonsine Plankenhorst or of Edith Liedenwall, it was to go, after a certain number of years, to the St. Bridget Convent, though the house was in any case to remain in the possession of the Plankenhorst ladies. I was made executor of this will, the contents of which were to be kept secret. But the secretary who wrote it communicated its items to the baroness and her daughter, so that they have long known all about it. If you will now review the events of your courtship and engagement, in the light of what I have just told you, you will find everything explained that has been hitherto mysterious to you. Meanwhile, I was watching the course of events and knew all that was going on. Oh, we quiet old people have sharp eyes; we can see into houses, into pockets, and even into hearts.
"The Plankenhorst mansion will remain in the possession of its present occupants. It is a pretty bit of property by itself, but they'll go through it within ten years. Yet these are not times when one thinks about what is to be ten years hence. He who clothes the lilies of the field and the girls in the ballet will also provide for Alfonsine Plankenhorst.
"And now, Captain and Mrs. Baradlay, are you satisfied with what fortune has brought you?"
THE END.