"Now you run away from me just like Felix," cries she, pouting. "Please stay; it is so unpleasant for me to receive young people without a protector."
And he stays.
"You have come late; we have scarcely three-quarters of an hour of daylight left."
With these words, spoken in a very indifferent tone, Linda receives the young men. "Shall we set about it at once?" she continues.
The lawn-tennis court is in a broad flat meadow in the park. The ground is not yet dry from yesterday's rain, still the players are unwearied, Erwin, after a short time, as animated as the others. He competes vigorously with Pistasch, whose skill he soon surpasses, and enjoys the society of the two agreeable and to-day good-tempered young men, who are both old acquaintances of his.
Pistasch in old times he has pulled by the ear, paid his youthful debts, and on holidays taken him away from the Theresanium; with Scirocco, who is but little younger than Erwin himself, he has taken an Oriental trip, they were both overturned in the same drag, both raved over the same dancer, etc.
Merry reminiscences pass between the players almost as quickly as the tennis balls, and Linda encourages all these reminiscences most charmingly; her smile lends a new spice to the play and the conversation.
Erwin is of a much too lovable nature, is far too much occupied with the happiness of others and too little with his own, to think of what might have been if he had not, for love of Elsa, renounced the world.
He possesses a decided disinclination for the "if," always looks straight before him, never behind him. It does not even occur to him to-day, when he is vexed with Elsa, to complain of the serious monotony of his life, to philosophize, but he feels well, likes to amuse himself again, laughs frequently, and is not unsusceptible to the evident wish to please him which Linda shows. No objection can be found to her behavior to-day--it is animated without being loud, cordial without being coquettish.
The three-quarters of an hour are over, the daylight has become first pale, then gray, the balls have flown aimlessly, like plump night birds through the air; they have laughed, ridiculed the opposite side for their faults, finally lost several balls, and come to the conclusion that for the present nothing more can be done.