He conducted her up a small, dark staircase, and opened the door of the so-called atelier. The whitewashed walls of the spacious garret were covered with sketches and studies from his academic years; close to the window stood the table where he painted his water-colors, and on a couple of easels were two oil paintings, one completed and one but just commenced, naturally views of Rothenburg. But she appeared to take little interest in these works to-day; for she spoke only occasionally of some study, and soon turned to the window, whence one could look far beyond the soft, green slopes, down the Tauber, where, in the slightly misty spring air, a little town lifted its ancient tower among the tall, blossomless trees.
"There is nothing remarkable about those colors and outlines," he said, "but as a frame for the whole picture they are not bad. How different it must be to stand on the Capitol and see the beautiful, classic lines of the Alban mountain beyond the Forum and the imperial palaces! To be sure, I know it only from pictures!" he concluded with a sigh.
"You will certainly see the reality sometime; that and still more beautiful things. Meanwhile, this too is not to be despised, each in its place."
Then she spoke of other things. But he was contented because she had thus referred to his southern trip, for the first time during the whole day. He was reflecting how to continue this theme which she had started, when she turned from the window and asked him to take her downstairs again. Before departing, she had a few letters to write, since she would find more time for them here than in Würzburg. When did the evening train leave?
"At eight o'clock," he replied.
"Good. We shall see each other once more at the station? Now I must go home."
When they came down into the house, Christel was no longer there; the mistress was in the garden, said the maid, turning red and refusing what the stranger tried to force into her hand. Christel met them in the garden, her hands full of hyacinths and spring flowers, which she had just cut and made into a simple nosegay.
"You must be contented with these," she said, "for as yet I cannot offer you any of my roses, of which I am very proud. But I myself have raised these yellow hyacinths with the greenish calyxes, and more beautiful ones are not easily found. I have a skilful hand with children and flowers--that is my only talent."
The stranger accepted the nosegay and embraced the giver, kissing her cheek. She then walked about the garden, which was surrounded with high walls, and, at this time of the year, had but little sunlight. A thick ivy covered the black walls, clothing them with a dusky green tapestry, against which the young shoots of the fruit-trees, and the beds of primroses, crocuses, and hyacinths stood out in pleasing contrast. The children were playing in one corner, and labored on in their own irregular little garden without noticing the visitor.
"I must now say farewell," said the stranger. "Unfortunately, I cannot invite you to return my visit in my so-called home. In our castle it is not so green and cheerful as here; and I have never found out whether I have a skilful hand with children and flowers. But I thank you for these beautiful hours. I shall never forget them; they have both pleased and pained me as nothing has done for a long tune. Adieu!"