"And why not?"
Eva was silent.
"Our adventure in the wood was too unimportant, or you forgot it quickly?"
"Oh, no," said Eva; "but visits without visiting cards are not announced."
"Good; then we have one little secret between us, and our sea excursion is another. I shall explain that I believed you to be in danger, as a half-witted girl rowed your boat, and that I therefore changed places."
During this conversation they had neared the shore. The Regierungsrath was running angrily up and down, his hands in his coat-pockets; the large, white cravat in which he had buried his chin seemed to be loosely twined round it to-day, and moved to and fro.
His massive wife was more self-possessed, but an ominous lecture lay in her eyes, and about the corners of her mouth.
"Oh, Eva," she cried to her daughter, as soon as her voice could be at all audible without the aid of a speaking trumpet.
Blanden pulled to the shore, sprang out, bound the boat firmly to a post, offered his hand to assist Eva to descend, and then busied himself with the boat and oars, while Eva had to let the first hurricane of reproaches and reproof sweep over her.
"And, who, then, is this strange gentleman?" asked old Kalzow, with the air of an inquisitor.