For a moment she might be vexed with him that he had enveloped himself in mystery towards her, and had not even told her his name; this fleeting sensation of anger soon passed tracelessly away.
The world lay so seemingly bright before her; she could have sung, shouted, danced, had it not been so very contrary to propriety; but she could not quite restrain her exuberant spirits.
Half-witted Käthe landed just at that moment with her father's boat; dripping with wet, she sprang upon the shore.
Eva liked the poor girl, in whom there was something heroic, resolute; it was painful to her that the brave child believed herself to have rescued something, while by her plunge into the sea and her skill in rowing, she had only brought a stranger's boat into the haven; and when the little one, with radiant eyes, stepped towards Eva, and with a triumphant smile, pointed to the skiff which she had rowed to the shore, the former embraced the girl--she was so full of her own happiness that others' misfortunes touched her doubly. Certainly, she had not considered the consequences, as the embrace had rendered her morning toilet so wet that she shivered with the cold damp, and her mother scoldingly bade her go home to change her clothes.
First, however, Herr von Blanden was invited to share the modest mid-day meal at the inn, as well as accompany them to the forest, on an afternoon excursion, which had been arranged with other visitors. His acceptance made her parents and Eva equally happy.
On their road home, the Regierungsrath calculated to his wife what the average revenue of the Rositten, Kulmitten and Nehren estates would be, trying to draw the correct medium of income between favourable and unfavourable years. He knew the nature of the soil, the number of acres; the result worked out in ponderous figures was received by the Frau Räthin with a well-pleased smile.
Eva had hastened on in front; yet her parents' conversation was confined to income, taxes, and other questions of national economy. No discussion was needed, for they understood one another.
Suddenly Frau Räthin stayed her winged steps; daring hopes and plans had lent a more lively movement to her usually majestic gait; but a rising thought suddenly paralysed it in a most disturbing manner.
"Gracious heavens!" cried she, as she supported herself with her parasol against an old oak trunk.
"What is the matter with you, Miranda?" asked her husband anxiously.