The Benases and their guests, Dr. Weilen and Dr. Rosenfeld, were spending the evening together most agreeably. The dinner had passed off pleasantly. Mr. Benas was in a happy frame of mind, and his good spirits dispelled the reserve and formality that at first prevailed. Dr. Weilen, with his usual tact and good nature, promptly fell in with and abetted the high spirits of his host. Mrs. Benas, too, after momentary embarrassment, contributed in her refined and clever manner and with her considerate hospitality, to the pleasure of the small circle. Hugo was not so brusque as usual, owing to the benignant influence of his friend Henry. Rita seemed transformed by her secret happiness. Modest and reserved as she always was, her silence was not noticed. At times she glanced at Victor's face; and when their eyes happened to meet in love and perfect understanding, the blood rose precipitately to her cheeks. They had had a talk before dinner was served, and Rita had given him the news that he was to be welcomed at Uncle Leopold's celebration. He had gathered her in his arms, and pressed a kiss upon her forehead. "My wife, my dear wife," he said with emotion. She drew closer to him, but made no answer. Such was their betrothal—not the passionate, stormy love with which he had courted her on New Year's Day, but as though devoutly consecrating her. And she was happy.
Then she told him of her conversation with her mother, and spoke of his letter, which had given her a deep insight into his life, and had brought consolation to her as well as to her mother, especially upon one point. She hesitated as she said this, and he sealed her lips with a kiss: "No, truly, I am no apostate! and my love and faith toward you will last forever, no matter what may come. And you, Rita?"
"Nothing shall separate me from you," she answered simply but resolutely, as if registering a vow.
Then they talked of her mother's request, and he readily consented to respect it. "If I am certain of your love, then I can reconcile myself to keeping this happiness to myself, until I can joyously proclaim it to the whole world. I must consent to the conditions your mother imposes, however trying they may be. At all events I shall see you; and we share a secret that makes us happy, and brings us yet closer together, if possible. When I look at you, my eyes will tell you that I love you, and I shall know that you are mine. And our eyes will meet in kisses, and every pressure of the hand will tell you of my hopes and longings. And this secret language which only we two understand will be more eloquent than spoken words."
Tears stood in her eyes. When he saw her before him, in her sweet purity and virgin modesty, it seemed impossible to him to carry out his self-denying resolutions. He drew her to him again, and said excitedly: "And must I do without you, be with you and not enfold you, not kiss you? Impossible! How long must it be?"
Then he became calm again. "Well, then, it must be."
When later on, Mrs. Benas entered, he kissed her hand. Not a word was said; yet they knew that each understood the other and that they were in accord. When the rest of the company joined them, nothing betrayed their secret conference. After dinner they gathered in the small drawing-room. Dr. Weilen's tactfulness made it easy to guide the conversation into general channels. He told of the successes of Germany's colonial policy, and what far-reaching significance it possessed.
"I do not quite understand why this policy is so obstinately opposed here," said Mr. Benas.
"It is because the masses are short-sighted, and appreciate nothing that cannot be realized in the near future. Their hand-to-mouth mode of living is the standard by which they measure everything. Why spend money upon ventures that will profit only future generations? Decidedly not. What nonsense! Here are the pennies, here is the bread for their own stomachs. What business of ours is it, if the coming generation eats cake instead of hard, dry bread? To-day's policy knows no to-morrow. Such is the logic of the narrow-minded and the illiberal, the philosophy of an insect with one day to live. It is obvious why the people espouse the policy, but it will not do to have it become the dominant policy. It has always been necessary to force upon the masses what was for their own good. Reformers and tyrants have had to apply the same formulæ. They have always had to be firm, resolute, not easily discouraged. They had to rule! Whatever they regarded as right, had to be carried through at every cost. World-power cannot be attained under a narrow local policy."
"Do you set great store by our colonial policy?"