"After this vow I have nothing more to hope," said Heinrich. "Farewell, my friend! One who has power to exercise such self-restraint has also strength to conquer her sorrow." He kissed her cold, pale brow, and hastily left the room.
"Thank God it has turned out so!" whispered Henri; and Heinrich also uttered a sigh of relief: he felt that he had escaped a great danger. He had been hurried on by a momentary impulse and Ottilie's unconcealed love to a step which he would have bitterly repented; for he was equally convinced that no one would ever understand him like Ottilie, and also that her appreciation alone would not satisfy him. As Henri desired more sensual, Heinrich demanded greater intellectual, charms. He wished to be excited, kept in a state of suspense, enlivened, amused: Ottilie's uniform, quiet earnestness would not have afforded him this, and he thanked her for having rightly understood his hasty enthusiasm and been generous enough to reject him.
Meantime, the queenly Ottilie stood motionless in the glittering apartment, her hand pressed to her heart and her eyes raised towards heaven. "Which of us is most to be pitied, he or I?"
[V.]
MASTER AND PUPIL
On his way home, Ottmar remembered that he had appointed this very hour for a tender meeting, and gradually the solemn impression made by the last few moments faded before the charming picture which now obtained the mastery over his soul. When he returned home his old valet, who had served him from childhood, met him with a pale, sleepy face, and slowly lighted the candles.
"Has not the little girl come yet?" asked Henri.
"Who?"
"Who should it be? Röschen," he added.
"Röschen, Marten the beadle's daughter, do you expect her?"