The others followed, and Elsa fluttered after them like the last swallow of autumn. They all entered the house by the large door opening upon the garden. Directly opposite was the door leading into the street. They began, laughing and talking, to ascend the stairs to the dining-room, when a carriage drove up. The Staatsräthin, who led the way, stopped and listened intently. It might be Johannes.
The door was at that instant thrown open, and he appeared,--but not alone. There was a lady leaning on his arm.
A murmur of surprise was heard.
Johannes was quite as much astonished at unexpectedly encountering such an assemblage as the guests were at his entrance with a veiled lady, who was evidently embarrassed and desirous to withdraw when she saw so many people. But Johannes detained her. "I pray you, remain," he said to her, "you have no cause for alarm."
The Staatsräthin leaned heavily upon Heim's arm, her knees trembled under her.
"Compose yourself," the old man whispered in her ear. "Submit to the inevitable,--remember that your son is master of the house."
"I shall not forget it," she replied softly, yet with bitterness.
In the mean time, Johannes had reached the staircase with the evidently reluctant Ernestine. "My dear mother," he said, looking up at her with a face radiant with pleasure, "I bring you another guest."
The Staatsräthin descended a couple of stairs with the air of one compelled to receive a guest whose visit she regards as anything but welcome.
"Fräulein von Hartwich," said Johannes, presenting her at once to his mother and his assembled friends, "has been persuaded by me to seek an asylum for this night beneath our roof, as her uncle is absent from home, leaving her alone and defenceless, the object of a low, and brutal conspiracy."