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GERTRUDE
5
en,
EAMILY PEIDE.
Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive
in 2009 with funding from
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GERTRUDE;
OE,
FAMILY PEIDE.
BY
IIES. TROLLOPE,
author of
the life and advextures of a clea'er wojiax," " ilrs. mathe^ys,'
"widow barnaby," etc., etc.
LONDOX:
CHAPMAN AND HALL, 103, PICCADILLY.
1864.
T2ffei
G E Pt T E IJ D E .
CHAPTER I.
In sitting oneself down to tlie somewhat idle occupation of
" Old tales telling of loves long ago," it is mneh. safer, for many
reasons, to give fictitious names to the various scenes in which
the circumstances occurred, than to challenge the criticism which
might discover either to much, or too little of truth in the details,
were the real names to he given.
Most of the circumstances upon which the following story is
founded, occurred in Germany, and it is therefore to Germany
that I will beg my reader to follow me.
It was upon a very fine morning in the month of June, that
two individuals, who are the first of my dramatis personoe to be
presented to him, might have been seen climbing steadily and
perseveringly, but at no very rapid pace, the steep hill which
overhangs the pretty little town to which I shall give the name
of Hindsdorf,
These two travellers were neither mounted knights ''pricking
o'er the plain," or the hill either; nor had they, in truth, the
appearance of belonging to any station to which the act of walk-
ing was not likely to be the ordinary mode of conveyance along
any highways, or bye-ways, by which it might be necessary for
them to travel.
But, nevertheless, few could have looked at them steadily for
one moment without feeling inclined to bestow a second, for the
purpose of looking at them again ; for both were very decidedly
well-looking, and being male and female, it would have been
difficult not to believe that the earnestness with which they were
2
gerteude; oe,
conversing, and the deep attention witli which each looked at,
and listened to, the other, proceeded from that tender passion
which is universally considered as heing particularly interest-
ing.
Both were in the earliest bright perfection of adult comeliness,
hut the gud looked somewhat the elder of the two. This was not
the case, however, for the young man was three years her senior ;
but being, as Eosalind says of herself, "more than common tall,"
and having, moreover, a remarkably firm step, and upright car-
riage, the girl looked considerably older than she was. The dress
of both was scrupulously neat, but shewed no pretension beyond
the Sunday garb of decent, well-conditioned peasants.
If examined by a critical eye, however, the young man might
have been suspected to be of a higher class than his companion,
for his linen was of a finer fabric than the most gala attire is
thought to render necessary among persons of the rank to which
it seemed evident that he belonged.
Any one within reach of hearing, as well as seeing them,
as they pursued their way, would have discovered that there was
a difference of opinion between them, or some very interesting
point which they were discussing, notwithstanding the air of love
and devotion which each seemed to feel for the other.
*'Fear nothing, my dear friend! " said the beautiful, tall, up-
right girl, as she stepped firmly and actively on beside her
companion; ''fear neither harshness, nor difficulty of any kind,
from the venerable man we are about to visit. All will go
smoothly with us, depend upon it." •
And then, after the silence of a moment, she added, the words
however, being tempered by a most lovely smile, " jS'ay ! I will
turn round, and run away ! I will indeed, if you permit yourself
to be thus overpowered by terror. AYhy, your arm positively
trembles I"
*' And can you wonder it should tremble ?" he replied, looking
at her almost reproachfully. " Oh ! do you not tremble too ! "
"N^ay, take my hand, and hold it steadily," she replied, laugh-
ingly. " Do you find any sympton of trembling, my good man ?"
"Surely, surely, you cannot love me as I love you, or you
could not be thus brave at contemplating the possibility of our
being parted for ever ! " he answered, in a voice of deep emotion,
as he pressed the hand she placed in his.
"But I contemplate no such possibility," she replied; adding,
in a firm but gentle voice, well calculated to sootiie the feelings
which she affected to chide, "I contemx^latc nothing but the
FAMILY PEIDE. 3
returning with you along this self-same path within an hour or
so, as your wedded wife ; and I see nothing in that at all likely
to make me tremble."
The young man only answered these cheering words by a pas-
sionate caress, and then they pursued their way in silence for a
minute or two.
Eut this silence was again soon broken by him, for, in a tone
which sounded a little as if he were relapsing into the fears for
which he had been chidden, he ventured to whisper, " Lut if this
piiest should declare that he would not marry us ? If he slwidd
say that it was his duty to be assiu'ed of the consent of our
parents and friends?"
'*^Yhy, in that case, my good man," returned his still smil-
ing companion, "in that case, we must take our leave of him
very respectfully^ and betake oui'selves and our wedding-fee to
another."
",Eut do you not rest too much hope and faith upon that large
wedding-fee, dearest?" said the youth, shaking his head.
"It is possible I may," she replied; "but till experience
teaches me the contrary, I am strong, very strong, in the faith
and hope which the amount of it inspires. They say, that is, the
worldly-wise, of coui'se ; but the worldly-wise do say that the
priesthood ^of the present day) have a great respect for money.
Perhaps they think that the possession of it may enable them to
do much good. And they are right there, my friend. Money is
certainly a powerful agent, either for good or evil, as the case may
be. If he be a reasoning, right-thinking man, he cannot fail to
perceive, from the amount of the sum we are about to offer him,
that the attachment between us is a very true one. It must be a
rare thing for people of our station to offer so large a sum for the
purpose of being permitted to enter the pale of holy matrimony.
And though it is likely enough that he will guess, from the secret
manner in which we present ourselves, that our respective parents
are probably at feud, and, therefore, would oppose the marriage,
he must, at the same time, be aware that there would a great
and useless cruelty in attempting to keep asunder a pair who love
each other well enough to part vrith a sum which, of course, must
be so important to them ! Moreover, a very little common sense
will suffice to convince him that, if he will not marry us, some
other priest will."
This conversation, earnest as it was, had not impeded their
pace, and they had now reached the simimit of the hill they had
long been ascending. The level they had thus obtained, however^
2—2
a geeteude; oe,
did not continue above a quarter of a mile, before they arrived at
a somewhat steep declivity on the other side, which terminated in
the little town which they trusted would prove the termination
of their excursion ; for there dwelt the priest whom they hoped
would consent to unite them in the bonds of holy wedlock.
The young girl had never visited this little town before, but it
was sufficiently well known to her companion, to enable him, as
they descended the hill, to point out to her the dwelling of the
priest whom they came to seek ; which humble dwelling seemed
to make part and parcel of the little church within whose walls
they hoped to receive the benediction which was to insure their
mutual happiness for life. Something like a tremor seemed to
pass over her, however, as he pointed out the spot, and said,
'' There is the church, dearest; and there, under the same roof, as
it should seem, is the dwelling of the priest.
He felt that she trembled as he pronounced these words, and
suddenly stopping, he dropped the arm which rested on his, and
placing himself directly before her, he fixed his earnestly en-
quiring eyes upon her face, and said, '' Do you eepe:xt ? It is not
yet too late to say say. Speak ! "
The young girl did not immediately obey him. She did not
speak, but she fixed her eloquent eyes upon his face, and let them
speak for her ; and truly it may be doubted, if a more perfect
model of human beauty, than she then gazed upon, ever met the
eye of a mortal, since the original of the Apollo stood before the
statuary who has given him an earthly immortality.
She looked at him very fixedly for a moment ; and then she
sio'hcd. But it was the si<2,'h of tenderness, and of passion. Ecgret
had nothing to do with it ; and in the next moment she smiled
again, and smilingly recovered possession of his arm, and drawing
him back to his place at her side, only replied to his question by
a gentle pressure, and an accelerated pace.
His reply to this silent decision was also given in silence. A
look, and again a gentle pressure of the arm, said quite as much
as any words could have done, A few moments brought them to
the arched gateway of the little town of Hindsdorf, and a few
more to the door of the priest's house.
*' Was the priest at home ?" was the question asked with trem-
bling eagerness by the young man. The answer was in the
affirmative, and about two steps more brought them from the
humble door of the house to another equally humble, which
opened upon a small snug room, near the open window of which
sat the holy man, whose services they came to purchase j he held
FiJJZLY PRIDE. 5
a book in his hand, bnt his eyes were fixed npon the blooming
little floATcr-gardcu, on which the window opened.
It wonld not have been very easy for even more experienced
eyes to have formed any very decided opinion npon the temper
and character of the man whose face was turned towards them,
as soon as she became aware that the door of the room was opened.
His age. appeared to be about sixty, or something beyond it, but
though rather a spare man, he had still a look of health and ac-
tivity, and his eye had lost nothing of the keen expression for
which it must ever hare been remarkable.
The old woman who had admitted our lovers, linirered for
a moment m the doorway, as if wishing to hear them declare
their errand ; but her master checked her indiscretion by saying,
in an accent which Avas, however, only remarkable from its pecu-
liar distinctness, " Shut the door."
This command was as promptly obeyed as it was given ; and
then the old man turned to his two young visitors, and said,
'' AYliat is yoiu^ business ?"
'' AVe are come to Hindsdorf to be married," replied the young
man, without adding another syllable.
The old priest looked at them both rather earnestly for a mo-
ment, and then raised his eye-brows, and shook his head. Any
description of the scene which followed would be quite super-
fluous ; it is enough to say, that the young girl had not rested a
vain hope upon the influence of the wedding fee which they had
contrived to bring with them. The names of both were equally,
and utterly unknown to the old man, whereas the value of their
gold was a matter of no mystery whatever.
jSTor did he think it necessary to make any great difliculty about
the matter. He very hospitably regaled them Avith the best
refreshment which his house afforded, and exerted himself very
actively while they were engaged in taking it, in order to get
everything in order for the ceremony which was to follow.
The priest of Hindsdorf was giTatly respected in his parish,
and he found no difliculty in obtaining proper and sufficient wit-
nesses for the ceremony he was about to perform.
In a word, the purpose of the unfriended young couple was
achieved with no bustle, and with as little delay as possible ; and
the most remarkable circumstance which I have at present to
relate respecting it is, that though they walked so lovingly toge-
ther to the town of Hindsdorf, they left it by two difi'ercnt routes,
which appeared to lead them as far asunder as it was possible they
could go.
gektefde; oh.
CHAPTER II.
"We have all read stately stories of proud old tarons m more
lands than one ; and if our researches into the annals of the race
have led us far back, we may have read too of predatory harons,
nay, of murdering barons also ; each one furnishing a theme
fruitful in incident, and precious to all the numerous class of
readers who love excitement better than example.
I, too, have a story to tell about a baron, and, moreorei', about
a German baron, which is, I believe, considered as the most
romantic species of the class ; but unfortunately the date of my
story is not so favourable as I could wish it to be, for it is
too recent to furnish authority for any of those highly- wrought
descriptions of awful acts, and startling facts, which are so
readily welcomed by the imagination, when the period at which
they occurred is sufficiently remote to render the application
of the test of probability, only a mark of ignorance as to the
prodigious difference between the present and the past. Such as
my story is, however, I Avill tell it without further preface, only
begging for a little more of the indulgence which has so often
been granted to me.
The Baron von Schwanberg was already an old man when my
narrative begins, but still young enough, nevertheless, to be
as self-willed and headstrong a gentleman as could easily be found
at any age. He was, moreover, one of the very proudest men
that ever existed ; but there was such an honest and undoubting
sincerity of belief in his own greatness, that few of those who
approached him could refuse to sympathise with his feelings
sufficiently to prevent their betraying any very decided doubt of
his greatness ; for it was easy to perceive that no such doubt could
be betrayed to him, without producing a more violent effect than
any reasonable person would wish to witness.
Had he lived more in the world, this half-insane state of mind
must of necessity have been cured ; but evciy circumstance of his
life had unfortunately tended to increase it.
He was early placed, with all the distinction usually shewn to
rank and fortune, in one of the most favoured regiments of
the Emperor of Austria ; and if he had remained there, he
FAMILY PETDE. 7
would liavc been siirj to learn, notwitlistanding this grace
and favour, that he was but a man, though a very noble one.
]3ut unfortunately his lather died within a year after the young
officer had attained the age of twenty-one years, and, as the
country was then most profoundly at peace, no objection of any
kind was made to his withdrawing himself to his estates in
Hungary, which were indeed large and important enough to
render the personal superintendence of their possessor extremely
necessary.
Setting aside the sort of monomaniaoal pride above mentioned,
the Earon von Schwanbcrg was far from being a bad man ; and
if he believed that the duties which devolved upon him at the
death of his father, were only second in importance to those
which fell upon the Emperor himself, when his imperial parent
was removect from the earth, he believed also that great and
grave duties devolved upon him likewise, and very earnestly did
the youthful baron determine to perform them faithfully.
Having, by very careful and judicious inquiry, ascertained
both the character and the position of the many families in
his immediate neighbourhood, who were either the tenants,
cr the labourers on his property, he made various regulations,
all tending to encourage and reward their industry ; and it
would have been difficult to find in any land an estate, upon
which the toiling labourers, who converted its soil into gold,
had less reason to complain of their lot.
That these labourers were considered by the baron as no more
of the same order of beings as himself, than were the docile oxen
which they led to plough, or the milky herds which enriched
their dairies, is most certain ; but the Earon von Schwanberg
was as unconscious of committing any fault or folly, by so think-
ing, as he was when selecting a rose from his flower-garden, and
testifying his approval of it, by permitting it to bloom for his
especial pleasure on his drawing-room table.
But, nevertheless, though his gigantic estimate of his own
greatness did not weigh upon his conscience, it was in many
ways troublesome to him. It cannot be doubted, that such a
young man as the baron, almost as far removed from frivolity
of all sorts as from right thinking upon most subjects, — it
cannot be doubted that such a man had not long found him-
self at the head of his illustrious house, before he began to
turn his thoughts towards the necessary and all-important busi-
ness of forming such a matrimonial alliance as, while it provided
for the continuance of his race, should add no symbol to the
8 geeteitie; oe,
bearings on his shield which could be consid.red as iimvorthy of
a place there.
Eut the task he thus set himself wa^, in truth, no easy one.
'Not for a moment during- the many years through Avhicli tliis
difficult search lasted, did he ever permit his eye to wander
in pursuit of beauty, however attractive, or his heart to soften
under the influence of the sweetest smiles that woman could
bestow. Some adverse fate seemed to be at work against him ;
for, although, in addition to his noble descent, and his large
and unincumbered estates, he was decidedlv a verv handsome
man, his hand had been more than once rejected. It is probable
that he was too much in earnest in the real object which lie had
in view, to disguise his comparative indifference on other points ;
for it would be really difficult to account for his many disap-
pointments on any other ground. At length, however, his
persevering researches were rewarded by what he considered
as the most brilliant success ; for during his annual visit to
Vienna he had the happiness of meeting, wooing, and winning a
young countess, who really seemed to possess every Cjualification
to make the marriage state happy, save and except the paltry
article of wealth ; but as he really would have considered a largo
fortune in his wife a very useless superfluity, the want of it was
by no means considered as an obstacle to the union ; and at
length, therefore, a few months before his fiftieth birthday,
the Baron von Schwanberg was united to the young, beautiful,
and high-born Countess Gertrude von AYolkcndorf.
AYhen a marriage so every way desirable has been achieved by
a lover, he is apt to think that he has reached the happiest mo-
ment of his existence ; but this was not exactly the case with
the Earon von Schwanberg. He was certainly greatly delighted
to find himself, at length, married to precisely such a noble
young lady as it had been his wish to find ; but not even from
her would he have attempted to conceal the fact, that the happi-
ness of possessing her was a blessing of conderably less importance
than that of the heir which he anticipated as its result.
Fortunately, the prospect of this crowning blessing soon became
evident, and the delight of the Baron von Schwanberg thei'cupon
was almost too great to be restrained within any reasonable
bounds. His young wife was often at a loss to know how
she ought to receive these vehement demonstrations of his
happiness. Like most other women, she gladly welcomed the
trial that awaited her, for the sake of the treasure which her
womanly hope told her would reward her for it ; but as to sym-
TAMILY PEIDE. 9
pathising with the almost conyiilsivc raptures daily and hourly
expressed by her husband, it was beyoud her power. She was
by nature thouglitful, gentle, and rather undemonstrative, than
the reverse ; and moreover, she was as true as she was reasonable ;
and the sort of affectation which it would have required to enable
her to appear in a state of ccstacy equal to his own, would have
required a sacrifice of sincerity which it was not in her nature to
make.
As it never entered the head of the Baron von Schwanberg, to
suppose it possible that any lady who shared with him in all the
honours and glories of his position, as his wife, should be insen-
sible to the happiness of transmitting them to an heir, he very
soon began to torment himself with the terrible idea, that the
preternatural composure and indifference, as he called it, of his
wife's manner, arose from ill-health ; and from the time this idea
first suggested itself to him, he never for a moment lost sight of
the possibility, nay, probability, that all his hopes might at last
prove abortive.
Grievously did he torment his unfortunate lady, who, to say
the truth, was in very excellent health, by his unceasing anxiety
about her condition ; till at length, finding that the most tender
and persevering enquiries could obtain from her nothing but
reiterated assurances that she was "quite well," he suddenly
took the resolution of adding a domestic accoucheur to his estab-
lishment; and as he did not deem it either necessary or judicious
to explain to his lady all the parental terrors which had induced
him to take this step, ^ladame von Schwanberg was a good deal
surprised by the lengthened visit of the grave and not very
amusing individual whom her husband now introduced to her as
one of his particular friends.
This introduction, however, was, of course, enough to insure
her treating him with all the consideration due to an honoured
guest ; nor, to say the truth, was she at all insensible to the relief
she might experience by her magnificent husband having the
society of a friend, whose presence might occasionally excuse the
necessity of her own, and leave her thereby at liberty to listen,
in the retirement of her own apartments, to ''those silent friends
that ever please ; " an indulgence which, if not absolutely denied
to her, had been vciy greatly restricted since the Earon von
Schwanberg had made her the partner of his greatness.
But, by degress, it seemed as if this particular friend of her
husband's was inclined to assume the right of being her particular
friend also. Again and again, it chanced that when the Baron
10 GERTRUDE; OS,
brougTit him to pay a daily yisit of compliment to his lady, in
her own particular sitting-room, he lingered behind, when the
lord of the mansion retired ; and, by degress, this very snpcr-
flnons degree of attention was rendered still more remarkable, and
still more disagreeable, by his removing from the place he had
occnpied during the presence of the lady's husband, and taking a
seat next to her, often, indeed, on the very sofa she occupied.
And then followed, before she could quite make up her mind
as to the best mode of escaping this annoyance, the inconceivable
audacity of his taking her hand, and holding it for several
minutes in his, despite her very decided efforts to withdraw it.
The Baroness von Schwanberg was one of the last women
in the world to suspect a gentleman of falling in love with her ;
but it appeared to her impossible to suggest any other solution
capable of explaining the extraordinary conduct of the Herr
Walters.
For several days, however, after his idea first occurred, she
very earnestly endeavoured to persuade herself that it was impos-
sible ; and nothing but the persevering repetition of the offence
could have induced her, at length, to confess to her husband that
she did not like the manners of his friend, the Herr Walters ;
that he was a vast deal too familiar in his mode of addi-essing
her, to suit her notions of propriety ; and that she greatly wished
that a time for his departure might be fixed as soon as possible.
It would be difficult to conceive anything more ludicrous than
the manner in which the Baron von Schwanberg listened to this
remonstrance. He had cautiously avoided mentioniug to his lady
the profession of his guest, from the fear of endangering her
health by creating a feeling of alarm ; and it was, therefore, with
no appearance of surprise, but with an aspect of the most serene
satisfaction, that he now listened to her observations respecting
the offensive familiarity of his manner.
The B<aron von Schwanberg had much too profound respect for
the noble lineage of his lady, to make it easy for him to allow,
even to himself, that she had any of the faults or defects to which
inferior people are liable ; but, nevertheless, there was one trait
in her character to which, with all his efforts, he could not be
wholly blind, and which, assuredly, often occasioned him some-
thing very nearly approaching to vexation. And no wonder, for
this defect in lady's character was the apparent absence of that
noble feeling which the vulgar call pride, but which all higher
classes of the human race more properly designate as a high-
minded appreciation of their own position. It was, therefore,
FAMILY TEIDE. ' 11
with a gi^eatcr clcgi'ce of satisfaction than can be easily imagined
by persons differently situated, that the Earon Ton Sch^vanberg
now listened to his lady's indignant observations on tke too great
familiarity of the Ilerr Walters' manners towards her.
The baron was not of a caressing disposition, or he would
probably have testified his feelings by giving his lady a warm
embrace. But, although he did not do this, he testified his
feelings in a manner equally elocjuent, for he immediately stood
up, and placing his right hand on his breast while he saluted
her, by touching the left with his lips, he made her a very pro-
found bow, and said, with an approving smile, as he recovered
his perpendicular position :
" Your feelings, my dear lady, are exactly what I would wish
them to be. That you should resent anything, and everything,
that could suggest the idea of impertinent familiarity, is not only
what I should expect from the lady whom I have so carefully
selected as my wile, but it is precisely what I should most honour
and most admire in the lady of my choice. And now, having
done this justice to you, and to myself, let me also do justice to
the very respectable individual whom you have been led to con-
sider as defective in that perfect respect and deference which
your father's daughter, and my wife, have such undoubted right
to expect. And now permit m,e to explain to you the real cause
of the conduct which has appeared to you as objectionable in the
worthy Hcrr "W^alters."
And having said this, the Earon von Schwanberg sat himseK
down on the sofa beside his lady, and proceeded to explain to
to her the nature of the attention which their new inmate had
bestowed upon her.
There would be no use in attempting to describe the transition
from one species of displeasure to another, which was the result
of this confidential disclosure to the persecuted baroness, for it
may be very easily imagined.
The prevailing cj^uality of her temper was gentleness, or, more
correctly speaking, tranquility. jS^o lady living ever troubled
herseK less concerning the afiairs of other people, nor was she at
all disposed to suspect that other people took the liberty of
troubling themselves about hers ; and the now finding herself
the object, and the avowed object, of the unceasing observation
of her very particularly tiresome husband, and his professional
assistant, was a sore trial to her usually dignified composure of
manner.
If the medical gentleman had touched her pulse at that moment,
12 geeteijde; oe, ,
he would assuredly hare felt himself called upon to declare that
it made no Tory "healthful music;" but, fortunately for her
patience, she escaped this trial ; and when her observant spouse
perceived that his statement respectinp; the Herr AN'alters' position
in his family caused a veiy considerable augmentation of colour
on the delicate cheek of his lady, he peiTiiitted himself to look at
her Tvith a sort of patronizing smile, as he promised to indulge
the timidity of her youthful shyness, as far as it was possible to
do so without withdi^awing the attention necessary to her
precious health !
'' The timiditv of her youthful shyness ! " The feelina: which
her unsuspicious husband thus described, might have been called
a movement of almost ungovernable rage, with much more
justice.
The baroness half rose from her chair, and her project was,
probably, to leave the room; but she conquered herself sufficiently
to resume her scat, and another moment enabled her to avoid the
folly of expressing anger that would be equally unintelligible,
and disregarded. For a second thoucht sufficed to su2:2:est a
wiser course. If their strange visitor was retained in the house
for the express purpose of examining the state of her health, he
might (she thought), if he had been as great a fool as his
employer, have made himself still more troublesome than he had
been ah'eady ; and although his doing so might have saved her
from the ridiculous blunder into which she had fallen, it would
have left less hope of her being able to prevent his annoying her
for the future.
The destiny of the unfortunate baroness had, unhappily, pre-
cluded the possibility of her acting on any occasion wherein her
husband was concerned, with the frankness and sincerity which
was oi'iginally a part of her nature ; and after meditating very
•seriously for the first few weeks after her marriage upon the
comparative evils, and the comparative sins, attending a syste-
matic course of falsehood, and a systematic course of truth, in
her intercourse with him, she deliberately decided upon the
former.
It took but little time to prove to her, beyond the hope of
mistake, that her husband was a pompous fool, incapable of act-
ing from rational motives ; incapable of forming a rational
opinion ; and pretty nearly incapable of uttering a rational word.
Should she be doing right if she so conducted herself as to make
it evident to himself, and to others, that such was the opinion
she had thus formed of him ? She thought not. And having
FAMILY PEIDE. 13
come to this conclusion, she acted upon it with a steady, quiet
perseverance, which not only prevented his happiness from heing
troubled by any doubts concerning either his own wisdom or
hers, but which puzzled many an intelligent looker-on as to the
strange phenomenon of such a woman as the Earoness von
Schwanberg thinking it right and proper (as she so evidently
did), to listen with attention to the Earon von Schwanberg
whenever he thought proper to speak ; let his language be ever
so frequent, or ever so long.
At length, however, a very remarkably clever man, when dis-
cussing this puzzling subject with a friend, observed, that he saw
but one way of accounting for it ; which was, by supposing that
the high-born baroness was at heart quite as proud as the high-
born baron, although she did not betray the feeling so openly as
her husband; ''and in that case," added his philosophical
observer, " you may depend upon it, she really does think every
word he utters is worth listening to."
Eut we must return to the Ute-d-tcte which these remarks
have interrupted ; no so sooner had the idea occurred to Madame
von Schwanberg, that the physician might not be the fool which
he was probably fee'd to appear ; than she determined to give
him a hint or two which might prevent the thraldom in which
she was placed, from being utterly intolerable. Fortunately for
all the parties concerned, born and unborn, she found him apt ;
and from that time, till his final dismissal after the birth of
her child, he proved himself a very useful friend, cleverly con-
triving to become the recipient of the baron's parental medi-
tations, whether hopeful or tearful, and procuring thereby some-
thing like comparative peace to the unfortunate object of his
anxiety.
CHAPTEE III.
Eut, at last, the great, the important day arrived, which was
to repay the Earon von Schwanberg for all the anxieties he had
endured, by blessing his longing eyes with the sight of the illus-
trious little baron, whose distinguished destiny it was, to per-
perpetuate the honours of the Schwanberg race.
14 GETtTEUDE; OE,
The judicious professional attendant of the lady had succeeded
in persuading him, that the most serious and deplorable conse-
quences might ensue, if the latter part of the time, which pre-
ceded the anticipated event, were not passed by her in the
unbroken repose of her own dressiug-room ; and it is highly
probable, that this friendly precaution, on the part of the rational
and kind-hearted individual, who, from an involuntary persecutor,
had become a pitying friend, saved her from such a fever on the
spirits, as might have endangered her own life, if not that of her
child ; for if the ceaseless worry and impatience, in which the
father expectant passed this interval, had been shared, or even
witnessed by his unfortunate wife, it is scarcely possible that it
could have failed of producing very painful effects.
As it was, however, the Baroness von Schwanbcrg brought
forth in safety. But, alas ! her offspring* was a daughter ! L
will not attempt to describe the state of mind into which the
announcement of this fact threw the baron. This was an occur-
rence which, from a strange sort of infatuation had never occurred
to him as possible. In fact, his mind, which was not a very ex-
pansive one, had been, not only since his marriage, but long
before it, so fully and wholly occupied by the idea of having a
son, that the possibility of his having a daughter had never
occurred to him.
The Herr AValters was not only a kind-hearted, but really a
sensible man, which was proved by the manner in which he had
contrived to prevent his very unnecessary presence in the family
from being an annoyance to its unfortunate mistress. But it
should seem that he was not a brave man ; for his courage failed
him altogether, when he remembered that the baron had made
promise to come to him in person, as soon as the child was born,
that he might at once learn his opinion exactly as to its state of
health, and so forth.
But the good doctor really dared not face the baron under such
circumstances. The task of telling him that all his noble antici-
pations of seeing before him the glorious prospect of an endless
race of barons were vain, and that, instead of this, he must con-
tent himself with being the father of a little girl, was more than
he had courage to perform. The direful tidings were therefore
conveyed to the unfortunate nobleman by one of the attendants,
with an intimation that Herr Walters was in attendance upon
the baroness, and could not leave her just at present.
It would be equally vain and needless to attempt describing
the condition into which this announcement threw the unfor-
FAMILY PEIDE. 15
tiinate fatlier ; for, however powerful the description might be,
it could only convey an idea of his real condition to those capable
of conceiving it, and fortunately the great majority of human
beings would, judging from their own feelings, conceive such a
description to be unnatural. Yet such things are.
The judicious Herr AYalters took care to prevent his perfectly
contented patient from being disturbed during the first days of
her convalescence by the presence of her husband, lest the real
state of his mind might become apparent to her ; and by so doing
he certainly contributed very essentially to her comfort ; never-
theless, the lady would probably have progressed with equal
certainty towards recovery, if these precautions had been omitted;
for the temper, the spirits, and even the feelings of Madam von
Schwanberg, had become pretty near callous to all the superb
absurdities of her husband; and most assuredly it would have
been greatly beyond his power to have expressed or manifested
any feeling concerning the arrival of her new-born treasure,
which could in the least degree have lessened her happiness in
possessing it.
Meanwhile the little Gertrude grew, and prospered ; and as it
was the will of Heaven that she should be an only child, not
even the inferiority of her sex could prevent her becoming a
person of considerable consequence, even in the estimation of her
father.
To her devoted mother she certainly appeared to be as near
perfection as it was possible for any mortal mixture of earth's
mould to be ; and even her disappointed father soon began to
think that, although unfortunately she was not a son, she was
such a daughter as only the house of Schwanberg could produce.
Allowance must me made, however, for the natural partiality
both of father and mother. Gertrude von Schwanberg was a
splendidly handsome child, and showed early symptoms both of
intelligence and good temper; but nevertheless, the young
baroness was very far from being the perfect being her progenitors
supposed her to be ; for in truth she inherited, in a very con-
siderable degree, the faults of both. But she wore these faults
with a difference ; or rather, the fact of their being blended,
produced a result by no means very exactly resembling the
character either of the one or the other.
From her father she certainly inherited a kind temper and a
generous hand. Like him, she could never witness want or
suffering, without feeling a very earnest wish to relieve it. But
she inherited from him also no inconsiderable portion of pride.
16 geeteude; oe,
This last-named quality, hoTvevcr, ^as more changed by trans-
mission, than these before mentioned ; for Gertrude inherited
from her mother, not only a bright intelligence, but also the
clearness of head, which, if it has fair play, leads to that most
precious of all faculties, common sense ; and where this is found
in action, pride, though it may exist, must cast off its fooleries.
The mental superiority of her mother, however, could not,
either by inheritance or precept, obliterate the self-willed perti-
nacity of character which was so remarkable in her father ; but
her mind being of larger scope, her self-will could never have
been as perfectly satisfied as his, by the preservation of an un-
blemished coat of arms.
And excellent as her mother was, she too had her faults.
If the baron had too much pride in one direction, she had too
much pride in another ; and their child was as likely to suffer
from this sort of inheritance on the mother's side, as on the
father's.
The Baroness von Schwanberg's adoration of talent, and con-
tempt for the want of it, might very truly be said to know no
bounds ; and to communicate these feelings to her child, speedily
became the great object of her life.
Had the father of this child been a little less absurd in his
estimate of human affairs in general, and of his own position in
particular, the feelings of his wife towards him would have been
very different, for, in that case, her estimate of her respective
duties as a Avife and a mother, might have been more justly
balanced ; but, as it was, she felt as if she had done her child
gTeat wrong by permitting herself to be persuaded to form the
alliance which had given her so unintellectual a father ; and in
order to atone for this, she put but little restraint upon herself
wlien discussing the inanity of his pursuits, or the absurdity of
his notions.
But, fortunately for both x^arties, nature seemed to take the
feelings both of the father and the daughter into her own hands,
and that, too, without changing the intellectual condition of
cither. The baron, perhaps, never quite ceased to lament in his
inmost soul that his daughter was not his son ; but, nevertheless,
a very few years sufS.ced to teach him that a daughter was a
thing that might be very dearly loved ; and he did love his
beautiful Gertrude very dearly.
The young girl, on the other liand, guided by the same kind
of unerring impulse, soon discovered that though papa did not
know so many things as mamma, it was still very nice to have a
FAinLT PEIDE. 17
father so fond of one ; and perhaps the worst effect of this divided
duty was, that it taught her to feel how much more important
she was to both, than either of them was to the other — a dis-
covery which was likely enough to lead to the dangerous con-
clusion, that she was able to manage them both.
And that this was, in a great degree, the case, is very certain ;
and had the young heiress been a little-minded girl, she would
have been ruined by it ; but fortunately, she was not. She had
a multitude of faults, both heriditary and acc^uircd, but littleness
of mind was not among them.
She would have no more condescended artfully to use her in-
fluence on either, for the purpose of obtaining any childish indul-
gence, than she would have cut off her own little finger ; but
she certainly did not scruple to profit by the indulgence of both,
in the way most agreeable to each. It was with her father,
therefore, that she enjoyed the great delight of cantering on her
beautiful little pony, not only over every part of his wide domain,
but considerably beyond its confines, when the doing so could
afford her an opportunity of looking on upon the chase, in which
her father delighted, and in which he very frequently indulged,
considering it as the only amusement which could be strictly
considered as truly and exclusively xoele.
In this much-loved recreation her mother could take no part,
for she had never been a horse-woman ; but having all confidence
in the care taken of the little girl by her father in these excur-
sions, her good sense and right feeling taught her to rejoice
instead of lament, that there was some portion of her daugther's
days which might be passed in the society of her father, without
either positive loss of time or positive privation of pleasui^e.
And this portion, and her presence at his daily meals, appeared
to satisfy the good baron completely.
Her mother, on the other hand, was equally well contented by
the portion of this precious daughter's hours which was allotted
to her.
The only stipulation on which she insisted was, that she should
have no governess but herself. Her own education had been well
attended to. She was an excellent musician, di-ew with taste
and correctness, and was quite as good a linguist as she wished
her daughter to be ; all this, she was quite aware, might be also
acquired by her Gertrude, by the aid of an accomplished woman,
who might easily be hired for the purpose of teaching her ; nor
was she at all unconscious of the fact that she should herself be
spared many hours of fatigue by this arrangement.
3
18 GElilHIIDE ; OE,
Bat the steadfast-mindocl motlicr had what she conceived to he
much higher objects in view than conhl be obtained in the ordi-
nary routine of education by the assistance of a governess. She
had long ceased to hinient, with anything like bitterness, the
fate which had given her one of the dullest men that ever lived
as a husband and companion ; for she had enough of practical
wisdom to be aware that her happiness would have been much
more effectually destroyed by a man who, with less of dullness,
had a greater propensity to interfere with the opinions of his
wife, and who might have interfered more fatally still "with the
occupation of her time.
Eut although she felt that there might be qualities in a hus-
band worse than dullness, the terrible vision, which was long
the hete noir of her existence, arose from the fear that the intellect
of her child might resemble that of its father.
Her chief reason for deciding that she would herself be the
instructress of the little Gertrude, arose from the conviction that
so only could she be able to form a just estimate of her faculties
and disposition. " Should I," thought she, " find my spirits or
my strength unequal to the task, I can resign it ; but this shall
not be done till I have enabled myself to form something like a
correct judgment of what she is."
The experiment was made, and the result was most propitious
in every way.
It required no maternal partiality to convince her that,
although the little girl might inherit the Schwanberg estates, it
was quite impossible that she shoy.ld ever give evidence of her
lawful right to them by any resemblance to their present
possessor.
The fate of ]Madame von Schwanberg had certainly not hitherto
been a happy one. She had known what it was to love, and be
disappointed. She had known, too, the weariness, not to say
misery, of becoming the wife of a man utterly incapable of being
a companion, and yet, perhaps, not quite deserving the feeling
he inspired.
But, be this as it may, she soon discovered that her only re-
source against something very like despair must be sought in
herself; and, fortunately, she was not long in discovering that
she should not seek it in vain. The quiet baron had not the
slightest objection to her exercising her own taste in the arrange-
ment of her apartments ; and if her constant additions to his fine
old library had cost him thousands instead of hundreds, he would
have made no sort of objection to it, for it would have caused
FAMILY PEIDE. 19
him no inconvenionce ; nay, even if it had, and that his forests,
or his flocks either, had been thinned to furnish what she needed,
he would gTeatly have preferred making the sacrilice to enduring
the idea that his wife, the Earoncss von Schwanhcrg, shouH
want anything which the most powerful of German nobles could
obtain. Of course, this sort of indulgence, together with the
perfectly well-founded conviction that the baron did not expect
his baroness to bestow much of her company upon him, in a
great degree reconciled her to her lot.
And then, heaven graciously sent her the little Gertrude !
Her satisfaction at the arrival of this precious treasure would
have been more perfect still, had not the fears before-mentioned
blended her hopes with doubts.
The scheme she had hit upon, of being herself her little
daughter's governess, was extremely well imagined, and perfectly
successful ; for, before the little baroness had completed her tenth
year, her mother had become very comfortably convinced that
i there was as little intellectual resemblance between the father
! and daughter as she could possibly desire ; and having ascertained
' this important fact very completely to her satisfaction, she prayed
God to forgive her for having been so very anxious about it ; and
, also for the extreme gratification which she derived from the
result of her watchful study of infant character.
This important question being thus settled to her satisfaction,
the baroness, like a good woman as she was, took care not to
impede, but, on the contrary, to foster, by every rational means
in her power, the growing attachment between the father and
daughter.
The little girl had her mother's beautiful eyes, hair, and teeth,
but she also, in many respects, resembled her father. Her
growth, and finely-formed limbs, seemed to promise that, in a
^feminine degree, she would prove a worthy scion of the stately
house of Schwanberg ; and it was, happily, very evident also that,
in the vigorous healthfulness of her constitution, she much more
nearly resembled her father than her mother.
Of this resemblance the baron was fully as conscious as his
lady could be of the child's intellectual features ; and it would
be difficult to say which parent was best pleased by the resem-
' blance which each traced.
The good baron, however, reasoned about it much less than his
philosophical-minded lady. It is very possible that, sincerely as
, she wished that a strong mutual attachment should exist between
the father and his child, she might have been less willing to see
3—3
20 geeteijde; oe,
them so well pleased in each other's society, had the resemhlance
between them been of an intellectual instead of a physical kind.
Could she have belieyed that, during the many hours in which
they were riding or walking together, the spirit of the child
would have kindled into the same sort of eager animation, that
it was the delight of her heart to witness, when she was herself
the bright young creature's only companion, a feeling of no very
pleasant kind would have been the result. In short, had the
father and daughter been more intellectually alike, the mother
might have been less willing to see them share so many hours of
exercise and amusement together.
CHAPTER lY.
But Madame de Scwanberg was not quite right in supposing
that those very hours could be thus passed tetc-a-Ute with her
father, without producing some effect upon the child's mind, and
manner of thinking. In forming this opinion, she had forgotten
that the mind of the baron had its particular liobhy, as well as
her own, and that her feelings of love and reverence for genius
and knowledge, were neither more active nor more ardent, than
his for high descent and aristocratic station. jS'or did the ample
stores of her library furnish more fitting materials for making
her child intellectual, than the ample extent of his domain offered
for rendering his heiress proud.
And, in fact, she rode by his side, and listened to the long
stories he recounted of the succession of noble ancestors who had
possessed, and ruled over, these fields and forests, and indulged
their subject tenants, and their favoured friends, by permitting
them to join in the glorious chase, to which their magnificent
extent offered such rare facilities, till the little girl certainly did
begin to think that her papa was a very great man indeed.
ISTor did he permit her to remain long in ignorance of the agree-
able fact, that she was destined by providence to become, in the
course of time, a very great woman herself. At first, she only
laughed at this, and thought he was joking; and tlien, when she
perceived he was in earnest, she blushed, and felt half shocked.
FA^riLY TEILE. 21
and half friglitcncd, at the idea of becoming the ruler and the
qnccn over so many grown-np people.
Upon the whole, however, the idea was by no means disagree-
able ; and by degrees she began to wonder that her dear mamma
(who mnst, of course, know all abont her futnre gi'eatness as well
as her papa) had never said one single word to her on the subject.
I3y degress, too, this reserve became painful to her ; and when she
was about twelve years old, she suddenly took the resolution of
asking her mother why, among all the things she taught her
about what was right, and what was wrong, she never said any-
thing as to the sort of way in which she ought to behave when
she came into possession of her father's great estates.
"I could give you many reasons, Gertrude, for never spending
any of our precious time upon such a subject," replied her mother.
*' Pray do tell me some of them, mamma !" returned the child ;
**for I want \qyj much to know all about it."
"One reason for my silence might perhaps be, that I know
very little about it myself," said the baroness; "and another
certainly is, that I consider it very unlikely that you should ever
find yourself in a situation to require the information you ask
for."
"How can that be, mamma ?" said Gcrtnide, slightly knitting
her beautiful brow ; " is it not certain that I shall be my papa's
heiress?"
" Ko, not quite certain," returned her mother, carelessly; "for
I may die before your father, and he might marry again, and
have a son. Eut, even if this does not happen, there is very
little danger, my dear, that you should ever be troubled about
the management of the estate. Of course, you will marry, as
other girls do, and there will be no more occasion for you to
trouble yoiu'self about the estate, than there is for me to do so."
There are no auditors in the world more amenable to the influ-
ence of common sense than children. There is neither fallacy nor
puzzle in it, and there is always a sort of self-evident truth about
it, which is to the mind what light is to the eye ; and the state-
ment that we believe what we see, is as correct respecting the
one, as respecting the other.
Gertrude troubled herself no more respecting the difficulties
attending the management of her future dominions ; but it was
not very long before the idea suggested itself to her, that although
she might never have much to do with the management of her
estate herself, it Avould be proper for her to be very careful not to
marry any one who was not well qualified to manage it for her.
22 GEEinrDE; ce,
This task of selectioD, liowever, did not trouble her mucli ; but,
neTortheles?, a tolerably firm resolution took root, almost uncon-
sciously perhaps, in her young mind, that the said selection should
be made by herself.
Her life, meanwhile, was one of almost unmixed enjoyment,
for the wearisome dullness of her father was uufelt when she
was galloping at his side, up hill and down dale, upon the very
prettiest pony that ever carried a young heiress ; and every hour
passed with her mother was so enjoyable, that she only wondered
how she could ever bear to leave her, even for a gallop ; for when
they were not talking together, or singing together, or drawing
together, they were both reading, at no great distance apart, in
the snug retreat afforded by the fine old library, where no chance
visitors were ever permitted to enter, and from the threshold of
which the magnificent master of the castle instinctively retreated,
as if conscious that there was some quality in its atmosphere de-
cidedly hostile to his constitution.
Different people would have doubtless passed different judg-
ments on the conduct of the baroness, respecting this reading
portion of Gertrude's education, had her system been made known.
"What was coarse and gross, was so repugnant to her own feelings,
that she would no more have permitted anything of this nature
to come in her daughter's way, than she would have suffered
poison to be mixed with her food; but she rather wished to
encourage, than restrain the perusal of whatever argumentative
works excited her interest, being deeply persuaded that teeth
will make its way to the mind, wherever free discussion is per-
mitted between herself and the blundering falsehoods by which
she is perpetually assailed.
Madame de Schwanbcrg's idea on the subject was, that with a
fair field, and no favour, there was no more danger that truth
should be conquered in the strife, than that a six-foot grenadier
should be overthrown by Tom Thumb.
She had herself read much more widely and deeply than the
majority of her sex, and her opinions upon many points still con-
tested by mankind, were as firmly held as they were carefully
formed ; but she recognised no law which, in her opinion, could
justify her insisting upon her daughter's adopting her opinions ;
and Gertrude was in a fair way of profiting as largely by the
baron's polite liberality in the constant purchase of books, as her
mother had been before her.
But this is forestalling ; for there arc events of her childhood
to be recorded, which occurred before the liberality of her parents,
JA3IILY rEIDE. 23
cither in money or mind, enabled her to cater for herself in this
particular.
It would be doing great injustice to the parternal feelings of
the Baron von Schwanbcrg to deny, that however constant ho
might be in theory, to his preference for a male heir, he had
become, in practice, to be most fervently attached to his little
daughter ; and there was no page in the history of his countiy,
that he now dwelt upon with so much pleasure, as that which
recorded the greatness of Mahia Teeesa. In short, if he had not
changed his mind upon the superiority of a son to a daughter, he
had, in a great degree, forgot to think about it ; and in contem-
plating the beauty, the vivacity, and the high spirit of his heiress,
he could find no room in his heart for any feelings but love and
admiration.
Eut, of all her accomplishments, he was decidedly most vain of
her horsemanship. He was never weary of pointing out to all
who would listen to him, the undaunted courage displayed by the
little girl, when she accompanied him in the chase ; and he be-
lieved, as firmly as that the earth was created by God, that the
noble daring she displayed was derived from the untainted blood
of her long descended line of ancestors.
Such being his feelings on the subject, it may easily be sup-
posed that he lost no opportunity of exhibiting her beauty, and
her fearlessness on horseback, whenever he indulged his more
aristocratic neighbours, by inviting them to hunt upon his land ;
and as the baroness had the most perfect confidence in the know-
ledge and discretion of her husband in all matters appertaining
to the chase (the more perfect, perhaps, because unmixed with
any suspicion of his superiority on any other subject); no objection
was ever raised, on her part, to her daughter's sharing in a
pastime which she enjoyed with quite as much fervour as the baron
himself.
It happened soon after she had passed her twelfth birthday,
that a grand hunt was proposed, in a direction not very frequently
taken by the baron and his sporting friends, on account of the
intervention of a stream that was not always easily fordable. Eut
the young baroness having previously, with her father at her
bridle-rein, tried her pony very successfully at the spot where
they intended to cross, the party was arranged, and a gayer field
had never been assembled at Schloss Schwanberg than that which
left it upon this occasion. The weather was delicious. Every
thing seemed to smile upon them j but, alas! "malignant J'ate
sat by, and smiled" too.
o>
24 gertei'De; ot^,
It certainly was a very prolty sight ; anil the gay, blooming,
fearless little Gertrude, making her spirited little pony pace dain-
tily along, close to her father's horse, was not the least attractive
part of the spectacle.
After about an hour's riding, they reached the spot where they
were to cross ; and it was arranged between the baron and his
friends, that they, and the servants, should all precede him and
his precious charge, to prevent the possibility of fiightening the
pony by the unwonted sound of splashing hoofs behind him.
They all made the passage without the slightest difficulty, the
steep descent down the high bank beneath which the little river
ran, being by far the greatest impediment to their progress. But
Gertrude was far too good a horse-woman to mind this ; and
gathering up her reins in as scientific a manner as it was possible
for the little hand to achieve, she reached the border of the
stream as safely, and as gracefully too, as if she had been riding
across her father's lawn.
"IS'ow then, Gertrude," said the baron, *'put him to it. Let
him step in."
Gertrude paused but a moment to gather up her long riding-
dress, and obeyed. For the first few paces the little animal seemed
to find no difficulty, and made none, but stepped as steadily
forward as if conscious of the important duty he had to perfoim,
and the necessity of being more than usually careful.
The sheltering projection of the steep bank which they had
just descended, so efi'ectually impeded the current at the point
where the road entered it, that its waters ran almost without a
ripple ; but having passed this shelter, Gertrude's little steed
stopped short, and neighed to his brethren who had preceded him,
as if to consult them concerning his progress.
It is true that he had crossed at the same ford before, and had
made no difficulty about it; but whether the largeness of the party
of which he now made one had shaken his nerves, or that the
stream ran deeper in consequence of more recent, or more abundant
rain ; in short, whatever the cause, he not only stood still, but
shewed very evident symptoms of being frightened.
Kot so his high-spirited young reader. I>ut if ignorance is
bliss, it is not safety. It was evident that the pony was more
aware of the real state of the case than Gertrude, or she would
have patted him gently, and waited for her fathei', who followed
her at the distance of a few feet ; but instead of this, she gave
her little favourite the sharpest touch of her whip that she had
ever bestowed upon him, and in order to obey it, he made so
FAMILY PEIDE. 25
great an effort tliat lie was immediately taken off his feet, and
the terrified baron had the misery of seeing his heiress floating
down the stream, very evidently against her will. That it was
against the pony's will also, was equally evident ; for though the
action of his head and neck very plainly showed that he was
endeavouring to ohey the rein which Gertrude still held steadily
in her hand, he was unable to do it. Her father's first impulse
was to follow her ; but the powerful animal on which he was
mounted had no intention of swimming, and strode resolutely
onward to the bank, Avhich the rest of the party had reached,
without heeding either the heel or the hand of his rider.
Meanwhile, more than one of the sportsmen who had crossed,
turned their horses' heads down the stream, in the hope of find-
ing some point at which they might dash into the river, and by
heading the pony and seizing his rein, be enabled to rescue the
precious burden he was so evidently carrying to destruction.
Eut this plan was more easily formed than executed. The bank
on the side which the advanced i^arty had reached rose rapidly,
and the swimming pony had already passed the last point at
which those who wished to rescue the young girl could possibly
have reached the stream.
At this terrible moment, when the thought had occurred to
more than one of the party, that it was not the classic Tiber
only which was destined to roll its waves over youth and beauty ;
it was it this terrible moment that the slight figure of a young
lad was seen on the side of the river which they had just quitted,
running with the swiftness of an antelope to some point Avhich
evidently he was desperately purposed to reach ; and he had
already outstripped the swimming pony, when he was seen to turn
suddenly to a projecting ledge which overhung the river, and
then hastily unclasping his belt, and divesting himself of the
loose garment which would have impeded his purpose, he took a.
vigorous forward spring, which brought him within a few feet of
the advancing pony and his helpless burden.
After this plunge, the bold boy was for a moment lost to sight,
and more than one of the gasping spectators of this frightful
scene exclaimed, " He is gone ! "
He was not gone far, however, for, though he had sunk to a
perilous depth beneath the surface of the water, he speedily rose
again, and vigorously seizing the falling girl with his left arm,
he swam Avith her, by the help of the right, to a little pebbly
cove on the same side of the stream which he had just quitted,
and the next moment she was lying, not dry, certainly, but high
26 GERTRUDE; OS,
cnoiigli aTjove tlic water to insui'C licr for tlie present from any
clanger of being drowned.
The scene which followed may he easily imagined. ICot only
the half-dead and half-bewildered father immediately set himself
to discover the readiest mode of joining the dripping pair, who
appeared lying side by side, and equally motionless, on the beach,
but every individual of the party — masters and men — were
evidently intent on the same object.
It took not long to decide what was to be done.
In the next moment the whole group were galloping back to
the ferry, which they recrossed as rapidly as was consistent with
their recently-acquired knowledge of its danger ; and in a few
minutes afterwards they reached a point of the cliff, down which
they scrambled with no gi-eat difEculty, having dismounted, and
consigned their steeds to the care of their servants ; and then
they very speedily reached the object of their anxiety.
Poor Gertrude was perfectly insensible, and for a few terrible
moments her miserable father believed she was dead. But more
than one of his truly- sympathizing companions, though not a
little flurried by the scene they had witnessed, were, neverthe-
less, sutfi-cicntly in possession of their senses to perceive that the
adventiu-e, perilous as it unquestionably had been, was not likely
to end in so tragical a manner.
As there was no one present likely to quote Shakspeare, and
exclaim, "Too much of water hast thou" — a very sensible
individual of the party ventured to try the experiment of apply-
ing a little more ; and as he did this very judiciously, by dashing
from a drinking-horn, which he carried in his pocket, a pretty
copious libation of the fluid in her face, it proved to be, like
many other things, both bane and antidote, according to the
mode of its application, for the beautiful eyes of the young
Gertrude immediately opened at its startling touch.
She first breathed a somewhat sobbing sigh, and then looked
about her, very much as if she wanted to find out where she was,
and not at all as if she intended to die before she had satisfied
herself on this point.
There were several stout-hearted gentlemen present upon that
occasion, who were heard to declare more than once, in the course
of their subsequent lines, that they never should forget the
countenance of the Baron von Schwanberg at the moment he first
perceived that his daughter was alive.
Of all the party present, he had perhaps been the only one
who had even for a moment hopelessly and completely believed
PAillLY rEIDE. 27
that slio was dead ; and his agony nndcr this conviction had been
terrible to witness. His heavy, haughty, hut very handsome
face, had assumed a sort of livid paleness, which it was frightful
to look at ; and the features had such an expression of misery,
so fixed and immovable, that he looked as if turned to stone.
The transition from this condition to the full conviction that he
still possessed the precious heiress bestowed on him by Heaven
(expressly for the piu'pose of proving the absurdity of the Salique
law), produced an effect which, for an instant, seemed to over-
power him, and he caught hold of the branch of a neighbouiing
tree, to prevent himself from falling ; but, in the next, he was
sufiiciently recovered to be on his knees beside his treasure ; and
it certainly must have have been a hard heart which could have
witnessed the embrace which followed, without emotion.
I have not, perhaps, on the whole described the Earon von
Schwanberg in very agreeable colours; but, dull as he might
have been on some points, he was not dull enough to be insensible
to the immensity of the obligation which he owed to the poor boy
who had saved his daughter's life, and who was still lying on
the bank beside her, very nearly as pale as herself ; for he had
dislocated his ankle while dragging the young lady to land,
among the unsteady pebbles and stones of which the river, some-
times a very powerful stream, had thrown up a tolerably steep
ridge.
With one aim still clasped round his daughter, he employed
the other in trying to raise the pale lad, who certainly did not
at first give any very certain indications that his own life might
not be the sacrifice he was doomed to pay for having preserved
that of another ; but, though in great pain from his ankle, he
was neither dead nor insensible, and was soon sufficiently re-
covered to reply to the questions kindly, and even anxiously, put
to him by the baron, as to the distance to his home, and the best
way of conveying him thither.
The brave boy's reply to the first question was agreeable to
the noble questioner in more ways than one, for it conveyed the
information that he was the nephew of a priest well known in
the neighboui'hood, and that a short cut across the country would
speedily bring him to the good man's home, which, for the pre-
sent, was his own also, as well as that of his mother, who was
sister to the worthy and much-respected ecclesiastic.
" I am glad to hear it, with all my heart!" exclaimed the
baron, with great energy. "Your uncle shall become my con-
fessor in the place of old father Ambrose, who has grown too infirm
28 GEETErDE; OE,
to come to the castle, and too deaf to hear me confess. He shall
be pensioned, and yonr uncle shall be promoted ; and so shall
yon, too, my young hero, you may take the Baron von Schwan-
ber2;'s word for that."
And then followed a consultation among the numerous group
wliich Avas now assembled round them, as to the best method of
conveying the lamed boy to his home ; and as it became j)erfectly
evident, upon his attempting to stand, that he was totally in-
capable of walking, it was speedily decided that the carriage,
which was already sent for to convey the uninjured but dripping
Gertrude, should convey her preserver to the castle likewise;
while another domestic was dispatched to the TJnterthal dwelling
of the priest, to infonn both him and his sister that the young
Ptupcrt was safe, and that both of them would be welcome at the
Schloss Schwanberg, if they would come thither to visit liim.
There might be traced in the well-pleased tone in which the
baron said this, a self- approving consciousness that the invitation
thus given must necessarily be so highly gratifying to the persons
to whom it was addressed, as to be almost of itself a fitting
reward for the service it was intended to acknowledge.
But the Baron von Schwanberg was no niggard either in his
gratitude or in the manner in which it was his intention to show
it; and having paused for a moment after pronouncing these
flattering words, he added, in a tone that had a good deal of
solemnity in its earnestness, ''Xor will their welcome to the
castle of Schwanberg be the only proof given by its lord of his
gratitude for, and his admiration of, the high coui'age and the
noble impulse by which the life of his heiress has been preserved."
The pale-faced hero of the adventure, for pale he still was, and
still suffering considerable pain, contrived nevertheless, to smile
as he replied, with a disclaiming shake of the head, "There is
nobody in the world, I believe, my Lord Baron, who would
not have done just the same thing, if he had happened to have
been by."
" It is well and highly becoming that you should say so, my
good boy," returned the baron, with a gracious nod; "but it
would be quite the reverse of this, if I could either tliink or sav
so."
The boldest rider and the best mounted of his train, had
already been sent back to the castle by its master, to order the
countess's coach to be instantly prepared, and brought with all
possible speed to the spot where the accident had happened.
"And, for (j<a:s love ! bring back a bottle of brandy or wine
FAMILY PRIDE. 29
with you," screamed a ready-witted indiyidual of the party, who
having turned his eyes towards the yonng hero of the adventure,
when he replied to the baron in the manner above-mentioned,
perceived that he was either fainting or dying, and very consider-
ately uttered this injunction as the surest way of rescuing the
sutler er from both.
CHAPTEE V.
It certainly was not the intention of the baron, when he thus
hurricdlj^ dismissed his messenger, that his lady should be made
to suffer still gTcater, or, at the least, more lasting, misery than
he had endured himself from the accident ; but such was the
result of the unmitigated clamour which rang throughout t^ie
castle, within a few moments after the summons for the carriage
arrived at it.
Either the evident urgency of the case, or their habitual promp-
titude in obeying the commands of the baron, produced such
instant obedience to his message, that the carriage was fortunately
already on its way to the spot where it was so eagerly waited for,
before the alarming report of the adventure had reached the un-
conscious mother in the quiet, and somewhat remote retreat of
her library.
But her respite lasted no longer, for scarcely had the equipage
rattled oif over the moated entrance, when her own personal
attendant, followed by the steward of the household, and the
portly housekeeper, all rushed into her presence together, ex-
claiming in very discordant chorus: " Eor mercy's sake, don't
alarm yourself, madam ! "
" It will all end in nothing, you may depend upon it ! "
"These things are always made the very most, and worst of,
my lady !"
"For Heaven's sake, tell me what you are all talking about,"
cried the bewildered lady ; " is the castle on lire ? "
" Xo, my lady, no ! God forbid ! Such a noble castle as this !
The Arhole body of saints and martp's that lie in the chapel clois-
ters yonder would rise to put it out, my lady, if it was so," said
30 geeteude; oe,
the old steward, who was renowned for his exemplary piety, and
who now, taking courage from the dignity of his office, and his
long service, approached the lady's reading-desk, and bent him-
self down with a sort of protecting air over the back of her
chair.
She turned suddenly round to him, but ere she could pronounce
the inquiry which was upon her lips, her waiting-woman had
dropped on her knees before her and began chafing her hands as if
she had been in a fit, while the old housekeeper stood by, in an
attitude very eloquently expressive of woe, with the corner of her
handkerchief in her eye.
It was certainly scarcely possible that all this could go on
without suggesting, as it was intended to do, the idea of some-
thing very terrible, which is the usual mode, I believe, of
preparing people for the disclosure of some great calamity ; the
reasoning in such cases being, that it is better that people should
suspect something worse than the worst, at first, in order that
when they know the real truth, it may bring with it a feeling of
relief.
Whether such sufi'ering can ever be really beneficial, may be
doubted ; but in the case of poor Madame de Schwanberg, it was
very decidedly the reverse, for her daughter being now always the
first object of her thoughts, the idea immediately suggested by
the moaning around her was, that she had been thrown from her
horse, and was killed !
''My daughter is dead !" she exclaimed, and having distinctly
uttered these fearful words, she uttered a piercing shriek, and
fell back in her chair as pale and as motionless as a corpse.
It was in vain that the three raven messengers now screamed
in chorus: "ITo! J^o! ^o! not dead, my lady!" She heard
them not ; and although she had moved her limbs, and once or
twice partially opened her eyes, she was still nearly insensible,
when the carriage conveying the hero and heroine of the adventure
retured to the castle.
On entering the hall, Gertrude, who, excepting the injury done
to her pretty riding- di^ess, was not in the least degree the worse
for it, stood for a moment irresolute as to whether she should run
first to embrace her dear mamma, and wish her joy of still having
a troublesome daughter; or fly to the housekeeper's room, to order
that a bed should immediately be prepared for the young hero who
had saved her.
It was much to her honour that she decided upon the latter,
fur strong was her longing to embrapc that dear mamma, and
FAMILY PEIDE. 31
Tvituess her happiness at having her safe at home again. But the
selfish thought was speedily dismissed; one glance at the pale
face of her preserver, as the servants assisted him from the car-
riage, being quite sufficient both to decide and accelerate her
movements.
Eut her active gratitude "svas of no avail, for it was in vain she
sought the important functionary at her usual post; and not find-
ing her, she at once decided that "mamma" was the properest
person to say what was immediately to he done in order to obtain
for the poor sufierer the relief of lying down, with as little delay
as possible.
Though the distance from the housekeeper's domain to the
library, was much more considerable than the inhabitants of our
degenerate mansions are accustomed to tread, in passing from one
part of a house to another, the space was rapidly traversed by
Gertrude ; but the feeling of thankful happiness with which she
was about to throw herself into her mother's arms was chansred
to terror, when, on entering the room, she beheld her mother
stretched upon a sofa as pale as a corpse, with her eyes closed,
and giving no sign of life save deep-drawn sighs, every one of
which seemed to be a gasping efi'ort to recover breath.
The servants, who still stood trembling around her, hardly
knew whether she was conscious of their presence or not, for she
had not spoken since the fii'st heart-broken exclamation which
she had uttered upon being told that she was "not to alarm
herself."
Deadly pale as were her cheeks and lips, however, she was not
insensible, for no sooner had the voice of her child pronounced
the words "i\Iamma! dear, darling mamma!" than the closed
eyes opened, and the seemingly helpless arms raised to receive
her.
"Is it about me, mamma?" cried the frightened girl, kneeling
down beside her. " Did the people tell you I was hurt, mamma ?
It was very, very wrong of them if they did, for I am not hurt,
not the least bit in the world ; but nE is hurt ! The dear, brave
boy that saved my life, without thinking for a moment about his
own !" And then the eager girl, addi^essiug the group of servants
who still hung round her mother, as if they were performing
thereby a most important duty, she added : "I tried to find one,
or all of you, even before I came here, that you might get a bed
ready, if only for him to die in ! Oh ! I wish you had seen him,
mamma!" she continued, while tears of gratitude started to her
eyes. "He seemed to think no more of his own danger, when
32 . GEETErDEJ OE,
he sprang into the water to save mc, than if he had been already
as immortal as an angel."
"Go, go, good Agatha!" cried the barones?, who seemed
restored to life as if by miracle ; ' ' and you too, Hans, go both of
you, and see that everything is provided for this boy — this bene-
factor. And tell him — tell him that I would come to him myself,
but that my dear chipping girl must be attended to."
The two servants she addressed obeyed her command with all
possible celerity ; for, in truth, they were as curious, as obedient,
and as eager to wait upon this wonderful young hero, and to hear
all that was to be known about him, as their mistress could be
that he should be taken care of.
But no sooner was this duty of dismissing them on their eiTand
jjerfonned, than transferring a portion of the attention she had
been bestowing upon her daughter's bright face, to her dripping
garments, she almost relapsed into terror for her life, when she
became aware of their condition.
She rose from the sofa, from which, a few minutes before, her
attendants had doubted if she would ever rise again, and offering
her arm to her radiant daughter as if her steps wanted support,
prepared to lead her from the room, exclaiming, in the very
extremity of eager haste, ''Oh, Gertrude! Gertrude! why did
you not tell me that you were in this condition ? It may be tlic
death of her still, Teresa!"
'' It will be the death of you first, my lady," cried the terrified
abigail ; " you that have been lying here senseless for an hour or
more, to be starting up in this way ! Let me alone for taking care
of the young baroness. Come along, my dear!"
Teresa was an old servant, and a privileged person upon most
occasions, and might now have said whatever she chose without
the least danger of being chid; but as to preventing the re-
suscitated baroness from attending Gertrude to her room, she
might as well have attempted to make Gertrude herself turn
pale.
The trio, therefore, sought the young lady's dressing-room
together, and nothing certainly could be less like sickness or
sorrow, than the aspect of both mother and daughter, when they
were startled by a knock at the door.
Teresa immediately opened it, in obedience to a sign from her
mistress ; and to the astonishment of them all, they beheld the
stately master of the castle standing before it.
Xow the castle of Schwanberg was a very large castle, and
the apartments allotted to the difterent members of the family
rAiriLY TEIDE. 33
vrcTC not only perfectly distinct, but at a considerable distance
from each other.
It might be for this reason, perhaps, that the baron, who was
not only a very ceremonious, but (except on horseback) a very
unlocomotive person, had rarely, or never been seen before on
the spot where he now presented himself.
If Gertrude had been a little more inconvenienced by her
accident, or if her lady-mother had been a little less thoroughly
recovered from her false alarm, the effect of this very unexpected
visit would have been less remarkable.
But the poor baron had, with his own eyes, beheld his darling
daughter and heiress in such real, and very near danger of death,
that he had himself by no means recovered from the shock, and
the sight of the mother and daughter sportively engaged in con-
templating the condition of the drenched garments, nay, positively
laughing heartily at some of Teresa's tragic exclamations as she
gazed upon them, so astonished, and in truth, so shocked him,
that he dropped into the nearest chair with a look of absolute
dismay.
The baroness saw how matters stood in a moment ; and know-
ing that it would be impossible to make him gay, she might
awaken him to a feeling of happiness, she turned from her laugh-
ing girl, and laying her hand kindly on her husband's ann, said
to him, with a very sweet smile, " Gertrude is wild with joy at
her own escape, and the sight of my happiness."
"I would rather see her grateful than wild for her escape,"
replied the baron, very solemnly; "and though, of course, I
cannot but rejoice at finding her so perfectly recovered, I should
have been better pleased if she appeared to think more seriously
of the danger she has escaped."
*'Do not suspect her of ingTatitude for this great mercy; and
do not suspect me of it, either," replied the baroness, while very
pious tears rushed to her eyes, as she raised them in gratitude to
Heaven.
"Of coui'se, wife, of course!" returned the baron, crossing
himself. "God forbid that I should suspect either of you of
impiety ! A proper service will be perfoimed with as little delay
as possible in the chapel of the castle to return thanks for the
special interference of Providence in my favour, nor can I for a
moment doubt, that you will both of you join in this service with
feelings of devotion becoming the occasion. Eut the gratitude
to which I allude is of a different kind. The young lad who so
bravely endangered his own life for the purpose of saving that of
4
3-1 GEETKrDE; OB,
my daiiglitcr, is now siifFering, under llie slielter of my roof,
from the effects of the perilous effort which he made to ensure
her safety ; and ha'sdng already had my mind set at ease by the
report of my daughter's safety, I have taken the liberty, wife, of
seeking you here, for the purpose of stating to you my opinion,
that the condition of this suffering boy well deserves and (con-
sidering the cause of it) demands some sort of hospitable attention
on your part."
It must be confessed that it was a very rare thing for the
baron's harangues to produce so great an effect upon those who
listened to him, as on the present occasion. Both the mother
and daughter were sincerely shocked and repentant, at thinking
that one to whom they owed so much, should have been for a
moment forgotten ; and the baroness hesitated not to leave her
daughter to the care of Teresa, and the consequential individual
who had formerly officiated as nurse to the young lady, and who
had now joined the party in Gertrude's bed-room.
It was impossible for the baron to feel otherwise than satisfied
on perceiving the effect he had produced ; and it was, therefore,
very nearly in his most gracious and condescending manner that
he now presented his ann to his lady, in order to conduct her, as
in duty bound, to the chamber of their suffering guest.
Nothing could have been more fortunate for the young hero
of the adventure, than this fancied superiority of noble feeling
and amiable conduct on the part of the baron ; for it at once
caused him to identify the lad with hi^x^oelf as one party, while
his thoughtless young daughter, and her seeming ungrateful
mother, formed another. This was of itself quite enough for a
man so intensely vain as the Earon von Schwanberg, in order to
make everything concerning the boy, a matter of interest to him.
It is quite certain, that his marriage with the high-minded
woman who had been given to him by her family for his wife,
had been as little a souix-e of happiness to him, as to her. To
comprehend, or understand her chaiacter and qualities, was
beyond the scope of his ability ; but some faculty, apparently
approaching to instinct, produced a very disagreeable sort of
vague conviction on his mind that she was, in some way or other,
above him. This feeling would have been more painful still, if
his vanity had not taken refuge in the constant recollection of
his lady's high birth, which being, undeniably, still more illus-
trious than his own, accounted very naturally, and almost satis-
factorily, for the sort of involuntary deference which he paid her.
J3ut now it was quite evident that in nobleness of character he
TAMILY rRIDE. 35
was her siipcrior; for had ho not himself stood for several
mimites by the young stranger's bed, in order to be snre that ho
■was placed safely in it, -while the heedless mother of the heiress
whose life had been saved by the yonng stranger's valonr, was
childishly at play with her daughter in the most distant part of
the castle !
Nevertheless, he was generous enough to abstain from uttering
a word more of reproach on the subject; contenting himseK by
observing, in a very solemn tone, as, with a very solemn step, he
led her to the chamber of the sufferer, that *'he trusted the
humble station of the individual they were about to visit would
be forgotten, or excused, in consideration of the immense blessing
which Providence had ordained that he should bestow on the
house of Schwanberg."
It is impossible to deny, that the lady to whom this harangue
was addressed, had taught herself to hear the pompous platitudes
of her lord without permitting them to interfere gTcatly with the
course of her, probably, very distant thoughts ; and she was now
so occupied by the important question which had just arisen in
her mind, as to the possibility of Gertrude's having taken cold,
that when his speech was ended, which happened just as they
arrived at the door of the boy's room, she replied, ''Oh, certainly,"
in so very careless a tone, that the baron breathed a silent vow,
as he turned the lock, that this unnatural indifference on the
the part of his wife, should be atoned for on his, in a way that
should do his grateful feelings justice in the eyes both of God
and man.
Notwithstanding her momentary oblivion, however, of the
errand she was upon, there was nothing like ingratitude in the
heart of the baroness ; and even if there had been, it would have
given place to a very contrary feeling, the moment she beheld
the suffering boy who had saved the life of her child.
The paleness which had been the first visible effect of the pain
he had suffered from the injury he had received, had now given
place to the bright hectic of fever. The least experienced eye
could hardly fail to perceive, at the first glance, that the fervent
glow of his cheek, and the preternatural brightness of his eye,
were the result of suffering, and not of health ; yet, nevertheless,
the first feeling of Madame de Schwanberg, as she looked at him,
was that of unmixed admiration. She thought she had never
beheld such perfect beauty before ; and perhaps she was right';
for lovely as her own daughter certainly was, the face which she
now saw before her, was lovelier still. The forehead was large
' 4 2
36 geeteijde; oe,
and beantifully formed, and the dark eyebrows were of the form
which best helps expression, without being themselves a too con-
spicuous feature. The nose, mouth, and chin might have fur-
nished a precious model to a statuary who wished to emulate the
type of Greece, without the sort of exaggerated regularity which,
except in a few rare instances, destroys the expression of great
intelligence. The rich natural curls of his dark hair were in
what could not fail, from their beauty, to be " admired disorder ;"
but, nerertheless, they had been so wildly handled by the feveiish
hand which supported his head, that the eifect was painful, for
his whole aspect suggested the idea of incipient delirium.
The first effect that his appearance produced on the lady of
the castle was, as before stated, admiration ; biit a moment's
contemplation of it produced alarm, and her first words were ex-
pressive neither of gratitude nor welcome ; for she only said,
with hasty abruptness, "I hope, baron, that you have sent some
one for Dr. Mcper ! "
The baron was positively both shocked and angiy. ** AVhat a
reception to give the youthful hero who had saved her child ! "
were the words he muttered, as he turned his head away from
the offending lady.
" Do you fear infection, madam ? " was the reply he made to
her ; and it was spoken in a tone of so much contempt, that she
really hoped for a moment that her fears were absurd ; and she
answered, with something like a smile, '* Oh, no ! " but then
added, " I really scarcely know what I fear ; but I am of opinion,
baron, that medical advice will be necessary."
This certainly was said without any smile; but so strongly
persuaded was the baron that no one but himself had sufficient
feeling and discernment united, to be aware of the boy's real
condition, that he still thought she was speaking ironically ; and
it was really with a very awful frown that he replied, " I believe,
madam, that the best thing you can do, is to return to your
daughter ; concerning her condition I have no anxiety, ha^-ing
accompanied her home in the carriage, enjoying thereby the great
happiness of perceiving that she was never in better health and
spirits in her life. I shall, as I have alreadj^ said, take care that
a proper service, at which you will, of course, assist, shall be
performed in the chapel, as an acknowledgment to the Virgin for
her special care of our child. As for this youth, I will at present
trouble you no more concerning him. He would, doubtless, be
more interesting if ho were of higher birth, but, nevertheless, I
feel myself, as "the head of a noble house, bound to testify, by
FAMILY PEIDE. 37
every means in my power, my thankfulness for the service ho
has rendered it. Give yourself no trouble Tvhatever about him.
I will take care that he shall neither want medical aid, nor any-
thing else that can be of use to him."
The experienced baroness plainly perceived, by the stately
manner in which this speech was delivered, that her noble hus-
band was in one of his magnificent paroxysms, though what it
meant on the present occasion she was at a loss to conjecture ;
but at that moment she was too much occupied to care about it,
and gently replying, that she quite agreed with him as to the
necessity of immediately sending to the neighbouring town foi
their medical attendant, she has hastened from the room, eagei
to consult her old housekeeper, who was the most experienced
person in the family, as to the real state of the poor boy, and the
best manner of treating him before the doctor arrived.
The baron, meanwhile, was exceedingly relieved by her
absence. Like all slow-minded people, he adhered very perti-
naciously to an idea, when once he had got hold of it ; and he
was now brimful of the comfortable persuasion, that his noble
nature had enabled him to conquer, as if by miracle, all the
ordinary feelings of the high rank to which he belonged, in
order to prove his devoted love to his child, and his feeling of
gratitude to the humble being who had saved her.
Had he taken it into his head that his lady had displayed
these feelings instead of himself, his conduct towards his young
benefactor would have had assumed a very different colour.
As far as the boy was concerned, nothing could be more for-
tunate than this delusion ; for, being as obstinate as he was short-
sighted, the baron never for a moment lost sight of the idea that
the family pride of his wife had caused her to treat him with
great ingratitude ; and the amiable contrast to this, which his
own conduct exhibited, was not only a source of the most satis-
factory self-applause to the last hour of his existence, but insured
the continuance of his favour to the boy, with the most steadfast
and unwearying constancy.
CHAPTER YI.
The baroness, notwithstanding her sincere anxiety for Rupert
Odenthal, saw no reason why it should detain her any longer
38 GEETErDE; OE,
from the greatly-longed-for presence of her dangliter ; and it was
to her room, therefore, that she summoned the venerable Agatha,
in order to consult with her as to what it would be best to do
for the suffering boy before the doctor arrived.
On re-entering Gertrude's apartment, she found the young lady
still on the bed, in obedience to orders, but looking as well and
as gay as if she had never sat upon a swimming horse in her life.
''How is he, mamma?" were her first words, as her mother
approached her.
" I really know not how to answer you, my dear child," re-
plied the baroness, ''for you father seems to think that it is his
own special duty to take care of him. This is very kind and
grateful on his part, and I should be sorry to check it by any
interference of mine ; but, nevertheless, I feel very anxious about
the boy, who seems to have a great deal of fever."
"Then, send for the doctor, mamma, at once," replied Ger-
trude, promptly.
"Your father has promised to do so," returned her mother;
" and, in the meantime, I have sent for old Agatha to come
here, that I may hold a consultation with her as to what we had
better do for him, before Dr. ISTieper arrives."
This important Agatha soon made her appearance, and, in
reply to her lady's question as to what she thought of the boy ?
she replied, without a moment's hesitation :
" I think he is very ill, indeed, my lady."
Gertrude burst into tears.
" Do you mean to say that you think he will die, Agatha? "
she exclaimed in great agitation. "I would rather die myself,
mamma ; I do really think I would. As long as I live, I shall
always feel that I have killed him ! "
"Don't take on in that way, my dear young lady," said the
housekeeper. " I did not say — did I ? — that I thought he must
die. I do certainly think, however, that he has a great deal of
fever."
"But we have many drugs that check fever, Agatha," replied
the lady. " You are a very good doctor yourself, and I am sure
5'ou can give him something cooling before Dr. jSTieper arrives."
" But I can't set the broken bone — if it be broken — my lady ;
and the fever won't stop till that has been done," returned
Agatha.
"Is the baron still in the boy's room?" said Madame de
Schwanbcrg.
"I can't say for certain; but I have very little doubt of it,"
FAMILY rr.TDE. 3 'J
replied the old woman, "\^-itli a queer sort of smile. ''^^lustrr
ahvays likes to be Xiimber One in every v/av, and auont eveiv-
tiling, when he chooses to meddle at all. And every word he
says about the boy shows that he thinks it a part of his greatnc-ss,
like, to take the whole management of him upon himself. IJut:
I'll go and see if I can be useful, my Indy. It won't bo like
your ladyship's going."
Perhaps Gertrude did not quite understand the old woman's
meaning, but the baroness did. She made no commentary upon
it, however, but dismissed the sagacious housekeeper with a silent
nod, being very much in earnest in her determination that no
interference of hers should check her noble husband's intention
of proving himself the most generous of men.
It was for some hours, however, a very doubtful question
whether all these magnificent projects of showing to the whole
world how great a man's gratitude could be, would not be defeated
by the speedy death of the individual who was to be the object
of it.
The distance to the doctor's dwelling was considerable, and
the doctor's pony not fleet ; but at length, however, they both
arrived at the castle, and it was the baron himself who ushered
the astonished Dr. Xieper into the patient's room.
The baron, too, very clearly perceived the impression pro-
duced by this extraordinary condescension on his part, and, on
reaching the chamber of the invalid, paused for a moment before
he opened the door, and said :
"I can easily believe, my good friend, that my accompanying
you to the sick-bed of an individual of the rank to which your
patient belongs must surprise you. Eut, in my estimation, Dr.
Nieper, gratitude in noble minds should never be in just pro-
portion to the obligation received ; and the father of the heiress
of Schwanberg will prove to the whole world that, in his esti-
mation, the humble youth who saved her life is worthy even of
such attention as I am paying him now. Of coui'se, my good
sir, a fitting service will be performed in the chapel of the castle,
that, in like manner, my gratitude to heaven also may be made
manifest to the eyes of all men."
Having at length concluded this speech (which the baron's
slow enunciation rendered rather long), he opened the door, and
placing himself at the bottom of the bed (at each side of which a
female domestic was seated), made a sign to the doctor to
approach. A very short examination sufhced to enlighten tlie
the practitioner upon the state of his patient ; the ankle was dis-
40 geeteude; oe',
located, and the drive Tvliich had folloAvcd had placed the injured
limb in so fatiguing a position as greatly to increase the intlam-
niation.
Fortunately, Dr. Kicpcr \ras no bungler, and the painful
operation necessary upon such an accident Avas performed without
loss of time, and with very considerable skill ; but, nevertheless,
the boy fainted under it, and when restored to animation, he was
perfectly delirious, and manifested every symptom of fever.
As the baron (who, with all his pride, was far from being a
hard-hearted man) had left the room during the operation, and
only returned to it upon being informed that it had been very suc-
cessfully performed, he was both shocked and surprised at finding
the boy talking incoherently, so much so, indeed, as to make
him break off in the speech, which he had began to utter as he
entered, concerning his purpose of having a special service per-
formed in the chapel of the castle, etcetera.
He was, in fact, exceedingly alarmed, and began to fear that
the first duty which would devolve upon the boy's uncle, upon
his promotion to the post of confessor at Schloss Schwauberg,
would be to administer the last sacraments to his unfortunate
nephew.
The noble gentleman, in fact, looked so completely dismayed,
that Dr. iS^ieper Avas induced to give him assurances, somewhat
more undoubting, perhaps, than his own opinion, that his patient
was likely to do well.
*' It may, nevertheless, be right, my Lord Earon," he added,
" that the boy's relatives, if he has any, should be informed of
his condition ; for, in cases of this kind, where fever supervenes
so violently as it seems inclined to do here, no practitioner in the
world can be sure of the result. Does your lordship happen to
know anything of his family ?"
''Providentially, I do ! " replied the baron, solemnly. ''His
uncle is a priest, and lives with this boy's mother, who is his
sister, at the distance, I believe, of a mile or two."
" Then let them be informed of the accident immediately,"
returned the doctor; "it is certainly very proper that they
should be sent for."
" Your suggestion, doctor, is the echo of my own thoughts.
They shall be summoned immediately. Alas ! it had been my
intention to summon the priest without delay, in order that he
might commence the duties of the place to which I meant to
promote him, by performing in the chapel of the castle the special
service which it was my intention."
FAMILY TEIDE. 41
" And if I were you, my Lord Earon, I should include his
raotlier in my invitation," said the doctor, rather abruptly inter-
rupting him ; '' for although these young women look very gentle
and kind, it would be much better, when his reason returns, that
he should not find himself surrounded by strange servants."
"Alas! alas!" replied the baron, very piteously; " I grieve
that it should be so ! Eut there are some minds, my good sir,
upon which the effect of conscious high rank is not exactly what
we might wish it to be. The Baroness von Schwanberg, born
Baroness von Wolkendorf, is a lady of very high rank ; and I
have certainly never seen her so deeply and strongly influenced
by the remembrance of this, as since your suffering patient was
brought to the castle. I will not dwell upon the circumstances
which have occurred, and which have all tended to prove her
averseness to take any personal interest in the fate of one so
much beneath her in station. I will not, I say, dwell upon this,
farther than to remark, that I trust my own conduct gives suffi-
cient eAidence of the much deeper impression which this poor
boy's courageous conduct, and subsequent suffering, has produced
on my own mind. Nevertheless, I flatter myself, doctor, that I
have never shown mj'self unconscious of, or indiflerent to, the
dignity of the position in which, by the will of Providence, I am
placed. I will, indeed, venture to say, that the baroness herself
cannot be more deeply impressed by the consciousness of her own
dignified station than I am, or of that in which I and my high-
born daughter stand likewise. Nevertheless, I am of opinion,
that on such an occasion as the present, an occasion which, I
conceive, calls for the performance of an especial service in
the ."
" Nothing can be more clear and satisfactory, my Lord Baron,
than your view of the case, which I comprehend perfectly, with-
out your condescending to explain it farther," said the doctor ;
who, with his eye fixed upon his patient, had perceived sundry
twitches indicative of pain and restlessness, and not feeling quite
certain that the sonorous voice of the baron had much to recom-
mend it, by way of a soothing lullaby, he ventured to apply a
little of his professional courage to stop it.
The lord of the castle looked more startled and astonished,
than angry; and thereupon the clever doctor, laying his head
upon his own hand, shut up his eyes, and slightly snored, where-
upon every trace of suspicion, or surprise either, vanished from
the magnate's countenance ; and making sundry pantomimic
signs of intelligence, he walked out of the room with as little
42 CERTErDE ; or.,
noise as a very stately barou, who did not tread very liglitly,
coTild contrive to do.
The poor boy, however, was neither sleeping, nor likely to
sleep, as the worthy doctor well knew, for^he was evidently still
in pain, and very feverish ; and althongh these symptoms were
too inevitable, after what had happened, cither to sm-prise or
alarm him, he felt anxions to preserve him from snch weighty
annoyance as the presence of his host was sure to bring with
it.
The two attending damsels who had been stationed beside the
Dcd by the baron's orders, and who had left the room on his
entering it, now returned, and stood before Dr. Xieper, waiting
with great docility for his commands. The first he gave was to
the younger of the two, signifying his wish that she should seek
her mistress, and inform her that he desired to see her before he
left the castle ; adding, that, with her permission, he would
immediately wait upon her. He then gave instructions to the
other, to prepare some cooling beverage, which she was to keep
ready at hand, and administer freely to the patient.
In order to obey this command, it was necessary that the
person who received it should apioly to the house-keeper; and
while the woman went in search of her, the doctor took her
place by the bed-side, awaiting the summons which he hoped to
receive from the baroness.
As this intelligent mediciner had long been the professional
attendant in ordinary of the Yon Schwanberg family, he had
placed but little faith on the baron's statement respecting the
feelings of his lady towards the suffering boy ; but nevertheless
he was rather surprised to see her accompany the messenger he
had sent to her, into the room of his patient, and that so
promptly, as to prove that she had lost not a moment in seeking
him.
She gave a hasty glance round the room on entering; and
having ascertained that the baron was no longer there, she
stepped gently to the bed-side, and after gazing earnestly for a
moment on the fevered face of the patient, she turned a sorrowing,
anxious look to the physician, who then stood beside her, and
whispered the words, " Does he sleep ?"
Dr. ^ieper shook his head, and taking the hand which she had
extended to him in friendly salutation, he led her to a distant
part of the room, and forestalled her question by saying, "I
flatter myself, madam, that he is not in danger. AVorse accidents
are, at his age, often met with sufficient strength to render
FAMILY PEIDE. 43
recovery from tliem au easy mat cor. The dislocation of tlie ancle,
however, is the least part of the mischief. His sufferings, pro-
bably from being in a constrained attitude in the carriage during
liis return, have brought on a very considerable degree of fever ;
but if he is properly attended to, and kept perfectly quiet, I
dare say vre shall conquer it. I should be sorry to lose such a
patient as that," he added, turning towards the bed; *'I think,
madam, that, excepting your own, and your daughter's, it is the
most beautiful countenance I ever saw."
"I could readily forgive you, doctor," replied the lady, ''even
if you had omitted the polite exception ; for most assuredly I
never saw, either in the glass, or out of it, any face which, in my
estimation, can compare Avith it in beauty. God grant that he
may do well ! You must take care to be very clear and very
explicit in the orders you leave about him, for the baron does not
seem to approve my attending upon him myself, which I do
assiu'e you I should wish to do ; and we all know, that however
much we may rely on the fidelity of ser\'ants, we can trust
nothing to their judgment."
"The baron seems to think, madam — " began Dr. jSTieper in
reply. Eut, for some reason or other, he deemed it best not to
finish the speech he had begun; for he abruptly added — " Do you
know, madam, if the boy has any mother within reach?"
"Yes, indeed! my housekeeper told me that his mother is
living at Francberg with her brother, a very worthy priest, known
by the name of Father Alaric."
" Francberg ?" repeated the doctor, in an accent of considerable
satisfaction; "Francberg is at no great distance; a man and
horse might get there in an hour, if they kept to the bridle path.
The carriage road is considerably longer. Let me recommend you,
dear lady, to send to the house of Father Alaric immediately ;
and order your messenger to tell both the mother and uncle of
this poor boy, that it would be desirable that they should, one or
both, come to him immediately. ^N'othing should be more care-
fully avoided than letting our patient find himself, upon fully
recovering his senses, in the midst of strangers. It might produce
a very alarming return of delirium."
"I am quite aware of it," replied the baroness, earnestly.
" But I should greatly Avish that you should state your opinion
on this subject to the baron himself."
" I will do so instantly," he replied; "and in my judgment,
it will be better that you, madam, should not remain in this
room. The servant now sitticg by him may administer all the
44 geetefde; oe,
assistance he wants, till his own mother arrives to wait on him —
and it may, perhaps, accord better, on the whole, with the baron's
wishes."
It is probable that there is no class of men, seek for them in
what conutry you will, who form, individually, such correct
judgments respecting their fellow-creatures (mentally as well as
physically) as those who attend them in a medical capacity.
The power of the priesthood in this respect is nothing in com-
parison to it.
For even if we take a penitent at the last gasp, terror may
almost involuntarily give a false colouring to his disclosures. Eut
in a sick room, there is always, to an acute observer, a great
facility given to the discovery of truth, not only as to the state
of the invalid, but likewise as to the mental condition of those
around him.
Dr. Meper had been the medical attendant in ordinary at
Schloss Schwanberg for more years than its present lady had
been known there ; he knew its master well ; and the pompous
harangues in which he indulged, were as familiar to him as
was the sound of the sonorous monster bell which announced
the arrival of all comers.
His lady, on the other hand, was not only blessed with that
excellent gift in woman — a gentle voice, but she was habitually,
especially on matters of business, a succinct, rather than a ver-
bose, speaker ; and the value accorded respectively to their words
by the doctor, might be fairly compared to that given to a huge
copper penny-piece, and a tiny golden half-sovereign.
In reply to this gentle hint respecting the ''baron's wishes,"
she said nothing, but she made a slight movement with her head ;
and thereupon it was as well understood between them, that the
baron was to make as much fuss as he liked, without let or
hindrance of any kind, and that everj'thing required for the com-
fort of the boy, should be furnished without any fuss at all — as
if they had discussed the subject for an hour.
The positive commands of the baron, aided by the persuasive
urgency of his lady, caused the messenger dispatched for Father
Ahiric to perform his errand both fleetly and featly ; but it was
not till about half-an-hour after he had set off, that the slow-
paced baron was made to recollect, that although the messenger
he had sent was well mounted, tliose he had been sent to
summon, were not likely to be mounted at all, and might there-
fore be some hours before they could reach the castle.
How strictly the baroness thought it best to adhere to her
FA3IILY miDE. 45
resolution of not interfering in any way, Tvas proved by her
making no observation on the subject of tlieir conveyance; and
she only learnt the fact of its having been omitted, by Gertrude
asking, " What carriage had been sent ?"
Fortunately, however, the baron had thought fit to repeat his
visit to his daughter's room soon after the messenger had been
dispatched; and almost the first words she uttered after he
entered, were, "You are a dear, good papa, for sending for the
poor boy's parents ! AYhat carriage have you sent for them ? ISTot
the great coach, I hope, it will be so long coming!"
"Carriage! my dear child! Mercy on me! I never thought
about a carriage. His uncle is only a village priest, my love, and
his mother is of the same modest class. I don't suppose they ever
rode in a coach in their lives, Gertrude ! "
"But what difference does that make, papa? They can't fly
like the birds, you know, though they do not keep a coach. And
if you do not send some carriage for them, it is quite clear that
they won't be here to-night. And do just think, papa, what a
dreadful thing it would be for me, if I were ill, instead of this
dear, good boy, and had to wait hours, and hours, and hours,
before I could see mamma!"
"My noble-hearted Gertrude!" exclaimed the baron, with
great energy; "how exactly your generous feelings answer to
my own ! I was to blame in not coming to you before I dis-
patched my messenger. But in my haste to serve these poor
people, I positively forgot what it was most essential to remem-
ber ! Excuse my leaving you so abruptly, my dear girl ; but you,
at least, are aware, if nobody else is, that it is, and ought to be,
my first object at this moment to obtain every assistance and
comfort for the young hero who hazarded his own life to preserve
that of my daughter."
There was just enough emphasis in the pronunciation of the
word my, as might suggest the idea, that if the person saved had
been any other man's daughter, the saving part of the adventure
might not have taken place ; and a sort of half glance from the
saucy bright eyes of Gertrude towards her mother, might have
been received by a less discreet person, as a commentary upon it.
But upon this occasion, as upon many similar ones, the baroness
appeared to be rather short, or, perhaps, dim-sighted, for no
glance whatever was vouchsafed in return.
It is not improbable, that the baron might have lingered some
time longer at the bed-side of this important daughter, (for he
certainly felt inclined to dilate a little upon various points of his
46 geeteude; oe,
OTTii conduct, all tending to prove that he -^as the most generous,
as TTcll as the most noble of men,) had not Gertrude sent him off
by clapping her hands, and exclaiming, " Go ! go ! go ! my dear,
darling, noble baron of a papa, or these poor, dear belongings of
your hero will be stniggling about the road in the dark, before
the carriage can reach them."
The baron obeyed in a moment, as, to say the truth, he
was very apt to do, when the will of his daughter was made
known to him by her own irresistible lips. He only lingered at
the door for one moment, to say, *'If anything could add to my
happiness in witnessing your present safety, my beloved child, it
would be, the perceiving that your high-born spirit is in exact
accordance with my own, in the feelings of gratitude due to your
preserver I"
For about a minute after the door closed upon him, there was
silence between the mother and daughter ; and this, also, was apt
to occur when the grandiose lord of the castle disappeared from
before them, after having pronounced one of those high-sounding
harangues which it was his delight to utter, and which it might
have been somewhat amusing to them to hear, had not a sense of
propriety, or, perhaps, even a feeling of duty, checked the mirth
of both.
It generally happened, however, after one of these decbrous
pauses, that the next words exchanged between them were of a
purport, and in a tone, which might justify a laugh ; and so it
was now; for Gertrude broke the silence by exclaiming, as she
half sat, and half lay upon her bed :
'* What a joke it is, mamma, to see me lying here, as if I too
had dislocated a limb ! AYill you please to give me leave to get
up ? And will you please to give my respects to Madam Agatha,
and tell her, when she makes her next visit, that I only got up,
because I could not lie any longer in bed?"
And without waiting for an answer, the wilful young lady
was upon her feet in a moment, and, investing the said little feet
in the silken slippers which stood in waiting for them, began
frolicking about the room in a style that gave very satisfactory
proof that she, at least, was not at all the worse for the morning's
adventure.
PA^IILY rilTDS. 47
CIIAPTEP. YII.
The day was by tliis time drawing to its close, but tlicrc was
still an hour of good driving light left, and tlio mother and
daughter began to speculate upon the probability that the
carriage might return before the hour at which the baroness
usually retired to rest.
''I shall not like to go to bed, Gertrude, till I see the mother
of this dear boy sitting beside him," said she.
"And I shall not like to go to bed to-night till you do,
mamma," replied the young lady, with somewhat of the accent
of spoilt-child pertinacity.
But Gertrude was only partially spoilt, not thoroughly; the
spoiling stopped short of the heart, though the head sometimes
showed symptoms of giddiness from it ; and when, upon the
present occasion, she saw her mother looking pale and harassed,
upon her reiterating her wish to remain watching, she instantly
changed her tone, and said, "Don't look so grave, dearest
mamma ! I am ready to go to bed again this moment, if you
wish it."
It was therefore alone that the very anxious baroness awaited
the return of the carriage. The baron's noble feelings kept him
in very unusual activity till his usual hour of retiring to rest;
but having eaten his supper, and inhaled the last breath of his
beloved pipe, he announced to his lady that it was his intention
to retire to his own apartment.
"Of course, my dear, you will retii'e to yours," he added.
" I have given orders that several servants shall remain up
all night, or, at least, till the carriage returns with the relatives
of the heroic boy who has insured my gratitude for life ; and the
gi-atitude of Yon Schwanberg can neither slumber nor sleep,
whatever his eyes may do. But I mean not for a moment to
insinuate that I wish for any watchfulness on your part. On the
contrary, I rather wish to make it evident that the gi'atitude of
the Baron von Schwanberg is sufficient, without the aid of any
other human being, to repay whatever obligations may have been,
or can be, bestowed upon him. Good night, my dear lady ! Good
night!"
The obedient baroness returned the salutation, and retired.
Gertrude had already been fast asleep for an hour or two ; and
48 GEETErDE; OE,
when at Icngtli Teresa, in obedience to her instructions, gave her
mistress notice that the haron's personal attendant had left him
snoring ; she qnickly took her way to the sick boy's bed-side, and
having dismissed the watchers, who by the baron's orders Avere
lianging about him — retaining only her faithful Agatha as her
comi^anion — she prepared to pass the hours which might yet in-
tervene before the arrival of his mother, in watching his feverish
slumbers, and administering the medicines which had been pre-
pared by Dr. I^iepcr for his use.
I^otwithstandiug the promptitude with which the suggestion of
Gertrude had been obeyed, night had ceased to be at odds with
morning before the carriage returned. For the roads of the
short cut, which had been ventured upon by the coachman, had
never been intended, in their best days, for the accommodation of
so dignified a visitor as a four-wheelecl carriage ; and they were
now so much the worse for the wear, that the frightened pair, in
whose honour it was sent, had to trust to their feet more than
once in the course of their trc'ijety in order to save their bones from
the danger of an overturn.
It was not much past three in the morning, however, when
the equipage and its anxious passengers arrived at Schloss
Schwanberg.
^Notwithstanding the sleepy propensities which generally pre-
vail at that hour, there were enough watchers ready to conduct
the expected guests to the chamber where they were so impatient
to be.
The baroness, who had been much too anxious for their arrival,
to have enjoyed any repose deserving the names of sleep, heard
the approach of the carriage, and was standing outside the door
of the sick boy's room, as Ihe priest and his sister reached it._
The baroness, being wrapped in a very simj)le white dressing-
gown, with her usual night-gear on her head, suggested no idea
to her visitors, as she extended a welcoming hand to each, but
that of a sweetly kind-looking attendant, who was attentively
awaiting their arrival, with friendly anxiety, but without weari-
ness or impatience. Their addi-ess to her, therefore, was perfectly
unrestrained and unceremonious. " How is he ?" said the priest,
fixing his mild, anxious eyes upon her face.
And, "Is he alive?" said the pale mother, with an almost
convulsive pressure of the hand that welcomed her.
" More quiet. Much more quiet,"' replied the baroness, at once
perceiving, and rejoicing at their mistake; for the wearisome
parade of her proud husband, had for years made her rank a
FA^IILY rrjDE. 49
burtlien to her, and it was a positive relief to be thus addressed
as a woman, and not as a sovereign ^^ Lady Baroness.^^ And those
whispered words, accompanied by a kindly return of the pressure
her own hand had received, were followed by her saying, ''ISTow
you are come to bless his eyes whenever he opens them, I feel
confident, quite confident, that all will go well."
The trio then entered the room together, and the effect of the
first glance exchanged between the mother and the son was very
painful, for it was quite evident that he did not know her.
As the fact that the poor boy had become delirious was already
known by every one who had approached him for many hours
past, there was nothing in this which could justify the increased
alarm which seemed to seize upon the baroness and her servants ;
but the agony of the mother, at finding herself stared at by him
as a stranger, was so great, that it was impossible to witness
it without sympathy; and not only the gentle Madame de
Schwanberg herself, but her handmaids also, were soon weeping
for company.
As for the good priest, though he had certainly visited more
sick beds than his companions, and might therefore be expected
to witness even this most painful symptom of fever with more
philosophy, he seemed as much overpowered as the rest ; and
when he kneeled down, and took from his bosom the well-worn
book from whence he was wont to draw the doctrines of resigna-
tion and hope, his tears flowed so abundantly, that he could
scarcely articulate.
Till now, the hopeful opinion which Dr. Nieper had given of
the boy's case, had so effectually sustained the spirits of those
who were left in attendance on him, that the notion of his dying
had scarcely occurred to any of them after he had uttered it ; for
his judgment was held in high estimation at Schloss Schwanberg ;
but now all favourable predictions were forgotten, and there was
no one present, who did not begin to think that they were watch-
ing at the bed of death. The feelings of the baroness were not
only those of a woman, but of a mother ; and the true sympathy
with which she beheld the intense misery of the unhappy Madame
Odenthal, produced so violent an effect upon her, that Teresa,
who was beside her, and who had been terrified by the condition
to which their alarm for Gertrude had reduced her in the morn-
ing, very properly used a little gentle violence to make her leave
the room. It may be doubted, however, whether the remon-
strances of her waiting- woman would have proved so effective,
if the experienced old housekeeper had not whispered in her ear,
5
50 GEEirxDE; on,
*' l-Iy master will be so vexed if he finds that you are here ! He
•will be sure to know all about it, if you stay longer."
Ihe only reply of the baroness was a very slight nod, but she
remained no longer in the room than was necessary for the
arranging that every comfort and accommodation possible, under
the circumstances, should be provided for her sorrowing guests ;
and when this was accomplished, she again took the hands of
Madame Odenthal in her own, and having repeated the assurance
she had before given, that the doctor would be with them by the
break of- day, she pressed the poor woman's forehead with her
lips, and left her.
"Who is that sweet, kind-looking woman?" said IMadame
Odenthal, to one of the servants, as soon as the baroness had left
the room.
*' Woman!" repeated the housemaid, with a look of dismay;
*' that is the Baroness von Schwanberg, the lady of the castle."
" The baroness ? The lady of the castle ? " repeated the good
woman, with a look of dismay. ''Oh dear! oh dear! what
dreadful falsehoods people do tell ! All the country round says,
that though they are good and charitable, they are too proud to
be spoken to. A\Tiy, if she was as poor as I am, she could not
be more kind and gentle ; and yet it is the saying of the whole
country, that they are the very proudest."
"Pooh! pooh! old lady, you are talking nonsense," said the
sagacious Agatha. " There can only be one at a time, you kuow,
that is the very proudest — and my lady is not that one, you may
take my word for it."
As the Prau Odenthal was by no means a stupid woman, it is
very possible that she might guess who the individual v\'as, who
had a right, in this matter, to be honoured with the superlative
degree. She was much too discreet, however, to ask any further
questions, but quietly sat herself down beside tbe bed on which
her son lay, but with a curtain between them ; for she thought,
and, perhaps, with reason, that though it was evident he did not
know her, yet there was a sort of restless, painful, puzzled look
in his eye, when it met hers, which seemed to indicate that
though not recognised as his mother, she was not wliolly for-
gotten, and that her presence, if he were conscious of it, might
disturb, though it could not soothe him.
The priest, meauAvhile, as is usual, I believe, with all the pro-
fessional individuals of his communion, selected as convenient "a
corner as might be for the purpose of kneeling down ; but in no
outward respect does the reformed church diiier more essentially
FAMILY miDE. 51
from the iini'eformed than in such moments as these. It is
difficult while "svatching a Eoman priest under such circum-
stances, to believe that his thoughts even accompany, still less
that they inspire, the words he mutters; and, if it be otherwise,
who is there that will venture to deny that such service is a
dangerous mockery? ISTevertheless, Father Alaric was a very
worthy man ; and, if he " prayed the gods amiss," it was the fault
of his teaching and not of his character.
The hours which followed till the day broke, and the doctor
arrived, were as miserable for all the parties concerned as such
hours always must be. Anxiety and weariness possessed them
wholly, though not exactly in equal proportions throughout the
group.
The baron was habitually an early riser, but, upon this
occasion, he quitted his room a full hour before his usual time ;
for having learned that the mother and uncle of the boy had
arrived during the night, and also that Dr. I^ieper was expected
at daybreak, he was steadfastly determined, as it was well
possible for a gentleman to be, that his noble sense of the service
which had been rendered him should be made manifest to every-
body in the most striking manner possible.
And, assuredly, the doctor was a good deal surprised upon
entering the sick boy's room, to find that he had been preceded
by this high and mighty personage.
Eut his emotion upon this unexpected occurrence was as
nothing when compared to that experienced by Eather Alaric
and his sister.
The great object of the Baron von Schwanberg's life had been
to impress the whole country round with an idea of his greatness;
nor had these unceasing eftorts been in vain, for he was not only
considered the greatest man in the neighbourhood, but as being
probably one of the greatest in the empire — the Kaiser and his
race excepted. AYhen, therefore, his tall person, his brocaded
dressing-gown, his embroidered cap, and his velvet slippers
entered the room where the sick boy lay, the effect he produced
was everything he could desire.
The sleepy priest, who had been sitting humbly on a low
straw chair, with his head resting on the back of another, started
to his feet with a degree of agility which persons of his profession
are seldom seen to exhibit ; and, crossing his hands reverently
upon his breast, bowed low his head, with a look that had more
of veneration in it, than of mere respect from one man to another;
but he did not venture to utter a syllable.
5—2
52 geetetjde; or,
The imwearpng mother, who was still bending over her child,
and soothing herself with the idea that he breathed more tran-
quilly, raised her eyes as the door opened, and beheld the over-
powering spectacle with a degi'ee of emotion that caused her pale
cheek to become crimson.
The two female servants who had been commanded by the
baron to remain in the room, started from their respective atti-
tudes of repose, and looked very considerably startled by this
unexpected apparition. Eut the almost awful emotions caused
by it were speedily relieved by the entrance of Dr. Kieper, who
followed him into the room ; for the baron had timed his visit
well, assisted by the obedient watchfulness of his valet, and
mounted the stairs as the doctor dismounted from his horse.
ISTothing could be more satisfactory than the scene which
followed, for, in addition to the fervent expressions of gratitude
uttered by the priest and his sister, who seemed to have recovered
their senses in some degree upon the entrance of the physician,
the doctor himseK joined the chorus of praise and admiration,
saying :
*' Upon my word, my Lord Earon, your conduct has been as
noble as your name, and that is saying a good deal for it. But,
truly, your contriving to get these good people here, notwith-
standing the distance and the darkness, has been most kind and
most considerate. And now, my Lord Baron," he added, *'I
believe that I may ventui'e to pronounce the words which your
kindness will make the most welcome to you. This brave boy
here is now very healthily asleep, and, I venture to predict, that,
when he wakes, his delirium will have left him, and that he will
be in a state to join his friends in returning thanks to you for
the great kindness which has been shown to him."
The baron, upon this, bent his head forward, very nearly an
inch from the perpendicular, and, with a charming mixture of
condecension and dignity, replied :
*' I should be unworthy the name I bear, my good doctor, had
I done less : nor shall I be satisfied till I have done much more.
I should be grieved if it could be supposed by any one throughout
the whole district in which I live, that my gratitude for the pre-
servation of my daughter and heiress should not prove such as to
influence the destiny of this brave youth through life. I have
decided, in my own mind, that reference shall be distinctly made
to him in the service which I shall order to be performed in the
chapel of the castle, and,"
''Hush! — please hush!" whispered the mother of this
FAMILY PEIDE. 63
highly-favoured individual; ''I think, doctor, he is going to
wake ! "
'' "Well, good woman, and if he does, there is no harm in that,"
replied the doctor, cheerily. ^' I want him to wake. I want to
see if he knows you."
" He did not know me when I spoke to him only a very few
minutes before he went to sleep," she replied, in a whisper;
" and I thought it only disturbed him when he looked at me."
"That is very likely: but I have got his pulse under my
thumb, you see ; and if he fairly wakes up, I will bet a florin he
knows you now."
A very few minutes proved the doctor to be right. Eupert
Odenthal did fairly wake up, and immediately gave the most
decisive proof that he recognized his mother ; for he placed his
hand in hers, and, in a minute or two, relapsed into cj^uiet sleep
again.
CHAPTER YIIL
The recovery of the boy from the effects of the accident was
both rapid and complete ; and if the Baron von Schwanberg had
been of an inconsistent character, which he really was not, he
would have scarcely found time to change all the generous pro-
jects he had formed in his favour-, before the boy was in a con-
dition to profit by them.
Having, however, exhibited his magnanimous condescension
in the remarkable manner recounted in the last chapter, he did
not appear to deem it necessary that the future favours he meant
to bestow should be accompanied by any similar excess of per-
sonal familiarity.
His pledged word was most faithfully redeemed by the special
introduction of his name into the service, etc. etc. etc. — which
was performed as an act of thanksgiving in the chapel ; moreover,
the whole adventure was at full length recorded on a marble
tablet erected in the vestibule of the said chapel. JS'either did
he forget his promise of providing a comfortable retreat for his
venerable confessor, Father Ambrose, and of appointing Father
Alaric to the ofSce in his stead.
54 geetbttde; oe,
But when all this was done, his daughter, Gertrude, said to
him one day, in her pretty spoilt-child manner, *' You are a dear,
good papa, for caring so much, and doing so much, all about me.
But you have not yet told us what you mean to do for poor
Eupert himself. I am not going to complain about what you
have done for his dear, darling of a mother, for I really do think
that she is the most "
'' The most what ? My dearest love ! " said her father, gazing
at her according to custom, as if he were in presence of an oracle.
'' Why, really I don't know what to call it," replied Gertrude,
laughing; ''the most hugable, and kissable dear soul in the
world ; that is what I mean, I believe. And as to your new
confessor, Father Alaric, if you were to make him an archbishop,
or a cardinal, I should think it very right and proper ; but you
know, papa, after all, the real truth is, that it was Eupert who
jumped into the river to pick me up ; and therefore I do think
you should give him something beside physic, and that is all he
has had, as yet, to reward him."
To say the truth, it would have been a difficult matter for
Gertrude to say anything which her father did not think the
very cleverest thing that ever was said under the circumstances ;
and it is no wonder, therefore, that the speech above quoted,
appeared to him so admii^able, that he almost thought it was
uttered from a species of inspiration.
" It is a very remarkable thing," he said to his lady, the next
time he found himself tete-a-tete with her; " a very remarkable
thing, that so young a girl as Gertrude, should never give her
opinion on any subject, without displaying a degree of judgment
which might, and must, make most full-grown people feel them-
selves her inferiors. I mean, of course, her inferiors in ability ;
her inferiors in station, most persons must, unavoidably, be. She
has just been speaking to me of her obligations to the poor boy,
Eupert Odenthal, and hee obligations are, of coiu'se, :m:y obli-
gations, also. And yet, excepting that I commanded his name
to be mentioned in the special service which I caused to be per-
formed in the chapel of the castle, she is perfectly right in stating,
that as yet, the whole of our efforts towards remuneration have
been confined, as far as the boy himself is concerned, to obtaining
the necessary medical assistance for him. How has it happened,
baroness, that this has escaped your observation ? There was an
acuteness wonderfully beyond her years in the remark, that the
only reward which he has hitherto received for the immense
obligation he has laid upon us, has been in the shape of physic !"
FA^iIILY PRIDE. * 55
The wcll-discipliuccl baroness did not laugli ; she did not even
smile ; in truth, she had pretty effectiiallj' drilled herself into a
sj'stematic and constant avoidance of any such equivocal demon-
stration of the efiects of the baron's eloquence ; but she replied,
'' that she doubted not but that, sooner or later, some arrange-
ment would be made, which would properly remunerate the boy
for the service he had done them."
The baron kept his large dull eyes fixed upon her as she spoke,
and when she ceased, he uttered a deep groan.
After this, he paused for a moment, as if to collect his thoughts ;
and then he said, " You must forgive me if I express myself
both shocked, and surprised, at the cold indifference which you
display, madam, on a subject which is, in my estimation, the
most important that can by possibility be presented for our con-
sideration. Por it does not concern the demonstration of my
gi'atitude, the gratitude of the Earon von Schwanberg, for the
preservation of his only child and heiress? I implore you,
baroness, not to mistake me, and not to imagine for a moment
that I mean to reproach you. I can never forget, that you are
of the noble house of "VYolkendorf, or cease to remember, with
proper deference and respect, that you are also Baroness von
Schwanberg. But the difference in our characters and manner
of thinking, is too remarkable, not to produce often an emotion
approaching to wonder and astonishment. Happily, however,
this marked difference of character between us is not likely in
the least degree to lead to any mischievous result. Yoiu' prin-
ciples as a virtuous wife, and honourable lady, will, of course,
ever prevent you from interfering in any way that would trouble
or annoy me ; and it really seems like an especial blessing of
Providence, that our daughter, who is to be my successor here,
should, in all things, inherit the character, qualities, and opinions
of her father. On the subject of the noble-spirited youth who
has made us so deeply their debtors, I think it will be desirable
that we should have no farther discussion. It is evident, that
your feelings towards him are by no means in unison with those
of my daughter and myself ; but your daughter knows her duty
too well to utter to you anything that should be mistaken for a
remonstrance on the subject ; and you, on your side, will, I am
sure, consent to promise me, that you will not interfere in any
way with my intentions respecting him."
The baroness readily gave the promise rec|uired, and the more
readily, from her conviction, that Gertrude was not the least
likely to mistake her non-interference, for either indifference or
56 geetetde; oe,
ingratitude towards the individual to whom she certainly owed
her life.
HoAV matters might have gone on, however, if it had not
chanced, before the occurrence of the conversation above recited,
that Gertrude had overheard her mother and old Agatha discuss-
ing together theii* hopes, that the baron would make some per-
manent provision for the boy, it is impossible to say ; for, till the
young lady had made the pertinent remark above cited, re-
specting her hopes, that Eupert would have something beside
physic as his reward ; it is certain, that his being permitted to
remain with his mother in the house (probably, because he was
still too lame to walk out of it), had appeared to the lord of the
castle, to be the very perfection of the most generous and con-
descending hospitality.
But no sooner had the half -jocose remonstrance of his daughter
been uttered, than he determined, however playfully her reproach
had been spoken, that he would consider the matter seriously,
and that he would go as far beyond his daughter's grateful
wishes, as he had appeared hitherto to fall short of them. But,
as I have before stated, the baron was a slow man, as his only
reply to Gertrude's remonstrance, was in these words :
" You are as right on this subject, my dear child, as I hope
and expect my daughter ever will be on every subject, upon
which she may condescend to bestow her attention. I will
inform you, my dear Gertrude," he added, '' what my pui'pose is
respecting this very meritorious lad, as soon as I have had leisure
to consider all the circumstances of his position."
How much, or how little, this meant, Gertrude did not very
clearly understand ; and she therefore, as in all cases of doubt,
applied to her mother,
''Papa has been talking most royally about what he intends
doing for Eupert ; only he says, he must have more time to thiuk
about it. / think he ought to tell Father Alaric at once, what
he means to do about him. What do you think, mamma ? "
" T^^hy, to tell you the truth, Gertmde," replied the baroness,
'' I perfectly agree with your father, as to the necessity of taking
time to deliberate, before any particular destination for him is
proposed. He is only now just beginning to let me talk to him
as if he were not afraid to answer ; and till we can get him to
speak freely of himself, and his former pursuits, and future
hopes, I think it would be injudicious to propose any particular
career to him."
Gertrude looked in her mother's face, and laughed.
FAMILY TEIDE. 67
"'SMiat is there in what I have said," said the baroness,
smiling, " which api^ears to you so superlatively ridiculous ? "
*' Ridiculous ! " repeated Gertrude ; " my laugh was the laugh
of triumph, mamma, and not of ridicule."
** Explain," returned her mother ; " and then, perhaps, I may
enjoy a laugh, too."
''And so you ought," said Gertrude; "and it should he a
very thankful, happy laugh.. I was thinking, what a very clever
pair we must he ! Papa says, that everything / say is right ;
and I think everything 7/0 ic say is right. What lucky people we
are ! Eut when shall you begin to bestow some of your most
particular cleverness upon Eupert, in order to find out whether
he is most fit to be a priest like his uncle, or a soldier like his
father? His father, you know, mamma, was killed in battle."
" Ko, Gertrude, I did not know it. But there are more pro-
fessions and occupations than two. Perhaps I had better begin
by talking a little with his mother."
"Eight again, mamma! You ought to be called the wise
woman of Schwanberg Schloss. Hay I be present at the talk ?
Do you know, mamma, that if I see her often, I shall love that
sweet mother of his better than anybody in the whole world,
except yourself? There is not one of all the baronesses, and
countesses, or princesses either, that I have ever seen, that I like
one half quarter so well."
"There is something peculiarly pleasing in Madame Odenthal,"
replied the baroness, thoughtfully; "I, too, feel that I should
get very much attached to her, if she were to be much with me.
I am greatly inclined to believe that her education was befitting
a higher station than what she now holds. Il^ot that she ever
talks to me of the pursuits of her youth, or having been at all
different from what they are at present ; but nevertheless, there
is something in her language, as well as in her manner of
thinking, which leads me to suspect that she has been better
educated than her present station seems to account for."
" Then, of course, I am a marvellously clever person, mamma;
for I must have made the same discovery without being conscious
that I had made it," said Gertrude. "You laugh, mamma," she
continued, very gravely; "but I am quite in earnest. I have
thought again and again, quite to myself, as you know, — for if I
did not talk about it to you, I certainly should not talk about it
to anybody else, — but I have thought over and over again, when
I have been listening to the Fran Odenthal, that she did not talk
like the other people, who appear to be of the same rank, as far
58 GERTRUDE; OR,
as outward appearances go. Papa and I, you know, ride about
in all directions ; and though, he docs not seem to think it proper
to speak much to any people who live in cottages, that are not
npon the Schwanhcrg estate, he is constantly stopping to talk at
the doors of those who are. And very long talkings they are,
sometimes, for though his manner to them is very stiff, and
stately, he seems very much interested about them all; but I
never, in all these visitings, met with anybody at all like
Madame Odenthal."
''I quite agree with you, Gertrude," replied her mother ; "and
I am glad to hear you make the observation, though I don't think
it shews any marvellous cleverness, dearest, because the fact is so
obvious ; but, at least, it shews something like the power of dis-
crimination, which is always desirable. But is your cleverness
enough to make you aware, that our discovery adds gi^eatly to
our difficulties respecting the son of this mysterious Frau
Odenthal?"
'' JSTo, mamma, I don't see that, at all," was the reply. *' Why
should it be more difficult for papa to benefit the boy, because his
mother has been well educated?"
''If you were really very clever, I think you might guess,
Gertrude. You ride about, as you truly say, a great deal with
your papa, and I am quite sure that you must have been present
on many occasions when he has shewn himself able, as well as
willing, to assist his deserving tenants in the difficult matter of
disposing of their sons advantageously. Ko year passes in which
he does not benefit some of them in this way. Eut can you not
perceive, that he would find it much more difficult to do this, in
a case where the boy whom he wished to serve, had been brought
up by a mother whose education had enabled her to instruct her
son in a manner very likely to unfit him for any of the humbler
stations of life?"
"Yes, mamma, I do see it," was now her more grave reply.
"His uncle's profession is the only one, that I know of, in
which a good, or, at least, a somewhat learned education, is found
in so humble a state of life as that of Father Alaric," resumed
the baroness; "and I certainly am of opinion," she continued,
"that the obligation we are under to this boy, ought to be
rewarded by our j)lacing him in a more comfortable station of life,
than any which Father Alaric is likely to attain. Your father
might easily obtain for him a place as clerk, in some government
office ; but if he resembles his mother, such an appointment
would not satisfy my ideas of what wc ought to do for him."
FAMILY PEIDE. 59
The conversation between tlie mother and claugliter was inter-
rupted here by the arrival of a noble neighbour, who had driven
in state some half-dozen miles or more, in order to learn all par-
ticulars respecting the young baroness's perilous adventure, and
to offer congratulations for her providential escape, etc., etc., etc.
CHAPTER IX.
"WiTHix a day or two after the conversation had occurred
between the Baroness von Schwanberg and her daughter, which
has been recorded in the last chapter, it happened that the noble
lady, and the humble guests whose manners had formed the
subject of it, met accidentally in one of the alleys of the castle
garden.
Gertrude was enjoying, with her thrice-happy father, the first
gallop to which he had invited her since her accident ; for he had
deemed it necessary, or, at least, proper, that the pony should be
daily exercised for a fortnight after it had occiuTed, before the
young lady was again permitted to mount him, in order to
ascertain that he had not been taught to start by his misadven-
ture.
Poor Rupert, meanwhile, though quite recovered as to his
general health, was still too lame to walk beyond the limits of
his room, or, at least, of the floor on which he was lodged, for
the getting up and down stairs was still forbidden by Dr. Meper ;
and it was therefore in solitude that his mother availed herself of
the baroaess's permission, or rather invitation, to walk in the
beautiful pleasure grounds for which Schloss Schwanberg was
justly celebrated.
The salutation with which the baroness treated the Frau Oden-
thal, was as usual, full of kindness; and it was no feigned
interest, as to the state of Rupert's health, which gave so
soothing a tone to every question she asked concerning him. Rut
these enquiries being all satisfactorily answered, the grateful
mother of the boy stood aside, to make way for the onward
course of the lady of the castle ; but instead of passing Madame
Odenthal, the baroness turned, and putting her arm under that of
her modest vistior, she said, ''Let us walk together, my good
60 geetetjde; or,
friend. I am pretty sure that our thouglits hare often, at least,
one subject in common. Let us discuss it together. You will
easily guess that I allude to E-upert, and I will almost venture to
say, that you are not more occupied about his future plans than
I am. You must be aware, from what the baron has abeady
said, both to you and to him, that it is his piu'pose to remunerate
him (as far as such a service can be remunerated), for ha"\'ing
saved the life of our child, to say nothing of what he has suffered
since, himself, in consequence of his perilous enterprise."
''Indeed, madame," replied the Frau Odenthal, with great
sincerity, "I believe Eupert considers himself as very amply
rewarded akeady. Your condescending kindness to him, and the
delight he has had from the freedom with which you have per-
mitted me to fui'nish him with books, has made ' this period of
lameness,' as he says, 'the happiest portion of his life.' "
" Has he indeed said so ? " returned the baroness with anima-
tion. " Such a statement from him has a two-fold value. In the
first place, it is a great comfort to hear that he has not suffered
so heavily fi'om the restraint of his confinement, as I feared that
he must have done. And secondly, it is of far greater value still,
as furnishing a hint as to the choice of an occupation for his
future life. A boy of his age, Madame Odenthal, who can feel
that pain and confinement may be atoned for by reading, must
not be placed in any situation, where time and opportunity for
reading would be denied him."
"Alas! my dear lady," replied Madame Odenthal, "that
thought is no stranger to my mind. But it is, I am afraid, a
dangerous one for those to cherish, who must employ their hours
in such a manner as to obtain for themselves the necessaries of
life. I fear, that intellectual pleasures are among those which
must be set apart among the recreations of the rich."
"That is a question which will, I think, be more fully and
practically discussed in days to come, than it has been in days
past," said the baroness; "I have a great inclination to believe,
that if man was taught to make the best, and the most of his
faculties, ways and means might be discovered, by which the
action and development of his mind might assist, and not impede
his means for providing for the wants of his body. Eut this is
too wide a discussion for us to enter upon now."
In saying this, the baroness turned her eyes towards the face
of her companion, and could scarcely suppress a smile, as she
marked the expression of it.
The complexion of Madame Odenthal was, like that of her
FAMILY PETDE. 61
son, rather pale, than rnclcly, hut now the face Avas flushed ; her
lips were parted, as is generally the case when under the influence
of sui-prise ; and the dark eyes which met hers, said, as plainly
as eyes could speak, ''how came you to guess that I could com-
prehend you, if you did discuss it?"
But the four very intelligent eyes which encountered thus,
withdrew themselves as hy common consent from further ques-
tioning ; and after the pause of a moment, the baroness resumed,
"I am sure you will agree with me, Madame Odenthal, that it
will he impossible for us at the castle to make a judicious choice
of a profession for your son Eupert, unless we know more about
his character and past pursuits, than it is possible for us to acquire
by our own observation. How old is your son ?"
" He wants two months of fifteen," was the reply.
" How has he been educated ? Has he ever been at school ? "
demanded Madame de Schwanberg.
".jS'o, madam, never," said Madame Odenthal. "All the in-
struction he has received," she added, "has been from myself,
and his uncle."
There was again a short pause in the conversation, and then
the baroness said, "Has it ever occurred to you, that you should
wish him to adopt his uncle's profession ? "
As the baroness said this, she again turned her eyes towards
her companion ; and the dark eyes of her companion again en-
countered hers. It was but for a moment, however, and then
Madame Odenthal quietly replied, "jS^o, madame."
After another short silence, the baroness again resumed the
conversation, by saying, "The avocations of a priest must, I
should suppose, leave abundant time for reading."
" I do not know," replied the mother of Paipert; " women,"
she added, " however nearly related by blood to the ministers of
the Eoman Catholic religion, know but little respecting their
private studies."
"I was not aware of that," said the baroness; "none of my
ancestors have belonged to the profession, excepting one cardinal,
I believe, a century or two ago. But there certainly must be
many more hom^s in the life a priest which might be devoted to
study, than could be afl'orded in any other profession."
The arm upon which the baroness leant had a slight, a very
slight movement in it ; but the Erau Odenthal said nothing.
"Is yoiu' brother disposed to be a reading man?" said the
baroness.
"Father Alaric is only my half-brother," replied Madame
62 geeteude; oe,
Odentlial ; '' he is many years older than I am, and I know but
little about his private studies now, and still less respecting his
education."
'' He seems to be a very good, kind person," said the baroness.
"He is, indeed, very good and kind," replied the sister,
eagerly, and as if relieved from embarrassment by being able to
speak so cordially, and so completely, without restraint. "I
am quite aware," she resumed, "that our being with him must
be a heavy burthen upon him, for his professional income is very
small, and he has nothing else. Eut when my husband died —
my husband was a military man — an officer, and a brave one ;
but when he died, my boy and I were, literally, almost starving,
my little pension being scarcely more than sufficient to lodge and
clothe us; and though, by being a very good needlewoman, I
contrived to live, the kindness of my brother in offering us an
asylum in his little home, was, as you may believe, madam, most
gratefully accepted. Since that time, I have been my boy's only
instructor, for Father Alaric's parish is large, though but a poor
one ; and moreover, to say the truth, I believe it was less
troublesome to him to feed my boy, than it would have been to
instruct him. j\Iy brother Alaric is a good man ; good, because
he endeavours conscientiously to do what he believes to be right;
and to avoid doing what he believes to be wrong."
" If all men did so," replied the baroness, "the world would
go more smoothly for us all."
"I suppose so," retiu'ncd Madame Odenthal, meekly; "but
in order to make so conscientious a system of important utility,"
she added, " the judgment must be put into wholesome training.
If a man blunders between right and wrong, his conscience may
lead him to commit, instead of avoid, sin."
The baroness very nearly stood still, while, for a moment, she
again fixed her eyes on the face of her companion ; but she
gained nothing by doing so, for the eyes which she wished to look
into, were fixed upon the ground.
"Eut the priesthood takes this responsibility upon itself, I
believe," returned Madame de Schwanberg, after a short silence.
" Not in all lands," said Madame Odenthal ; adding almost in
a whisper, " my mother was an Englishwoman."
It would not be easy to describe the effect which these few
words produced on the lady of the castle. The history of her
own mind, of her long years of solitary reading, and solitary
thinking, must be given, in order to make such a disclosure in-
telligible. A very gentle pressure of the arm on which she
FAKILY PEIDE. 63
leaned, was the only reply made at that time to this avowal of
her new acquaintance; but the new acquaintance seemed, by
some sort of freemasomy, to understand its meaning, and to feel
sufficiently encouraged by it to add : —
" This will make you understand, madam, why it is that I
have never wished my son to adopt the profession of his uncle."
*' Yes," replied the baroness, " I understand it perfectly ; and
I am glad that you have had sufficient reliance on my discretion
to state this fact. Fear not that your confidence should be
abused. It is important, while considering the future prospects
of your son, that I should know what you have just confided to
me, but the knowledge of it need go no further. Is Father Alaric
aware that your son . Is he aware what your opinions are?"
"I hardly know, madanie," replied her companion; *' my
brother Alaric was a very sickly boy when his father married his
second wife ; and I have often heard from himself, as well as
from my father, that she was as kind to him as if he had been a
child of her own. Alaric, himself, is very kind-hearted, and
this behaviour in his step-mother naturally softens his heart
when speaking of her, and I never heard him make any unkind
reflections upon her creed. And then, it must be confessed, that
my brother Alaric is, both mentally and bodily, very indolent ;
and I really doubt, if he has, during the whole course of my life,
ever given one whole hour's thought as to what my opinions
really were. The father of Eupert was a soldier ; and it always
seemed to me, that as long as the rank and file of a regiment
went as regularly to mass as to parade, their officers were less
troubled by the priests, than most other people. I lost my dear
kind husband at a very early age ; and few people, brought up
as I have been in a Eoman Catholic countrv, have been so little
interfered with by the priests as myself. One reason for this
was, no doubt, my having a priest for my brother ; and when I
and my little boy took up our residence in his house, it was, of
course, supposed, by anybody who took the trouble of thinking
about us at all, that we wanted no other religious aid than what
he could give us."
The Baroness von Schwanberg listened to this statement, not
only in silence, but with great attention. Her answer, however,
was very bnef.
** I feel flattered," she said, ''by the confidence in my good
faith and discretion, which you have proved to me by the open-
ness of yoiu^ statement. Like you, Madame Odenthal, I have
been a licensed reader through life, and wherever this has been
64 GEMErDE; OE,
the case, the result will, in all probability, be, on some points,
very similar. We will not discuss any forbidden subjects to-
gether, because it is far more likely that danger and mischief
might be the result, than advantage to either of us. You will
easily believe, Avithout my dilating upon the subject, that what
you have now said to me must have increased my individual and
personal interest for your son. It is certainly possible, that this
feeling may have some influence on the future destiny of the boy;
but it is by no means certain that it should do so. From the
moment I learned that I owed my daughter's life to him, I have
felt very deeply that he had a claim both on my heart and my
justice, and what has now passed between us has certainly not
tended to diminish either. And now, for the present, farewell.
I hope I have not detained you from him too long."
It might be difficult to say, which of the two women who
then shook hands, and parted, was most surprised, and gratified,
by the unexpected confidence which had sprung up between
them.
CHAPTER X.
TnEEE was a good deal in the conversation above recited,
which was likely to awaken a lively interest in Madame de
Schwanberg, both for the mother of the boy whom she wished
to serve, as well as for himself.
The baron had frequently alluded, in his gi-andiosc style, to
his purpose of providing for Rupert Odenthal ; but all he had
said on the subject was so vague, that, excepting, as Gertrude
had truly observed, in the articles of physic, no very certain
conviction had reached Madame de Schwanberg' s mind that any
positive advantage would be the result.
But, as she knew also that if it actually happened that the
boy and his mother were permitted to walk off, with no benefit
more positive than the reiterated assurance of his generous inten-
tions, it would only be because nothing feasible had occurred to
him on the subject. She had long determined to tax her own
inventive powers for the purpose of hitting upon some expedient
by which the patronage of the great man of the castle might be
practically useful.
FAIMILY PPJDE. 65
Had the boy been half-a-dozen years older, it might have been
easy enough to place him in a farm upon the estate, on such terms
as might ensure its being beneficial to him, without having
recourse to the somewhat degrading alternative of offering him a
sum of money, as payment for having hazarded his life. Eut the
conversation which had now passed between the boy's mother and
the lady of the castle, had thrown a perfectly new light upon the
subject, and led to the suggestion of a proposal which seemed
likely to remove all difficulty at the present moment, and to
afford time, and perhaps opportunity also, for due consideration
of what might be done for him at a more advanced age.
The plan which she now thought of for him, was one which
might immediately be adopted, without any risk that the employ-
ment it would give should be too fatiguing to him, although the
injured limb had not yet fully recovered its strength.
The baroness, who had gone on increasing the already very
large library from the first year of her marriage to the present
day, had long felt the want of a librarian capable of classing and
arranging it, in such a way, as might save her the trouble and
fatigue of endeavouring to keep it in order, an undertaking which
it was, in fact, quite beyond her power to accomplish.
The strong appetite for reading which the invalid had evinced
during the tedious lameness which had resulted from his accident,
had suggested to her the idea that, young as he was, he might
very probably find himself sufficiently at home among books, to
be useful to her as a librarian ; and the neat handwriting dis-
played, in consequence of her having told him to write down the
title of any books he particularly wished to read, convinced her
that he might be profitably set to work upon an undertaking
which she had long wished to achieve, but had never yet found
courage to attempt. As far as her researches had reached, she
had been unable to find any trace of a catalogue, and the extent
of the collection was such as to render the want of it a constant
inconvenience. But this very obvious method of placing the boy
in a most desirable situation, without any trouble to the slow-
moving baron, was rejected almost as soon as conceived, from the
idea that the nephew and eleve of a Romish priest, might be as
much shocked, as astonished, if his reading habits should lead
him to examine all the books which she was in the habit of
adding to the venerable collection. But although the converstion
which has been just rehearsed as having taken place between the
baroness and the boy's mother, was much too vague to convey to
either any very decisive information respecting the religious
6
66 gertetjde; oe
, yj±X)
opinions of the other enough had passed to persuade the baroness
(who, like the rest of her sex, perhaps, was apt to jump to a
conclusion), that she should run no risk of being troubled by the
Inquisition, by permitting the young Rupert to set down in his
catalogue of the castle library, all the very fullest titles of the
books which she was constantly placing on its shelves.
What followed may be told in a very few words.
Gertrude was a very quick, intelligent child, and required
wonderfully little j)rompting on the present occasion. Nothing
could have less the appearance of a plot, than the manner in
which she said to her father, as she sat knitting beside him,
while he smoked his pipe, " I will tell you what you shall do for
Paipert, papa, besides giving him physic. You shall have him
here always in the house, to keep the library in proper order. I
am almost as fond of galloping over the books, as over the grass ;
but my dear pony does not make half so much confusion among
the flowers, as I do among the volumes. I don't think I am so
naughty about any thing, as I am about the books ; for when I
have got all I want out of one of them, I never can find out the
right place to put it in, and so, of course, the confusion goes on
getting worse and worse every day. And it is a great shame ! I
know that too, papa, for mamma says that quantities and quan-
tities of them have belonged to our grandee ancestors, since the
days of I^oah, I believe. ISTow if you will tell llupert that he is
not to go away at all, but to stay here, and keep your books in
order, everything will be right."
The baron looked at her with admiration and astonishment, and
for a moment or two appeared to be in deep meditation, for he
said nothing ; but he spoke at last, and then, as was very usual
with him, it was to express his admiration of her extraordinary
abilities.
"Gertrude!" he said, very solemnly; ''Gertrude, my dear,
you certainly are a very superior young lady. I ought not, how-
ever, either to express, or to feel any astonishment at this. You
ought, from the name you bear, to be a very superior person. I
do not suppose that there ever has been a descendant of the Yon
Schwanberg race, who has not been superior ; but yet, neverthe-
less, my dear daughter, I will not deny that I never remark in
you any of the superior qualities for which our name is celebrated,
without feeling a very strong sensation of pride and pleasure. It
is impossible, my dear, not to perceive, in the words which you
have just spoken, a very striking proof of the superiority to
which I allude. It consists — " And here the baron paused for a
FAMILY PBJDE. 67
moment, to take breath. Whenever this happened, Gertrude
never failed to take advantage of it; for, to say the truth, these
long harangues about her own superiority, had long become ex-
ceedingly fatiguing to her. She was much too sharjD-witted noi
to perceive that there was so little mixture of truth in the view
he took of her, and her qualities, that any one who heard him,
and knew licr, would be inclined to doubt which made the most
ridiculous figure of the two.
A pause, therefore, was always joyfully welcomed, and turned
to excellent account. Sometimes, by her hiding her laughing
face with her hands, and running off, as if too modest to hear any
more, and sometimes, as in the present instance, by her throwing
her arms round his neck, and stopping his lips by a kiss.
In neither case did the adoring father betray any displeasure ;
and if she seized the next moment to make, or reiterate a request,
she might be tolerably sure that it would not be refused.
On her now gaily clapping her hands, and exclaiming, ''Well,
then, dearest papa ! you will let this good boy, who nearly killed
himself to prevent my falling into the water — you will let him
stay at the castle, and take care of the Yon Schwanberg library,
and he must be called tlie lilrarian, you know. I believe that he
is rather young for a librarian, but that does not signify, for he
deserves to be treated like a grown-up person, because he behaved
like one."
''Quite true! Perfectly true, Gertrude," said the greatly
pleased baron; who, by some lucky chance, happened to know
that the Emperor had a library, and a librarian. " Of course, as
you grow up, my dear, it will become necessary for me to make
several additions to my establishment. As soon as ever you are
old enough to be presented at the different courts, where I mean
to introduce you, I shall have a groom of the chambers, Gertrude,
for the purpose of announcing to you in a proper manner, all
persons who may have the honour, wherever we may be, of being
permitted to wait upon you and your mamma."
During this last important speech, the baron had held the hand
of his daughter in his own ; but as this restraint was becoming
particularly troublesome to her, she emancipated herself by a
sudden movement, and then danced out of the room, kissing the
rescued hand to him as she went. The certainty that everything
she said, and did, would be considered as right, and well done,
was rather a dangerous sort of experience to be acquired by a very
lively young lady of twelve years old.
Such, however, was the fate of my heroine ; and her gentle
6—2
68 geeteude; oe,
mother often sighed, as she thought how very little it was in her
power to do, to counteract the dangerous effect of it.
On the present occasion, however, there seemed to he no room
for regret of auy kind. A real difficulty had heen got over, and a
real convenience obtained; and slow as the movements of the
Baron von Schwanberg generally were, but few hours were per-
mitted to elapse after Gertrude left him, before he dispatched a
man and horse to the residence of Father Alaric, requesting his
immediate attendance at the castle.
The newly appointed confessor lost no time in obeying the
summons ; and in the course of the interview which followed
between him and his noble penitent, he had, while doing honour
very justly due to the acquirements of his young nephew, the
good fortune to dwell upon one of his acquirements, which added
in a very important degree to the satisfaction with which the
baron contemplated the idea of adding the youth to his estab-
lishment.
"We can never be grateful enough," said the humble-minded
confessor, " for the noble generosity with which it is your excel-
lency's pleasure to recompense my nephew for the service which
the special Providence of the Holy Yirgin enabled him to perform
to the precious heiress of Schwanberg ; but my happiness, from
this flattering arrangement, is very greatly increased, by my
thinking, that the education which my nephew has received by
the help of his mother, may be of service in more ways than one
to your excellence."
"By keeping the valuable library, bequeathed to me by my
ancestors, in good order," said the baron, with dignity.
"l!^ot only that, your excellence, but it is a comfort to me to
think that, by the careful instructions of his mother, who is an
excellent scholar, he writes so beautifully well as to be quite capa-
ble of performing the duties of a secretary to your excellence."
Now, in truth, the noble Baron von Schwanberg had no more
want of a secretary, than of a milliner ; but he was perfectly well
aware, that very great men did employ a secretary ; and though
the idea of adding such an appendage to his establishment had
never occurred to him, he no sooner heard it mentioned by Father
Alaric, than he felt suddenly convinced that he should find such
a functionary extremely useful ; but that he liad been very
neglectful of his own ease and convenience by neglecting to pro-
vide himself with tliis very necessary attendant befoi'e.
But though taken a good deal by surprise when listening to
this novel proposition, he did not so much forget his habitual
FAMILY PEIDE. 69
dignity as to betray any feeling of the kind. His wife, excellent
woman as she was, would often have given gold, could she have
escaped thereby from the painful, yet smile-provoking conscious-
ness, that there was something marvellously resembling the
comic solemnity of the owl in the physiognomy of her noble
husband, whenever he happened to take it into his head that he
was called upon to look particularly dignified and sagacious ; but
happily for rather Alaric's well-being as confessor to the Baron
von Schwanberg, he had no such stuff in his thoughts ; and
during the interval which followed between his proposal of per-
mitting his nephew to add the duties of secretary to those of
librarian, he remained seated, exactly in front of his new penitent,
but with his own eyes humbly fixed upon the ground.
After the interval of some few minutes, however, the baron
slowly unclosed his lips, and began to speak.
''What you have just said, Father Alaric, has a great deal of
very sound sense and good judg-ment in it. That a secretary
would be very useful to me, is most certain ; but it can be
scarcely necessary for me, I should think, when speaking to a
man of your inspired profession and excellent understanding, — it
cannot be necessary for me, I say, to point out to such a one the
extreme importance of not appointing any one to the situation,
of whose merits and capacity I can have any doubt."
The confessor raised his meek eyes, and looked very much as
if he was going to speak.
'* I must beg you, Father Alaric, to wait till I have concluded
what I was about to say," said the baron, with much dignity.
The confessor coloured slightly, crossed his hands over his
breast, and again fixed his eyes upon the ground.
"Of course, Father Alaric," resumed the lord of the castle,
*' I must frequently have been inconvenienced by feeling the
want of a secretary. To a man of my extensive connections, and
very large property, it cannot be otherwise than troublesome and
fatiguing to be without one. But the fear of bringing into con-
tact with myself any individual whose appearance and manners
might be objectionable, or in any way distasteful to me, has con-
stantly prevented my offering the appointment to any one.
Your present proposal, however, has much in it to make me
hope that I might now safely venture to make this very proper
addition to my establishment ; and I fully authorize you, my
good Father Alaric, to impart to your nephew, the doubtless
welcome news of his appointment to. the joint offices of librarian
and private secretary to the Baron von Schwanberg."
70 geeteuke; oe,
And then he added, after returning, with great dignity, the
hnmble and grateful obeisance of the ecclesiastic ; " And I flatter
myself, Father Alaric, that this appointment, with such a salary
as I shall deem it fit and proper to annex to it, together with my
having caused his name to be specially mentioned in the solemn
service of thanksgiving which I commanded in the chapel of the
castle, will be considered by the friends of the young boy, as well
as by the world in general, as a sufficient proof that I am not
ungrateful for the service which your nephew was fortunate
enough to confer on me and my race."
Perhaps there is no attitude better suited for the reception of a
long speech than that of crossing the hands with a sort of sub-
missive passiveness upon the breast, and fixing the eyes upon the
gi-ound. It is an attitude familiar to the Ilomish priesthood,
when listening to their superiors; and it was that to which
Father Aalaric had recourse on the present occasion. But when
the baron ceased, he raised his eyes, and having gently murmured
a thankful acknowledgment for the favours bestowed on his
nephew, made a low bow, and departed.
CHAPTER XL
The style in which this same appointment was communicated
to the baroness, ditfered considerably from that in which it was
made known to the father confessor ; for it was with a dancing
step, and a joyous clapping of hands, that Gertrude entered her
mother's dressiDg-room, and announced the news.
But it was in vain that the elder lady assumed an aspect of
the most perfect propriety, as she listened to the intelligence ;
for Gertrude, with her bright eyes sparkling through her cluster-
ing curls, and her laughing lips vainly attempting to screw them-
selves into a suitable expression of solemnity, related the harangue
of her father (including at full length all his compliments to her-
self) in so very a heroic style, that for a moment the baroness's
gravity forsook her, and it was in vain that the very useful veil
so often furnished by the ever-ready cambric, was called to her
assistance ; for, despite her utmost efi'orts, her mischievous
daughter perceived that she had succeeded in making her laugh.
It was but for a moment, however ; for fondly as she loved the
FAMILY rraDE.
71
fearless playfulness of her petted child, she Tvas niost^ truly
desirous of veiling from her as much as possible the deficiencies
of her noble father.
But this task was every day becoming more difScult ; and
when it happened, as in the present instance, that her own
gravity gave way, she generally cut short the conversation by
saying, " Gertrude ! you are giving me pain."
But now she felt that a still stronger rebuke was deserved,
and her own inclination to laugh speedily gave way before her
wish to correct a propensity in her child, which seemed likely to
conquer much more valuable feelings.
" You have made me laugh, Gertrude," she said ; '' but it is a
poor triumph, my child ! The ludicrous movements of a monkey
might have the same effect. Our muscles are not always under
the command of our judgment. On this occasion, particularly, I
should have thought that the kindness of your father, in so im-
mediately complying with our wishes, would have created a
feeling very far removed from ridicule."
The manner in which this was said, as well as the gravity of
the words themselves, was well calculated to produce the effect
desired ; and it did produce it. Gertrude never again mimicked
the manner of her father, when repeating to her mother anything
which he had said to her ; and much was gained thereby on
many subsequent occasions ; for the more Gertrude increased in
years and stature, the more did she find it necessary to confine to
her own bosom the judginent which she was led to form of her
father's intellectual capacity.
But though relieved from the saucy commentaries of her
daughter, Madame de Schwanberg found it no very easy task to
place the highly-intelligent boy, whom they had almost made
one of their own family, in his right place. She had not passed
by far the greatest portion of the last twelve years in miscel-
laneous, and sometimes in deep reading, without acquiring that
sort of insight into the varities and peculiarities of human
intellect, which enables an acnte observer to form a tolerably
just estimate of the faculties of those with whom they are inti-
mately associated. The boy Eupert was not, either in intellect
or character, by any means a common boy.
Observant persons, who direct their attention to the fact, may
often find that a mixture of race produces many striking varities,
both of intellect and character. The mother of Eupert was Eng-
lish by her mother's side, and Prussian on that of her father ;
and her husband, the father of Eupert, was a native of Innspruck.
72 GEETErDE; OR,
HoAY this variety of lineage aff(^cted either the morale or the
'phj/siqi'e of the boy, I Avill not attempt to trac-c, or even to guess,
but content myself by stating the fact, that he was, in more
ways than one, a remarkable boy.
In most things, however, he resembled his mother more than
he did his father, especially as to the character of his intellect.
In that peculiar beauty of countenance, which had struck Madame
de Schwanberg when she first saw him in his sick chamber, he
decidedly resembled both his parents ; but the tall stature which
he had already attained, was evidently inherited from his father.
It took the baroness but little time after the j'oung librarian
had been fully established in his office, to convince her, that if
her gratitude for the service he had rendered her child, had
placed before him all the employments and occupations which the
world could ofiJ'er, it would have been impossible for him to have
fixed on any which would have suited him so well.
His passion for reading appeared insatiable ; and no sooner
had she perceived this, than she was induced by various causes
to indulge him in it. In the first place, there was her gTatitude,
which prompted her very earnestly to promote his well-being and
happiness, by every means in her power ; and in no way, accord-
ing to her own estimate of the comparative value of the various
sources of enjoyment gTanted to us in this life, could she so
effectually administer to it, as by indulging his inclination for
reading.
Moreover, it appeared to her, that this occupation, "never
ending, still beginning," was the best, if not the only way of
supplying him with constant employment, for she did not expect
that much business would come upon him as secretary to the
lord of the castle ; and although she certainly anticipated a good
deal of active work for him in the library, she anticipated also
that many an idle hour would be left upon his hands, if he had
no other employment than keeping his books in order.
During the first week or two after this arrangement had been
decided upon, and that his mother had returned to the dwelling
of Father Alaric, the baron seemed desperately determined to
prove to all whom it might concern, that the appointment of
this favoured youth to the place of private secretary to the illus-
trious lord of Schloss Schwanberg was no sinecure, whatever
other advantages it might oflcr.
To do him justice, he took good care that it should be well
salaried, that the room appointed for so distinguished a func-
tionary should be extremely comfortable, and that the domestics,
FAMILY PEIDE. 73
from one end of the estaLlishment to the other, shonld be very
distinctly given to nnderstand, that his private secretary, the
Herr Odenthal, should be treated and attended upon in all
respects like a gentleman.
The arranging all this was not only easy, but agreeable to
him ; for he was liberal by nature, and so truly grateful for the
service the boy had rendered him, that every opportunity of
treating him with generosity and kindness, was a real pleasure
to him.
So far, all was well ; it was only when the unfortunate baron
had to lind employment for his secretary, that his troubles began.
The first idea which occurred to him in this dilemma, was,
that he should dispatch notes to one or two of his neighbours,
inviting them to dine at the castle. He really ought to have had
his picture taken while dictating these notes ; for never, perhaps,
had he looked more superbly dignified during any moment of his
existence. Rupert, too, at the moment he was summoned to
attend him, had been most deeply and delightfully occupied in
the perusal of a volume of newly-arrived English poetry, which
tlie baroness had good-naturedly put into his hands, proved the
honest earnestness with which he desired to perform the duties
assigned to him by the promptitude with which he closed the
precious volume, and followed the servant who had been sent to
summon him. His eye was still bright, and his cheek was still
fiushed by the excitement caused by the "Lay of the Last
Minstrel; " but the feelings of the baron were of too grave and
solemn a kind, to permit his noticing the animated appearance
of the ofiicial he was about to employ.
A table, with all that was necessary for writing and sealing
very carefully placed upon it, awaited the arrival of the young
secretary; a chair also was very attentively placed for him,
exactly where it ought to be, and the baron himself was seated
in a very large and pompous-looking hergcre, at no great distance.
When the youth was near enough to make his salutation to
his dignified employer, the baron acknowledged it by graciously
bending his head, and waving his hand towards the vacant chair,
as an intimation that the secretary was to seat himself in it.
The youth obeyed, and in like obedience to another wave of
the hand, accompanied by the words, " I wish you to write for
me ; " after placing himself in the vacant chair, cbew towards
him the implements for writing, which were placed before it.
*'I wish you," still more solemnly resumed the baron, "I
wish you, Mr. Kupert, to write several letters for me."
74 gerteude; oe,
Eupert, upon hearing this, took the pen in his fingers, and
with a look of awakened diligence, dntifully determined to forget
Eranksome Tower, and everything belonging to it.
" He — hem ! " quoth the baron.
The pen of Eupert ah-eady touched the paper. A pause
followed; and then the haron, again cleariug his voice, said,
very distinctly : " My dear sir " — but there he stopped.
Having waited for what appeared to the unpractised secretary
a very long time, the youth began to suspect that he had made
a blunder in supposing the dictation to have been already begun,
and that he was himself the ''dear sir" addressed; whereupon
he said, very respectfully: "Did you speak to me, my Lord
Earon?"
" jSTo ! my good lad, no ! " was the immediate reply. " I am
addressing myself to one of my noble neighbours, by letter. My
dear sir," he again began ; but these words being already written,
Eupert could only refresh the dot over the /, which he did.
Another interval of silence followed, and then the baron said :
" I am not quite certain, Mr. Eupert, whether the use of the
third person is not the more correct and dignified mode of ex-
pression upon these occasions. Put aside that sheet of paper, if
you please, and begin again."
Eupert obeyed, as far as the sheet of paper was concerned ;
but having very carefully laid another before him, he had to
wait several minutes before he received any instructions concern-
ing the use to which it was to be put.
At length, the baron spoke again, and, in a still more impres-
sive tone than before, pronounced the words, "The Baron von
Schwanberg presents" — but having proceeded thus far, he again
paused, and Eupert, having inscribed the words in fair characters
upon the paper, paused too.
But, this time, the pause was longer, and there was evidently
doubt and difiiculty in the mind of Eupert's master, as to what
was to follow ; nor was it till the noble author had repeatedly
pressed his forehead with his hand, that he again spoke. But,
at length, he said: "You have been over-hasty, my good boy.
Kothing should ever be written in a hurry. I have still doubts
as to which mode of address is, upon the whole, most un-
objectionable."
Eupert, thus reproved, changed the attitude of his hand, and,
instead of placing himself in an act to write, took the attitude of
the most respectful listener. This state of things, also, lasted
for some time, and then the baron said : "On the whole, perhaps,
FAMILY PEIDE. 75
the first person may be preferable. Take fresh paper, if you
please, and write carefully, according to my dictation."
Eupcrt dutiiully listened, and faithfully obeyed, inscribing on
the fresh paper, in fair characters, the following epistle : —
*' My dear Sie, — It will give both the Baroness von Schwan-
bcrg and myself the sincerest pleasure, if you, my dear Count,
with the amiable Countess your lady, and the charming young
Countess your daughter, will afford to the Baroness von Schwan-
berg and myself, as well as to our young daughter the Baroness
Gertrude, the honour and pleasure of your company at dinner,
on Thursday next, the 19th of the present month, at the hour of
four.
" I remain, my dear ."
Eupert had already wiitten " Ste," when the baron stopped
him, by saying, somewhat sharply, ^'AVhat is that you have
written, young man ? I must desire you to observe, that my
secretary must not write faster than I dictate : I had no inten-
tion whatever of repeating the phrase, * dear sir.' jS'othing is
.worse in composition than repetition. My purpose was to con-
clude with the words, ' dear Count.' "
'' I beg your pardon, my Lord Baron," said the boy, colouring;
'* I will write it over again in a moment, if you will permit me."
" Yes, Mr. Eupert. I not only permit, but must insist upon
it. It must not, however, be done in my presence. You cannot
suppose, young man, that I can bestow any portion of my
valuable time, in sitting by while my secretary corrects his own
blunders. Take these papers with you to the library. If I mis-
take not, the baroness permits your proceeding with the neces-
sary business of making a catalogue of the books in my library,
without your making a point of leaving the room when she
enters it ; and, fortunately, the noble size of the apartment per-
mits her doing so without any inconvenience to herself. Take
these papers with you, my good lad, and on no account permit
yourself to be in a hurry. Eather than that you should be so, I
would permit you to have a holiday from your work in the
library for the remainder of the day. Your enjoying the joint
of&ces of private secretary and librarian, will, of course, render
it occasionally necessary that the great work of forming a
catalogue should be suspended. IS'ow leave me, Mr. Puupert.
My time is very valuable. You are too young and inexperienced,
as yet, to be aware of the many calls upon the time of a nobleman
76 GERTRUDE; OE,
of my position ; and therefore, for the present,. I can only impress
npon you the necessity of never breaking in upon me without
having received especial permission to do so."
Eupert bowed low, and was leaving the room in respectfu\
silence, when the baron recoiled him, to say: "Of course, you
are aware, young man, that you are not to presume to sign my
name to this document. I will not believe, as it is evident that
you have received a very decent education — I will not believe, I
say, that you would be likely to commit such an offence. It is,
however, my duty, having received you as an inmate into my
family, that I should not trust your being aware of so important
a law, to chance. It is not impossible, indeed, or wholly im-
probable, that when you have listened to such a prohibition as
that which I am now enforcing, you may have heard it accom-
panied by the formula, ^ ivith intent to defraud.'' But this quali-
fication, though enough, if attended to, to exonerate you from
danger in the eye of the law, is by no means sufficient, in the
case of a secretary to a nobleman holding my position in society.
The law contemplates only the pecuniary injury which may be
done; but the feelings of a nobleman, on such subjects, are far
more refined than it is within the reach of mere lawyers to
understand. Do you hear me, Mr. Rupert ? And do you com-
prehend what I mean ? "
'' I quite well comprehend," replied Eupert, fixing his eyes
upon the ground, "that in no way, and for no reason, my Lord
Earon, would you hold me excusable were I to write your
name."
"You have expressed yourself very properly, my good lad,"
replied the baron, evidently pleased by the clear and distiiiet
manner in which his young dependent had worded the important
law he had laid down; " and now," he added, "you may leave
me, my good Eupert ; I have business of importance to transact,
in which I shall not require your assistance."
If the boy had looked in upon his noble master ten minutes
later, and seen him, as he would have then found him, fast asleep
in his arm-chair, it is possible that lie might have suspected this
august master to have been uttering a jest when he thus dismissed
him ; but, in that case, the boy would have blundered, for
nothing in the least degree resembling a joke occupied the mind
of the solemn baron. Perhaps he thonght that he really was
going to perform important business ; perhaps he had some
dreamy sort of notion that he would ring the bell, and t(dl the
footman to tell the butler to tell the cook that it was probable
FAMILY PEIDE. 77
there would be a company dinner given at the castle on the fol-
lowing Thursday.
But if any such active project really occurred to him, the
fatigue he had undergone in transacting business with his secre-
tary, had incapacitated him for that, or for any farther exertion ;
for, in truth, although he placed a hand on each arm of his chair,
as if he intended to rise from it, he was too much overpowered
by drowsiness to achieve the doing so ; and having gently snnk
back into a leaning position, had fallen into a sound sleep, which
lasted till the first dinner-bell had sent its rousing peal through
the castle.
CHAPTER XII.
"NVhex Eupcrt returned with his papers to the library, he found
the baroness and Gertrude rather lazily occupied ; for, to say the
truth, neither the mother, who had sat down with an intention
to read — nor the daughter, who had sat down with an intention
to draw, could fix their attention sufficiently upon what they
were about, to prevent their thinking a good deal, and talking a
little upon the subject of Hupert's dehut, in his capacity of secre-
tary to the baron.
They had both been for some days aware that he had been
appointed to this important office, but this was the first time he
had been called upon to perform the duties attached to it.
Unfortunately — venj unfortunately — as the excellent baroness
often told herself, the young Gertrude von Schwanberg had a
peculiarly acute sense of the ridiculous ; and there was, perhaps, no
point of her education which had given her mother so much trouble
as she had found in keeping this unfortunate propensity in sub-
jection. The excellent motives which had made this sort of
discipline appear so peculiarly important to Madame de Schwan-
berg, may be easily guessed at.
Her consciousness of her own deficiencies in the respect and
Love with which it is the duty of a wife to regard her husband,
was a subject of never-ceasing regret to her; nay, there were
times when the far bitterer feeling of self-reproach was mixed
with this regret ; for she was ever perfectly ready to acknowledge,
even to her own heart, that her noble husband was possessed of
78 geetetjde; o:R,
many excellent qualities, and that his obliging and observant
conduct to herself had been such as ought to have atoned to her,
more than they had done, for his slow and weak intellect, as well
as for the many traits of character which often excited both
smiles and frowns on her part, when, as she was quite ready to
allow, they ought not to have excited either. But it was much
easier to plead guilty to her faults in these her secret self-exami-
nations, than to correct them in her intercourse with her husband ;
all that she could do, therefore, for the ease of her conscience,
was to guard as much as possible from betraying any species of
disrespect to him, in the presence of her daughter.
This cautious circumspection on her part, at least, produced
one good effect, and that a very important one, for it prevented
their ever indulging together in a smile at any of the numerous
absurdities of the worthy baron. How far, in the case of Ger-
trude, this restraint proceeded from her own convictions of what
was right and proper, and how far from compliance with the
example so stedfastly exhibited by her mother, it might be diffi-
cult to say, nor did her mother seek to know.
^^hen Rupert entered the library, with his hand full of papers,
and his eyes full of fun, while the flush upon his handsome face
showed plainly enough, that he had passed through some scene
which had more than usually excited him, both the baroness and
her daughter behaved admirably well ; and that it was their pur-
pose to do so, was proved by their not even exchanging a glance
together.
The library at Schloss Schwanbcrg was a very noble and
spacious apartment. That part of it which was farthest removed
from the door of entrance had three large windows, which com-
manded a view of the porch. It was here that the baroness and
her young daugher spent by far the greatest part of their days.
Each of them had their own place there ; a separate table large
enough to contain materials for various employments, and a chair
ready to be occupied by the person employed. Each of these
tables was so placed as to command the view afforded by the two
windows most distant from each other ; while between the two,
and in front of the third, was a somewhat longer table, with a
sofa, well calculated for the accommodation of two louuijius:
ladies, the table in front of it being tolerably well laden with
books.
But this portion of the apartment occupied only one-third of
its entire size ; the lofty ceiling being in three divisions, each one
mlarked by a very noble arch, and supported by columns cf very
FAMILY PETDE. 79
noble proportions, whicli, thoiigli not advancing above three feet
from the wall, gave a sort of enjoyable snugness to the three
divisions of the room, which, without them, might have looked
too large for comfort.
Each of the lower compartments had its separate window, and
the middle one seemed dedicated to mnsic, for there stood the
grand pianoforte, which both mother and daughter touched so
ably, and there also stood a harp, and music desk.
How the lower end of the room had been arranged before the
Schloss Schwanberg establishment had been augmented by a
librarian and seci-etary, it boots not to say ; but at the time of
which I am now speaking, a very substantial writing-table, with
all appurtenances and means to boot, was placed at a convenient
distance from the lowest window ; and on this table was placed
not only all implements necessary for writing, but a goodly show
of very ample volumes, ready to receive from the hand of llupert
the titles of the many thousand volumes which were ranged on
the massive book-shelves which surrounded the room.
It should seem, from the aspect of this very noble apartment,
that the climate was a cold one, for each division had its separate
stove.
On the entrance of Eupert in the manner above described,
the two ladies raised their eyes from their respective employ-
ments, and then, having looked at him for a moment, resumed
them.
Eupert, too, for one short moment looked at them ; but as they
did not address him, or give any other indication of wishing him
to approach, he quietly seated himself at his especial writing-
table, and in a minute or two afterwards, appeared to be busily
occupied with his pen.
But the sharp eyes of Gertrude speedily perceived that he was
not at work upon his catalogue ; and after watching him for a
little while, without affecting to conceal that she was so doing,
she suddenly started up, exclaiming, "]Mamma! I must see what
it is that papa has given him to do, before I can fix my attention
upon anything I wish to do myself;" and without waiting for
any reply, she bounded down the room with a very active and
resolute step, and -placed herself behind the chair of the young
secretary.
Eupert behaved admirably well, for he did not, even for an
instant, turn round his head to speak, or even to look at her. It
might be, perhaps, that he dared not meet her eyes, from fearing
that he might laugh. But, whatever was his motive, his
80 GERTRUDE; OR,
demeanour was exactly what it ought to be ; a fact, of which the
baroness, who had followed her daughter's movements with her
eyes, was perfectly aware.
She certainly gave the lad credit for his discretion, in so
steadily pursuing the occupation which had been given him,
without permitting the frolicsome approach of the young lady
to withdraw his attention from it ; but she was not aware of half
his merit ; for there lay all the various sheets of papers before
him, on which he had made his first abortive attempts at per-
forming the duties of a secretary, by writing from dictation ; and
considering their mutual acquaintance with the peculiarities of
the other party concerned, Avhich would have required nothing
more than a simple exposure of the various folios, in order to
make the ludicrous scene which had passed, as obvious to Ger-
trude as it had been to himself ; Rupert indulged not himself by
making any such display ; but, on the contrary, contrived to mix
the paper with which he had returned so skilfully, with what he
found on his table, that he thought that not even the sharp eyes
of Gertrude could make any very important discovery concerning
the business which had been transacted between the Baron von
Schwnnberg and his newly-appointed secretary.
The words, as well as the movement of Gertrude had made
her mother aware both of her object, and of the unscrupulous
mode she had taken to obtain it ; and as the baroness happened
to be so placed, as to be able to follow her wilful daughter with
her eyes, without changing her own position ; she had an oppor-
tunity of observing the behaviour of Rupert, as well as that of
Gertrude ; and she gave him great credit for the manner in which
he contrived to defeat her unscrupulous curiosity, without even
appearing to notice it.
She felt that the boy deserved to be trusted, and the feeling
this, was really and reasonably a great satisfaction to her ; for
had the case been otherwise, the familiarity of intercourse, which
was the almost inevitable consequence of his employment in the
apartment they chiefly occupied, would have been very objection-
able.
But although the baroness gave him honour due for the quiet,
yet effective manner in which he had avoided the indiscretion,
as well as the familiarity, of making the J'oung lady acquainted
with the business which he was transacting with her fiithcr ; she
was very far from being aware, cither of the amount of this
forbearance on his part, or of the importance of it on that of her
daughter.
FAMILY PllIDE. 81
'^Vt■ll prepared as she was to give the baron credit for very
great ahsiirdilT, she by no means supposed that any scene so
ridiculous as the one which has just passed between him and his
secretary, could have taken place ; and she therefore attributed
no merit to Eupert, beyond that of well-behaved discretion.
Ptupcrt might, indeed, very easily have repaid himself for the
heavy moments which he had passed in the performance of his
difficult duty to his master ; for the mere exposui'c of the various
abortive dispatches to eyes and intelligence as quick as those of
Gertrude, would have been quite sufficient to have explained the
whole matter to her ; and there was merriment enough in one
smile of hers, to have atoned for more than all the heavy dullness
from which he had just escaped.
But Eupert Odcnthal had other good qualities, besides the
courage which had urged him to spring into the water, for the
purpose of saving Gertrude's life. Eupert Odenthal " had a
conscience." The ditference of age between himself and the
young baroness, was only three years ; but when the senior is
only fifteen and a-half, such difference is apt to appear greater
than it really is. Moreover, Eupert was a very manly boy of
his age, and much older in proportion, as far as judgment went,
than the over-indulged heiress of the Baron von Schwanberg.
There was a bounding gaiety of step in the manner in which
Gertrude now approached him, which made him shrewdly sus-
pect, that the young lady might be so indiscreet as to quiz her
papa, if he afibrded such an opportunity for it, as the variations
in his correspondence with his noble neighbour might give ; and
he accordingly placed the sheets which he had brought back
with him (by a hasty movement), between the pages of his blot-
ting-book, bringing forward, almost at the same instant, a fresh
sheet of paper, which he placed before him, while he commenced
the dilatory operation of mending a pen.
But Gertrude had been too quick for him. Ere she had reached
his chair, her eye had caught sight of the characters upon the
various sheets which had been taken, and rejected ; and the real
state of the case was revealed to her, as distinctly as if she had
been present at the scene.
Her prompt suspicion of what had passed, was, of course,
materially assisted by her foregone knowledge of the dull baron's
extraordinary slowness and uncertainty upon all occasions of the
kind ; and for one short moment she anticipated considerable
merriment, from the account which Eupert, who was by no
means a dull narrator, was likely to give of the affair ; but a
82 geetefde; oe,
second thoiiglit brought a repentant blush to lier clieek, and she
walked back again to her own little table, without saying a
word. Madame de Schwanberg saw all this, and understood it
too, and gave both parties the credit they deserved. Rupert was
permitted to proceed with his important task as secretary with-
out farther interruption ; and when, after the judicious delay of
about half-an-hour, he carried the fair- written document to the
baron for his signature, that illustrious individual felt such an
agreeable accession of dignity from this royal mode of giving it
value and effect, that from that time forth, he never made any
other use of his pen than what was necessary to sign his name ;
and it would, perhaps, be difficult to trace as much ingenuity
and invention in any other circumstance throughout his life, as
he displayed at finding occasions for performing this important
ceremony.
CHAPTER XIII.
The instance given in the last chapter of Rupert Odenthal's
discreet conduct, and more than discreet feeling, went farther,
and did more, towards giving Aladame de Schwanberg a respect
for his character and confidence in his principles, than might
have been produced by a multitude of excellent traits, all per-
haps exhibiting great ability, and even good feeling also.
But the poor baroness was so deeply conscious of the profound
feeling of contempt with which her noble husband's intellectual
deficiencies had inspired her, that she di^eaded nothing so much
as seeing her beloved Gertrude fall into the same sin. So blame-
less had been her own life, and so truly benevolent and indulgent
were the feelings of her heart toAvards every human being with
whom she had come in contact, with the sole exception of her
wearisome husband, that the consciousness of this exception lay
very heavily on her spirit, and the idea of her child's being by
any means betrayed into the same sin, was really terrible to her.
The strong persuasion, therefore, that, instead of being led to
this, she would be guarded from it, by the good sense and high
principle of the boy, whom accident had thrown into such inti-
mate contact with them, was most welcome, and consolatory.
FAMILY PRIDE. 83
Had Madame de Scliwanberg's practical knowledge of the
world been equal, or in any fair proportion, to the information
she had acquired from books, this dread, lest her daughter should
sympathise too completely with her in her feelings towards the
baron, would not have taken such painful possession of her ; for
with more experience of the world and its ways, she would have
learnt that iS'ature never blunders as hopelessly as we sometimes
blunder ourselves.
Save in some few rare and perfectly exceptional cases, we
never see any dislike between parents and children, that can
compare, in bitterness and intensity, to what may frequently be
seen to exist between husband and wife.
The community of their worldly interests, and still more, per-
haps, the community of their parental feelings, go far towards
checking this ; so far, indeed, that in a multitude of instances,
domestic peace is not disturbed openly, by the want of personal
attachment between the parties ; but where parents have authori-
tatively interfered to bring those together whom inclination, on
either side, would keep asunder, they have to answer for the
heavy sin of charging the unhappy victim with a weight too
heavy to be borne patiently, and a duty too difficult to be sin-
cerely performed.
It was such an authority as this, which had made the high-
minded, intellectual Baroness von Schwanberg the companion for
life of the prejudiced and hea^y-minded baron.
It has been already stated, that this unfortunate lady's greatest
cause of anxiety, during the infancy of her daughter, arose from
her dread, lest her child should inherit the weak and slow capacity
of its father ; and the happiest period of her married life was
decidedly that, during w^hich the bright faculties and clear in-
tellect of her child were displaying themselves under her own
able and ardent tuition, in a manner very effectually to convince
her, that all such fears were vain.
It is was only since the domestication of the young Eupert in
the family, that this new cause of natural uneasiness had sug-
gested itself to her. Hitherto, the reading of Gertrude, though
extremely agreeable both to the teacher and the taught, had for
the most part been selected more with a view to solid instruction
than present amusement ; and though the enchantment created
by poetry was beginning to be felt by the young student, it had
as yet only reached her in the form of, or,- at least, blended with
instniction.
Before her accident, too, so large a portion of her favomite
7—2
84 GERTEXn)Ej OK,
( xcrci.ce, and her favoiirite pleasure, was enjoyed with her father,
and derived solely ironi his care and attention to her wishes, that
her mother's tender conscience was perfectly at ease respecting
the mutual feelings of both father and daughter. But the terrific
accident which had led to llupert Odenthal's becoming a member
of the family, had, for some time, gTcatly checked and curtailed
this enjoyment; for the baron, himself, had been too seriously
teiTified to be very eager for a speedy renewal of the exercise ;
and the mother's agony at the idea of it was such, that Gertrude,
from very love and pity to her, was long before she ventured to
propose the renewal of her favourite exercise.
But, somehow or other, it seemed as if the taking the catalogue
of the library supplied a source of occupation and amusement,
sufficient to make them forget the want of any other. The baron,
of course, continued his usual habit of spending some hours of
every day on horseback ; and many weeks elapsed before he even
wished to enjoy the much-loved delight of seeing Gertrude riding
by his side, so fresh was still the recollection of what he had
suffered from seeing her life in danger.
Duiing this interval, the baroness, and her aidful daughter also,
had not only found the examination and arrangement of the
library to be an occupation full of interest and amusement ; but
they found also, that, in order to bring it into the condition in
which it ought to be, it would be absolutely necessary that
Rupert should have all the assistance they could give him.
They had neither of them, as yet, been very careful librarians ;
but, nevertheless, they knew their way among the shelves well
enough to render his task very much easier than it would have
been without them. Tor the first few days that they thus worked
together, the eftbrts of the trio, though they had all the same
object in view, namely, the orderly arrangement of the volumes
which were, as yet, for the most part, placed side by side, with-
out any regular arrangement at all ; for the first few days of
their labour there was little or no attempt among them to pursue
any fixed plan of operations, though one and the same ultimate
object was always in view ; on the contrary, indeed, a looker-on
might have been tempted to declare, that the object of each was
perfectly difi'erent and distinct from that of the others. The
baroness might have been observed to bring the German, French,
and English books, which furnished the fund from which she
di-ew her own resources, into the part of the room where she
usually sat; while it was quite evident, that Gertrude's selection
of permanent lodgings for the favourites to whom she looked for
FAMILY TEIDE. 85
future compaiiionship, in a great measure depended upon altitude
of position, as she carefully avoided placing any volume which
it was her purpose to read, above the easy reach of her own
hand.
E-upert's manoeuvres seemed to be regulated on a principle
quite different from either ; for he very sedulously divided the
volumes according to the different languages in which they had
been written, but placing them with very little regard to any-
thing else.
The tremendous business of dusting, it must be observed, had
been previously performed under the eye of the house-steward,
who, by the help of some half-dozen assistants, had, in the course
of a few days, taken down every volume, and replaced it again,
so as to leave both shelves and books in a condition to be ap-
proached and handled, without any risk to the bold invader of
being smothered.
So far, therefore, all seemed to go on smoothly ; till one day,
when Eupcrt had been, if possible, more than usually active, he
suddenly suspended his operations, and approaching the baroness
with somewhat of a melancholy aspect, and accosting her with
a very ominous shake of the head, he said, "My lady baroness!
we are all wrong 1 This will never do ! How can a catalogue be
made out in any regular order, where there is no order in the
books themselves ?"
The baroness immediately suspended her own operations, and
looked and listened with great attention.
" Explain yourself, dear Rupert," she said. ** "W^hat is it that
you would propose ?"
" I scarcely know, myself, dear lady," he replied; "but I am
quite sure, that if the books are left as we are placing them now,
no catalogue that I can make, will ever assist any one in finding
the particular volume that may be wished for."
The ladv of the castle raised her hand to her forehead, and
remained for some moments in meditation. At length she replied,
with rather a deep sigh, "I am very much afraid that you are
right, Eupert."
**And I am afraid so too," replied the anxious-looking boy.
"But if we are to begin all over again," he added, "you must
please to promise me, that neither you, nor the young baroness,
Avill do any more with your own hands. You look tired now,
dear lady ! Will you promise not to take any more trouble ?"
" But what terrible labour is it you are going to propose ? I
assui'B you, I like the work, Eupert ; and if I give you the pro-
86 geetpxde; oe,
misG you ask for, I should really be promisiug to give up a very
great pleasure. Ilemember what your mother's darling poet says.
' The labour we delight in, physics pain.' "
"Yes, dear lady! I understand that, and I feel it, too. But
when labour has been performed, the having to undo it, and begin
over again, is likely to produce a more disagreeable consciousness
of fLitigue. Do you not think so, madam?"
"AVhy, perhaps I do, Eupert," replied the baroness, laugh-
ing ; ' ' but do you really think that we are in that unhappy
condition ?"
It was with some reluctance, and a great deal of modesty, that
Eupert was at length fully brought to explain himself, and to
show, which he certainly did very clearly, that a catalogue con-
tinued upon so very miscellaneous a scheme as that which he had
began, accompanied by such an unsystematic arrangement of the
volumes on the shelves, was not likely to insui^e either the
information or the inconvenience which had been contemplated.
Eupert Odenthal and his fair assistants were by no means the
first, and will probably not be the last, who have been, sorely
troubled in finding out the easiest way of getting at the one book
we want, among many thousands that we do not want; and
whether the tri-partite ingenuity which was upon this occasion
brought to bear upon the question, produced the best result which
has been as yet hit upon, I will not pretend to say ; their labours
had at least, one effect, which was certainly very agreeable to all
the parties concerned, for it would have been very difficult to hit
upon any device which would so quickly have led to an equal
degree of friendly intimacy and practical equality among the trio
thus employed ; and the modest bearing and boyish age of Eupert,
as well as the childishness of Gertrude, so effectively prevented all
objection to the sort of domestic familiarity which ensued, from
even suggesting itself, that Eupert might have been heard issuing
orders to ''Gertrude," and Gertrude might have been seen very
meekly obeying them, without any thought ever occurring to the
busy baroness, that it might be as necessary to keep noble girls
and plebeian boys exactly in their respective places, as folios and
duodecimos in theirs.
And yet, it is scarcely fair to employ such a phrase, on such an
occasion ; for, if all the boys and girls in Christendom had been
brought together for judgment, it would have been impossible any
pair so brought, at the respective ages of fifteen and twelve, could
have been found, who would have given less reason to their
mothers and fathers, their pastors and masters, for any anxiety
FAMILY PEIDE. 87
respecting their coucluct, scp .irately or conjointly, than did Rupert
Odcnthal and Gertrude Yon SchwauLcrg.
jS'eYertlieless, -^YhereYcr it is thought desirahle that an immense
distance should exist through life between indiYiduals, the Tvisdom
of placing them in Yery close juxta-position, at first setting oflf,
may fairly be questioned.
There was also another point on which the judgment of
Madame you Schwanberg showed itself defectiYe.
She carried her dislike, or rather her di^ad of ignorant dullness,
to such an extent, that during the first ten years or so of Ger-
trude's life, it had positiYely become the hete noir of her
existence ; and, assuredly, she must, in what she would haYe
considered her most reasonable moments, haYe been ready to
declare, that there would haYe been less of lasting misery to her
in seeing her child die, than in seeing any positiYe symptoms in
her of intellectual deficiency.
It is certain that her anxieties on this subject were efi'ectually
and for CYcr remoYcd at a somewhat earlier period of her daugh-
ter's life than she could haYe reasonably expected ; for Gertrude
was not only a sharp-witted child, but, her animal senses being
as acute as her intellect, she manifested, at a Yery early age, a
more than ordinary degTee of intelligence.
^0 sooner did this great question appear to be settled in her
faYour, than lEadame Yon Schwanberg became perfectly reconciled
to her OYTQ. destiny.
''It would haYe, doubtless, been Yery agreeable," thought she,
"to haYe found a companion in my husband ; but if, at this hour,
the choice were offered me, I would rather, ten thousand times,
find that blessing in my child ! "
Such being the result of her most secret meditations, and such
the genuine feeling of her heart, it was natural enough that, in
educating her daughter, she should take the most especial care to
keep her bright young mind free from the only peculiarity which
appeared with sufficient strength and Yigour to be fairly considered
as a marked feature in that of her father. Xor must this strong
feeling, on her part, be considered as any proof of personal hostile
feeling towards her husband. That pride of race was the master-
feeling of his mind, no one who approached him could long be
permitted to doubt ; but her conYiction of this fact rather led her
to form a higher notion of his intellect than it deserYed ; for she
considered this oYcrgrown and ill-regulated feeling as a species of
mental fungus, which had spread oYcr and diseased his faculties,
so as to produce Yery nearly the effect of monomania ; whereas
88 GEnxiiuDE; or,
the real state of tlic case vra^, tliat, if the nolile baron had not
happily got hold of this idea, he woidd probaljly have passed
tliroiigh life M'ithout enjoying the high human prerogative of
being conscious of having any positive idea at all.
That, under these circumstances, the cultivation of Gertrude's
mind became the first object of her mother's life, nvdj easily be
understood ; and it took her but little time to discover that, if
Eupert's courage and dexterity had saved the young girl's life,
his bright and vaiied intelligence might be of almost equal
utility in assisting the powers of her young mind to develop and
strengthen themselves by the help both of example and emula-
tion.
The good baroness either was, or fancied herself to be, pecu-
liarly unfortunate in the intellectual peculiarities of most of her
neighbours. At any rate, she made no blunder when she became,
at length, fully, though reluctantly, convinced that there was
not a single reading human being within twenty miles of Schloss
Schwanberg. This she felt to be a grievous misfortune to herself
on her own account, as well as a serious disadvantage to Ger-
trude; "for how," thought she, "shall I ever be able to make
her comprehend that, if she ever lives to mix with the world,
she will not find all its inhabitants quite as ignorant or as dull as
the noble neighbours of Schloss Schwanberg?"
It is extremely probable that she was right in this ; but highly
as most assuredly she ought to rank, even amongst the most
intellectual and the most highly-instructed of her sex, there was
one point upon which the Baroness von Schwanberg very de-
cidedly deluded herself.
She would have been very indignant, and have considered her-
self as very cruelly misjudged, had any one told her that she
might be fairly charged with displaying a more decided proof
of deep-seated aristocraticai feeling, than ever her husband had
done,
"I?" methinks I can hear her exclaim — " I ? — who, from my
very soul, abhor all such paltry and childish distinctions ? "^Yhere
is the human being who estimates more highly whatever
superiority nature has bestowed, or more lowly the tnimpery
distinctions conferred by man '? "
It may be difficult to answer this challenge ; but will our
philosophical baroness tell us what is the feeling, and whence it
arises, which causes her to look upon it as an event alsohdeJij
■i}iij)osfiibIe, that her daughter Gertrude should join in the pursuits
and studies of Enpert Odentlial so tlioroughly, and with such
FAMILY praDE. 89
sincere participation and sympathy of heart and soul, that she
shonhl iit hist arrive at the conclusion, that — " She of living men
could love but him alone?"
AVhat is the feeling which makes such a conclusion appear
impossible to the baroness, and -whence does it arise? The
feeling can correctly receive no other name than peide — for it
can only arise from the deep conviction that the space dividing
the noble and the plebeian is too vast, too profound, too incal-
culably great, for any person in their senses to contemplate the
passing it as a thing possible.
That such Avas, in truth, the persuasion of ^Jadame von
Schwanberg, cannot be doubted ; and upon no other theory can
her conduct be explained or excused. Notwithstanding her
painfully-low estimate of her husband's intellect, his station as a
high-born nobleman, important to his country, both from his
wealth and his alliances, was recognised as fully by her as by
himself; and though she might have allowed that the over-
throwing the dynasty of the Emperor would be a crime more
awful in its consequences, she would have scarcely considered it
as more decidedly the reverse of rigid than any act by which the
pure nobility of such an escutcheon could be compromised.
Those who would declare that such a state of mind, in such a
Avoman, would be unnatural, blunder as much as a born-and-bred
citizen does in doubting the fact, that a thorough-bred sporting-
dog would fast, almost, if not quite, to death, rather than feed on
game. It is idle to call it unnatural.
If it be an art, it is *' an art that Nature makes," as she does
that by which the culture of the gardener can metamorphose a
llower.
The most satisfactory source of comfort in contemplating the
existence of such a fantastic vision, in such a mind as that of the
Baroness von Schwanberg, arises from remembering that Nature
gives us as ample powers for the inoculation of good as of evil
varieties ; and that, even at this present xow, with half the
nations of the earth trying to make mince-meat of each other,
without any one of them very clearly knowing why, "there's a
sweet little cherub sits perched up aloft," who is busily employed
in making many of us go in the right direction, though without
showing us exactly where it may lead us.
90 gehteude; oe,
CHAPTER XIV.
As it was by no means a difficult matter to excite in the mind
of the Baron von Schwanberg a feeling of admiration concerning
erery thing that he could call his own, the orderly arrangement
of the Schwanberg library, and the daily growing catalogue of
the volumes it contained, soon became a new, and favourite theme
for his eloquence ; and as it was evident that Gertrude listened to
him with more than usual interest, when he was expressing his
wonder and admiration at all that had been done in that depart-
ment, he went on admiring Eupert's extraordinary industry and
cleverness in the business, so warmly, that the baroness, on one
occasion, took an opportunity for saying, that she was almost
afraid the young man worked too hard, and that he scarcely
allowed himself sufficient time for air and exercise.
" Do you really think so, my dear lady?" exclaimed the baron,
with a most unusual degree of animation. "I should be very
sorry to let any of my people injure their health by over-fatigue
in my service ; and with respect to this excellent lad in particular,
I would rather permit the great work he is upon to be suspended
altogether, than that his health should suffer from his devotion to
it. We must never, under any circumstances, my dear lady,
permit ourselves to forget the enormous benefit he has conferred
upon us. In fact, there would be a very great impropriety in my
jjermitting an individual, whose name I caused to be specially
alluded to, nay, positively mentioned, in the service which my
influence with the church enabled me to command, in the chapel
of the castle ; there would decidedly be a very great impropriety
in my permitting a youth residing in my family under such
circumstances, to run the risk of injuring his health in the per-
formance of a task which I have assigned him, and which was
done in the hope of providing him with an honourable and
profitable employment, instead of doing him a serious injury."
The baroness, as was her wont, remained in the attitude of a
listener, till her noble husband had ceased to speak ; and then
she replied, that she agreed with him perfectly, and that it would
give her much pleasure to see so well-disposed and every way
deserving a lad, permitted, and indeed encouraged, to take a little
more exercise and amusement.
FAMILY PEIKE. 91
«
It SO chanced, that within an hour after this conversation had
taken phice, the baron and his danghter accidentally met in the
hall of the castle ; npon which, Gertrude stopped him, and said,
with great glee, "I am so very glad, dear papa ! for mamma tells
me that you are going to he so kind as to order dear, good Rupert
to walk about and amuse himself, now and then, instead of
staying in the house all day, as he does now, about the catalogue.
I never guessed that you had such a quantity of books, papa !
I really can hardly believe that the Emperor himself can have a
much larger library than you have. I think you will be aston-
ished to see the catalogue when it is finished. And the library is
looking so different! It is grown quite magnificent."
*' I am very glad to hear you say so, my dear love," he replied,
with a look of very great satisfaction. ''Magnificent is exactly
the word which I should like to have applied to every part of my
property ; for the remembrance that you are to inlierit it, my
dear child, gives everything a greater value and importance in my
eyes now than it ever had before. Come into the library with
me now, Gertrude. I should like to see what has been done
there."
The effect produced upon the noble master of the castle on en-
tering this fine room, arranged and decorated with equal taste and
industry as it now was, by the trio who for many weeks past had
devoted all their time and talents to its embellishment, was much
greater than they had either of them hoped to produce, and his
approbation was signified in a manner intended to be very grati-
fying to them all.
To his lady he made a speech of considerable length, signifying
his entire approval of everything she had done, and hinting, in a
whisper, not intended to reach the ears of Eupert, that however
well she might have been assisted by the lad whom he had so
fortunately fixed upon as his librarian, it was quite evident that
nothing but the taste and judgment of a person as nobly born as
herself, could have suggested the different alterations which had
given so noble an air to the apartment.
Ke turned to Gertrude, who was on the other side of him as he
said this, and added, " I now perfectly understand, my dear child,
what you meant when you said the room was magnificent. It is
magnificent, Gertrude, and your mother, as well as yourself, have
shown, on this occasion, as I am quite sure you will on all
others, the invariable result of being descendants from a noble
race."
This harangue was listened to with a smile, pretty equally
92 geetrude; or,
made up of satisfaction and fnn. She was exceedingly well
pleased at finding "dear papa" so perfectly contented with all
tlie bold innovations by which they had so greatly altered the
aspect of the room, and intinitely amused at the idea that these
alterations had been achieved by the ii's i/ierfice of a noble pedi-
gree.
Eut Gertrude had something more in her head at that moment,
than the powers of a noble pedigree or the beauty of a fine room ;
and having set her heart upon obtaining a very particular favour
from her dear papa, she permitted neither fun, nor anything else,
to turn her from her purpose ; and having respectfully waited till
he had completed his speecli, by the solemn repetition of his con-
viction, that he should consider himself as guilty of great impiety
could he doubt that it had been the especial purpose of Heaven
in bestowing strength and courage upon Hopert Odenthal, to save
the life of the heiress of Schwanberg, she quietly replied, "Yes,
papa, he must indeed have been very strong, and very courageous,
or he never could have done it ; and I have been thinking, papa,
that it would only be acting like yonr dear, kind self, if you were
to buy a nice little horse for poor Eupert, that he might have a
holiday sometimes, and ride out with us."
" Yon are a noble-minded, generous young lady, my dear
Gertrude," replied the baron, looking at her very approvingly;
" and if every high-born nobleman did his duty towards the race
from which he sprung, as scrupulously as I did mine, Gertrude,
when I took your mother for my wife, we should probably see
many more instances than we do of young ladies as high-minded
and generous as yourself. Your very proper suggestion shall be
immediately attended to, Gertrude ; and it would doubtless have
occurred to me before, as a proper thing to be done, had not the
multitude of affairs, which every man in my exalted position is
obliged to attend to, occupied me too completely to leave me as
much leisure as I would wish to attend to minor concerns."
So the nice little horse was bought for poor Rupert, who
thenceforward became not only as well mounted a cavalier as
could easily be found in the land wherein he dwelt, but a fearless
and graceful one into the bargain.
Eut if the gratitude of the baron thus led him, in the strength
and fearlessness of his gTeatness, to bestow favours upon the low-
born bov Avith no more caution than he would have thought
necessary in petting a poodle ; the baroness, on her side, displayed
a still more perilous want of forethought ; for whereas the baron
only mounted him upon a well-bitted little horse, the paces of
FAMILY rillDE. 9
Q
which mii'ht be displayed without danger to anyhody, his hidy
had the rashness not only to« enconrage by eyery means in her
poAyer the cultiyation of his fine and powerful intellect, but to
lead him, solely as it seemed for her own gratification, to display
in familiar, daily intercourse with hei'self and her youug daughter,
the yery brilliant faculties with which Xature had endowed him.
And this went on from mouth to month, and from year to
year, without any thought of possible mischief from it, eyer
entering her head for a moment !
But Gertrude was not, by any means, so iliovgltUess a child as
her mother imagined her to be. 80 much, indeed, did she think,
and so justly did she reason, that it is highly probable the danger
which now threatened would, to her, haye brought no peril at
all, had her own judgment been her only guide ; but it was not
so.
Had her father made it less eyident that he considered his
young secretary as no more belonging to the same class of beings
as himself, than was the horse on Ayhich he had mounted him,
neither the heart nor the intellect of Gertrude would haye
rebelled, as they no\y did, against the impious absurdity of so
classing him ; while on the other hand, she neyer would haye
yentured to place him, upon the authority of her own judgment
alone, so greatly aboye the generality of his fellow-mortals, as
she was now disposed to do.
In short, eyery indiyidual of the four who now formed the
domestic circle at Schloss Schwanberg, was in a false position, ex-
cepting only the young librarian himself.
He was permitted to eat at their table, because, as the baron
told him, his being nephew to the holy man who had been
appointed confessor to the castle, made it extremely fitting and
proper that he should pronounce grace at its owner's table ; and
haying once been told that he was to dine there, and for the
especial reason so stated, he thought no more about it, but took
it for granted, that it was perfectly right and proper that he
should do so ; and his common sense, to which he alone applied
for counsel on the occasion, made him feel that being thrown into
the domestic society of his patron's family, it was desirable that
he should, as much as possible, both in dress and demeanour,
assimilate himself to them.
As to the many yery busy, and also yery delightful hours,
which he passed in the great room on the other side of the castle,
he certainly found nothing at all likely to puzzle him in any of
them. The yocation for which he was expressly hired, seemed
94 geeteude; ok,.
to make him part and parcel of the library ; and as we are told,
that men are sometimes so placed, that " their talk is of bullocks,"
so with him, it was quite as inevitable that his talk should be of
books. And so it certainly was — and being so, it speedily became
more amusing and more interesting to the ill-matched baroness
than any she had listened to for years.
I^ever once did it occur to her as possible, that there could be
anything wrong or mischievous, in listening to the eager, ardent
criticisms of the intelligent lad, as he dashed on from one gifted
page to another. IS^ever once did it enter her head as a thing
l)08sihle^ that wh.at she listened to with pleased amusement, might
steal into the heart and soul of her young daughter with an effect
as lasting as it was delightful.
In short, a more false, or, at least, a more mistaken, position
than that of Madame de Schwanberg, when presiding over the
occupations of her quiet library, cannot easily be imagined.
As to the poor baron, his little greatness, and his great little-
ness, have already been dwelt upon too fully, to require any
further description here. But amidst all this blundering, it was
the unfortunate Gertrude who was the most likely to stumble
outright, for she was really led to believe that she was not
only displaying, but feeling, the very noblest sentiments, while
cherishing precisely the thoughts and feelings which loth her
parents would have the most deeply deplored, could they have
been made aware of them.
And on — and on — and on — went weeks and months, and the
noble inmates of Schloss Schwanberg took little heed of them.
Gertrude grew tall, and taller, and very tall ; but the eye which
first seemed to take note of this, as well as of the bright dawn of
the beauty which every day seemed bringing to perfection ; the
eye which first seemed to think this dawning beauty worthy of
especial note, was not within the castle walls, but seven miles
beyond them.
The young Count Adolphe von Steinfeld was the son and heir
of one of the noblest and richest of the neighbouring proprietors,
and was almost considered, even by the baron himself, as having
a right to associate with him on terms of equality.
This young Count Adolphe it was, whose eyes and heart first
did homage to the beauty of Gertrude von Schwanberg.
The two families had been upon friendly visiting terms before
Gertrude was born ; but it was not in the nature of the Baron
von Schwanberg to be intimate with any one, and nothing less
active and less daring in its nature than the " sweet passion of
• FAMILY TEIDE. 95
love," could even have led to an intercourse so nearly approach-
ing intimacy, as that which had lately grown up between the
castles of Schwanberg and Stcinfeld.
Love is not only active and daring, but wonderfully ingenious ;
not all the good qualities of the young Count Adolphe, and he
had very many such, would even have availed in obtaining for
him the easy access he now enjoyed to the library at Schwanberg,
if he had not continued to run up a very familiar and intimate
friendship with its young librarian.
I should, however, be doing both the young men injustice, if I
left it to be supposed that the feeling on both sides, which brought
them so frequently together, was not originally that of mutual
and very cordial liking; but it may be fairly doubted, if this
alone would so very frequently have caused Count Adolphe' s
steed to be stabled at Schwanberg, as was now the case.
This young son and heir of the wealthy and right noble Count
von Steinfeld was, in many respects, a good deal out of the ordi-
nary routine of character commonly found among the young
aristocracy of Southern Germany. Accident had made him a
scholar ; for it was to accident he owed the having been almost
wholly educated by an English tutor ; and his natui^al tempera-
ment had led him to be a reader ; a peculiarity less common in
his class and country, than in any other upon earth, who have
made equal advances, in other respects, towards civilization.
It was during a long riding excursion that these two young
men first fell into a conversation together, sufficiently long, and
sufficiently unrestrained, to make them both feel that they had
got hold of something out of the common way, and that they
should like to have a little more of it.
One must have been resident in such lands, and familiar with
their inhabitants, before any such freemasonry as this can be
comprehended.
In Southern Europe it is possible (and a good deal more than
possible) to live for years in habits of constant friendly association
with a great variety of well-born persons, moving in the very
highest society, without having your intelligence once called upon,
or in the least degree awakened, to the consciousness of being
in the society of persons an conrant of the age in which we
live.
To those (whether foreign or native) whom accident has
jostled out of this routine, every collision with persons who
have been equally lucky, is exceedingly agreeable ; and thus it
was with the highly-born Adolphe and the lowly-born Eupert.
96 GERTRrDE; OK,
!More than once in the course of that same ride, the stately
horse of the young Count might have been seen pacing with
enforced condescension beside the clever little steed of Eupert ;
and if the young plebeian was less startled, and less excited, by
the tone and pith of the young nobleman's remarks than his well-
pleased companion was by those he himself uttered, it was only
l:ecanse the relish with which one listens to truth, was less new
to him.
The consequence of this was, that the young C(mnt, upon
roining to Schloss Schwanberg, and inquiring for Hcrr Eupert
Odenthal, was shown into the library.
All that followed was so pretty nearly inevitable, that it
scarcely needs recounting.
^Vith all the tact of her charming manners, and all the kindness
of her womanly heart, the baroness immediately contrived to put
the two young men at their ease together, under circumstances
which, had the baron been present in her stead, would have been
exceedingly embarrassing ; but, while giving Adolphc a very cor-
^lial reception as a family friend, she took care to make it evident
that she understood his visit to be intended for Kuport ; a fact
which had been made evident to her by the servant, who had
proclaimed, when he announced him, that he inquired for the
Herr Eupert.
As to Gertrude, though this unwonted occurrence did not sug-
gest to her the necessity of "looking beautiful with all her
miiiht," she very civilly laid her book aside, and so far ioined in
the conversation as to listen to it, and even "to speak when she
was spoken to."
This was quite enough, and no great wonder, either, to convince
Count Adolphe that she was not only the most beautiful, but the
most intelligent girl he had ever seen; and what with the aspect
of the room, which set him longing for something like it at his
home, and wliat with the friendly kindness of the baroness, and
the unaffected ease and spirit with which Eupert sustained the
conversation (for, not having a particle of canity, the feeling of
shyness was, of course, unknown to him}, — what with all this
together, the Count Adolphe thought of little else, as he rode
home, than of the finding some good excuse for speedily repeating
hh visit, which most assuredly was, for some cause or other, by
far the most agreeable he had ever made in his life.
FAMILY PEIDE. 97
CHAPTER XY.
CoFXT Adolphe vox Stetxfeld was a warm-hearted, ardent-
tempered young man, with fewer faults than might have been
expected from one who had undergone so much of the spoiling
process, as handsome young sons, heirs, who have no younger
brothers to rival them, are usually exposed to.
It was decidedly a very strong proof of the goodness of his
nature, that, before he gave himself up wholly and entirely to the
"soft passion of love" tor the beautiful Gertrude, he determined
to find out whether the extremely probable circumstance of his
new friend Rupert's having fallen in love with her also, might
not already have taken place. This was the more generous,
because he was quite aware that he would himself be considered
as a match in every way desirable and proper, even for the heiress
of Schwanberg, whereas he could not doubt that it would be quite
sufficient for Rupert to be caught looking at her with the eyes of
affection, in order to ensure his being turned out of his present
paradise without an hour's delay.
But his perfect conviction that in thus thinking he made no
mistake, had a precisely contrary effect upon him, from what it
probably would have had upon most other people.
If he had believed himself as superior in talent, or even as
superior in the less important advantage of good looks, as he truly
believed himself to be the reverse, he would have been vastly
more inclined to take advantage of it, even at the cost of sacri-
ficing his newly-formed friendship to his newly-felt love ; but the
idea that, if both fairly weighed together, Rupert could only be
found wanting in weight of metal, was repugnant to him, even
though that metal was gold.
It required no great time to enable him to decide in^evocably
against running the risk which might endanger the happiness of
all, from any such rivalry ; but it took him rather longer, before
he could make up his mind as to what would be the best method
8
98 geeteude; ok,
of proceeding, in order to ascertain whether, in truth, Eupert
were as much in love as himself.
That he should have lived in the same house with Gertrude,
and escaped being so, certiiinly seemed to him to be pretty nearly
impossible ; but, nevertheless, he determined to have better au-
thority than this, before he decided upon what his own conduct
should be.
The result of all his meditations on the subject, was his writ-
ing and sending the following letter : —
" My deae Odexthal,
*' Though we have so well managed our pleasant rides
as to get more talk amidst our gallopings than, I believe, most
people could have done, and though the friendship thus began
between us took a very vigorous step onward during my uncon-
scionably long visit in the Schwanberg library yesterday, I still
feel that I want to know you better yet ; and I am inclined to
think that a good long tete-d-tete walk together, would be one of
the most agreeable modes of attaining my object. "NYhat say you ?
I know that you are not such an idle, useless fellow as myself
I don't believe I should have liked you so well if you
had been It must be for you, therefore, to fix the day and
houi' that will best suit your convenience for our ramble ; I shall
hold myself in readiness to meet you when and where you
please,
'' Believe me,
" Dear Odenthal,
'' Yery sincerely yours,
*' Adolphe Steixfeld."
The receipt of this note surprised Eupeii: Odenthal a good deal,
but it pleased him considerably more. He had been, for the last
year or two of his Kfe, much too busy a personage to Kave had
any time to spare for day-dreams ; but, had he indulged in such,
the offered friendship of such a man as the young Count von
Steinfeld, would decidedly have been of the number.
But though his service was a very easy one, he felt at that
moment more decidedly, perhaps, than he had ever before done,
that he was not (^uite so free a man as he might wish to be. ^ But
ere he had positively breathed a sigh as he remembered this, he
threw down his pen, with a smile, as he remembered, also, that
it was to the lady of the castle, and not to its lord, that it was
necessary to apply for permission to accept the very agreeable
proposal which the note contained.
FAMILY PEIDE. 99
It was with a flushed cheek, and a brightly sparlding eye, ihit
he approached his cver-kiud patroness, and placed the note in her
hand.
Ho had no sooner done so, than Gertrude, Avith her accustomed
unchecked imp;>tuosity, sprung from her own table to that at
which her mother was sitting.
" It is not a secret, I suppose, mamma, is it ?" said she, bending
over her mother's shoulder, with the very evident intention of
reading the note she held.
"Fie upon you! naughty Eve, as you are!" said her mother,
laughing. " You may perceive it is addressed to Mr. Odcnthal,"
she added, holding up the note so as to exhibit the address ; and,
therefore, it is Air. Odenthal's permission, and not mine, which is
necessary."
" Indeed, mamma!" said the young lady, bounding back to her
accustomed place still more vehemently than she had left it ; "I
have not the very slightest wish to force myself into ]Mr. Rupert's
confidence. TV'ill it be more discreet for me to leave the room ?
Or will it do, if I go down to the very farther end of it?"
"Let me read it aloud, Hupert — shall I?" said the greatly-
pleased Itadame de Schwanbcrg. " Silly child as she is, I think
it will give her almost as much pleasure as it does me ; and I am
quite sure it would, if she as well knew its probable importance
to you."
{She then read the note aloud, and addressing her daughter as
she gave it back to liupert, she said, "You see, Gertrude, that
we are not the only people in the world who find Rupert an
agreeable companion. But the messenger is Avaiting, my dear
boy. 8it down and write your answer."
"But you have not yet told me, dear madam, what that
answer is to be. AVhat will you give me leave to say to him ?"
' ' Oh, llupert ! if I were mamma, what a rage I should be in
with you!" exclaimed Gertrude, with cheeks as red as scarlet.
" Do you really think that mamma Avants to make a slave of you ?
Don't you feel that you hate him, mamma ? If I were in your
place, I am quite sure that I should!"
" jS'ot unless you misunderstood his application to me as com-
pletely after you had got into my place as you evidently do now,
Gertrude," replied the baroness; "our friend llupert might as
reasonably be accused of being a slave because he opened a door
for me, or offered me his arm in a walk, as because he consulted
me as to the best time of appointing Count Adolphe to meet
him."
8—2
100 GtliTEUUE; OE,
'• Oh! if that is all, mamma, it is all very right and proper ;
and, of course, I was a fool for supposing that liupert could mean
anything else."
"Suppose you name mid-day, to-morrow, llupert," said the
baroness, after meditating upon the subject for a moment; "and
you had better say in your note," she added, kindly, "that we
should be very glad to see him here to dinner afterwards, at four
o'clock."
Thus authorized to return precisely such an answer as he wished
to send, Rupert was not long in despatching his reply ; and this
being done, he ([uietly sat himself down to continue the employ-
ment upon which he had been occupied when this agreeable
interruption stopped him.
l^ut Gertrude seemed determined to atone for her cross fit, by
becoming so gaily frolicsome, as to render it impossible for any
one within reach of the sound of her voice to employ themselves
seriously.
" What is come to you, Gertrude ?" said her mother, laughing
with her, because it was impossible to resist her gaiety. "Upon
my word, you give us reason to suppose that you are beyond
measure delighted at the idea of seeing our agreeable young
neighbour at dinner, to-morrow ; and I cannot chide you for it, if
you are, for there are very few people that I like so well myself,
as this Count Adolphe."
"And I can go farther than that, mamma ! " replied the young
lady, with great energy ; ' ' for I can truly say, that I never in
mv whole life liked anv one so much."
Her mother looked at her earnestly for a moment, and during
that moment she certainly became more conscious tlian she had
ever been before, that Gertrude was no longer a child.
But neither by look or word did she betray the discovery she
had made, to either of her companions. She quietly resumed her
own employment, and Ptupert proceeded with his ; but Gertrude
liad less command of herself, and might have been seen, if her
companions had been at leisure to watch her, more occupied in
plucking the feathers from her gi^ey goose quill, than in writing
with it.
Nothing intervened to interfere in any way with the projects
which had been formed for the following day ; and with exemplary
puntuality to the hour named, the two young men met at the spot
indicated by Rupert, in reply to Count Adolphe's note.
The meeting was joyously cordial on both sides, and they set
forward on their projected ramble with as much satisfaction as if
FAMILY PEIDE. 101
the pedigree of the one was precisely on an equality with the
pcdigTee of the other.
Tor the first hour or so of their walk, it was Eupert who
seemed to lead the conversation; and many interesting themes
were touched, not one of which but might have furnished a
wider scope for interesting discussion than many a morning's
ramble could have allowed time for.
But at length, just as Paipert was waiting a reply to a some-
what bold speculation. Count Adolphe suddenly stood still, and
darting off from the subject they were upon, he exclaimed,
''What a lucky fellow you are, Eupert Odenthal I I envy you
that library ! I envy you the companions with whom you seem to
live there ! I really know no man living, whose existence seems
to pass so exactly as I would wish my own to do. There is but
one anxiety which could, I think, interfere to torment me in such
a situation."
"And what is that. Count?" said Eupert, with a smile, as
he thought of his right noble patron, the Baron von Schwan-
berg.
"^"ay," returned his companion, colouring. "I assure you
that the danger to which I am alluding has no mixture of jest in
it. I do really and truly think, friend Eupert, that if I spent as
many hours as you do in the society of the Baroness Gertrude, I
should be in gTeat danger of falling in love with her."
The sparkling eyes of Eupert again kindled into a smile.
" AVere such an adventure to befal me," he replied, "I should
most certainly consider it as a very terrible mishap ; but I don't
see why it should be so in your case."
" On account of the coutigiious estates, you mean, and all that
sort of stuff. Fie ! fie ! Eupert ! I did not expect to hear such
trash as that from you. Do you really think that I should con-
sider my happiness ensured by being married to Gertrude, at the
command of her father and mine?"
"Xo, indeed. Count Adolphe!" returned his companion; "I
think no such thing. But neither do I think, on the other hand,
that the well-pleased consent of both ought to be any di-awback
on your happiness."
"I did not exactly mean that, either," returned Adolphe,
colouring more perceptibly than before. "All I should want or
wish, would be, that they would let us alone. But what I want
most particularly to know at this moment is whether
you are in love with her yourself, Eupert?"
Eupert, in replying to this very important question, really and
102 , geetrude; oi?
J
truly did all lie could, both to look and spoak seriously, as he
answered, " Xo, my Lord Count. I am not!"
" Thank God !" exclaimed the young nobleman very fervently ;
" I am sure you would not deceive me, dear Rupert!" he added,
*' and, therefore, I welcome this very delightful assurance, with
the most perfect conviction of its truth. But how you have
escaped, is to me a perfect mystery ! Tell me, llupcrt, did you
ever see any one whom you thought more beautiful":'"
" I am almost afraid to answer you, dear Count !" said Rupert,
casting down his eyes, and assuming an aspect of gi'eat solemnity;
"but, at any rate, I will not take refuge in an untruth, in order
to propitiate your favour. Yes!" he added, "yes ! I have seen
two people "who, according to my judgment, are both handsomer
than the Baroness Gertrude von Schwanberg." And here he
stopped.
Count Adolphe raised his arms in an action of astonishment,
but this was accompanied by a smile, which plainly proclaimed
that his offence was forgiven.
"Go on ! " said the Count.
I'pon which Rupert meekly bent his head, and pronounced, in
a deprecatory tone, "I think the baroness, her mother, is hand-
somer."
"And the other?" said Adolphe, with rather a contemptuous
shake of the head.
"The other is a little girl, whom you have probably never
seen, my Lord Count ; for she is the daughter of a poor woman,
who lives in the "spillage of v/hich mv uncle Alaric is the
priest."
"And you are not speaking in jest, Rupert?" said the young
nobleman, gravely.
"1^0, indeed, I am not!" returned Rupert, with all the sim-
plicity of truth. " As to our baroness at the castle, I scarcely ever
look at her without thinking that she is the exact model of what
a poet might fancy as the lovely sovereign of some enchanted land.
Some of Spenser's descriptions remind me of her. I do not think
her daughter will ever be so exquisitely graceful as she is
And as to my little nymph of the fountain — for it is when fetch-
ing water from the fountain that I have generally seen her — she
is more like a picture, or a dream, than anything made of flesh
and blood. The eyes of your young baroness are very much like
the eyes of her mother, and they are, therefore, exceedingly
h-.mdsomo ; but you must see my nymph of the fountain before
yo-.i can understand, Jiow beautiful eyes may be."
FAMILY PEIDE. 103
"Yes!" returned Adolphe, rather solemnly; ''eyes may
assuredly be very beautiful ; but what a providential arrange-
ment it is, friend Paipert, that the judgment of the eyes of those
who look, varies as much as the beauty of the eyes looked at. It
is long since I felt as light-hearted as I do at this moment, for to
tell you the honest truth, I was desperately afraid that you too
might be in love with this peerless young Gertrude. And yet,
my good friend, a moment's consideration ought to be enough to
suggest the heavy fact, that although she may not be in love with
you, nor you with her, yet nevertheless it does not follow as -a
necessary consequence, that she will therefore some day be in love
with me ! IS'ay, how do I know that I may not at this present
moment, be the object of her peculiar dislike ? Gracious Heaven I
"What a dreadful thought ! And yet my common sense tells me
that it is quite as likely that it should be so, as not. ..." And
having uttered these terrible words, in a tone of unmistakeable
sincerity, the agitated young man suddenly quitted the arm of his
companion, and throwing himself on the turf beside the path,
buried his face in his hands.
"It certainly is a strange choice, Count Adolphe, that has put
it in my power to give you hope on such a subject as this," said
Eupert, gaily throwing himself on his knees beside him ; " but so
it is, and that too, without any breach of confidence on my part.
But when your letter to me was brought into the library yesterday
morning, my ever kind friend and patroness, the baroness, ex-
pressed her pleasure at such an unequivocal proof of your amiable
readiness to forget the distance which station places between us,
and spoke of you generally, my good friend, in the terms wliich
you so well deserve. Whereupon, the young baroness, Gertrude,
blushing like a new-blown rose, exclaimed, with an earnest
energy, of which I would fain give you an idea if I could, ' I can
go farther than that, mamma ; for I can truly say, that I never
in my whole life, liked any one so much.' Does that satisfy you,
Count?"
"Satisfy me I" exclaimed the delighted young man, springing
up. " Did she really say this, Eupert? But I know she did, for
you are incapable of deceiving me."
"Indeed I am, dear Count," replied Eupert, gi'avely. " If I
know myself, I am incapable of deceiving you in any way ; and
trust me, in a case where your happiness is so deeply concerned,
I would not only be true, but cautious also. But my memory has
not failed me, dear Adolphe ! She spoke the words with even
greater energy than I have repeated them ; and her mother was
104 geeteude; oe, ^
evidently conscious of this, for she positively started, and blushed
too, almost as brightly as her daughter."
I will not attempt to describe the state of happiness produced
on the young Count by this observation. He seemed to walk on
air ; nor was his reception, on returning to Schwanberg, at all
calculated to check the hopes which it had created.
The baron was as courteous as a baron so very solemn could be ;
the baroness was all genuine kindness, and the blooming Gertrude
went as far as it was possible for a well-behaved young lady to
go, in making it evident to the guest that she liked very much to
see him there.
CHAPTEE XVI.
OxcE fairly convinced that he had no rival to fear in Rupert,
and that the fair object of his passion was by no means disposed
to frown upon him, the course to be pursued became equally
hopeful and easy to the young lover. In the first place, as
in duty bound, he requested a private interview with his
father.
The Count von Steinfeld was in many respects an amiable and
estimable gentleman ; and if his attachment to his son (his only
son) had something approaching to fanaticism in it, the fine
qualities, and excellent conduct of the young man, oftercd a great
excuse for it. The revenues of Count Steinfeld were very nearly,
if not fully, equal to those of his neighbour, the Earon von
Schwanberg ; and his nobility as unblemished, though not, per-
haps, of so high antiquity. The hopes of the young Adolphe,
therefore, had nothing deserving the imputation of presumption
in them ; but there is so much of true timidity for ever mixed
with true love, that it was not without trepidation that the young
man presented himself before his father, to beseech his consent
to his ofi'ering his hand to Gertrude.
Now the only feature in the business in the least likely to
check the satisfaction of Count Steinfeld on hearing this proposi-
tion, was the recollection that he was himself but just above forty
years old, and that his son was not yet twenty. His high rank
FAMILY PRIDE. 105
and ample fortune had produced in him an effect diametrically
different to what similar causes had produced on the Baron von
Schwauberg ; for whereas the baron had found it so difficult to
discover a lady in all respects deserving the honour of being his
wife, that he had nearly reached the age of fifty before he accom-
plished it, the Count had fallen desperately in love when he was
about the same age as his enamoured son was now ; and though
he could not jjlead his own example as a warning, for he had
been very particularly happy both as a husband and a father, yet
still he felt that there were some rational objections against such
very early marriages.
The first effect of Adolphc's solemn proposal was to make his
father laugh ; whereupon the young man blushed still deeper than
before.
"Is there anything ridiculous, sii', in my selection?" said he,
with very considerable dignity.
'' No, indeed, Adolphe!" returned his gay father, still laughing.
"If you have really made up your mind that you are in want of
a wife, I really do not think that you could have chosen better."
Somewhat mollified and consoled by this assurance, Adolphe
replied, almost with a smile ; " Then may I ask why you laugh
at me?"
" ^N'ot at you, my dear boy My dear man, I mean. Xot
at you, Adolphe ! Your choice is an admirable one, in all ways.
I only laughed at thinking what a lot of dowagers there will be
in a few years, if your progeny follow our example."
" You were very fortunate, my dear sir, in meeting my mother
at an age, which was likely to ensure you a long life of happiness.
But at any rate, my dear father, my choice can involve no conse-
quences which should lead you to object to it as imprudent in a
pecuniary point of view. The Baroness Gertrude is an only child,
and her father is already an old man."
" True ! quite true, Adolphe," replied his father ; adding, in a
tone which had nothing of jesting in it, " Woo her, and win her,
my dear son ! Depend upon it your happiness shall find no im-
pediments from me. If it be settled, as I think it should be, that
vou should have an establishment of youi' own, I shall be ready
to double whatever income the baron may think proper to settle
on his daughter."
It may be easily predicted by what I have stated, that no time
was lost by Adolphe in ascertaining whether his friend Paipert
was right in believing that he had made a favoiu-able impression
on the heart of the young Gertrude.
106 geeteude; or,
The dinner which had succeeded to their morninc^ walk, showed
her ever ready to listen when he spoke, and to show, moreover,
Ly her replies, that she had listened with pleasure ; and ho de-
served very c:reat credit for the self- command which enabled him
to say farewell when he left her, without uttering a word that
might lead her to guess, that before he saw her again he would
probably have asked, and obtained permission, from both their
fathers, to kneel before her, and ask for her hand in marriage.
The interview with his own father, which has been already
described, took place early on the following morning ; and within
half-an-hour afterwards, he was galloping over the three or four
miles which divided the two mansions. He had the good luck of
meeting his friend Ptiipert at the distance of a live minutes' walk
from Schloss Schwanberg ; whereupon he sprang from his horse,
and throwing the reins over the saddle, he suffered the docile
animal to follow him, while he profited by the meeting, by making
jlupert understand that he came to offer his hand to Gertrude
with the full consent of his father.
"Bravo!" cried Rupert, joyously; "I wish you joy with all
my heart, for I am neither so blind nor so dull as not to think our
young baroness very charming, though not quite so beautiful as
her mother. But we must manage a Ute-a-Ute for you at once,
Sir Count, somehow or other, for the beauty of the mother will
not atone for the inconvenience of her presence at such a mo-
ment."
''Good heaven! Xo!" cried the lover, in a tone which be-
trayed great perturbation. " Manage this for me, Eupert, and I
u'ill cause your name to be specially mentioned in the castle chapel
the first day I am the master of it."
" jS^ay, traitor!" replied llupert, laughing, ''if you turn my
own jokes against me, I will so manage as to bring the mighty
baron himself to be present at the very moment you are making
your proposal!"
A little coaxing, however, so effectually softened the heart of
llupert, that he not only undertook to promise that the baron
should not appear, but also that he would invent some means or
other of causing the baroness to leave the room immcdiatelv. It
is not necessary to describe the gratitude of the lover on receiving
this promise; suffice it to say, that it was kept, and that Adolphe
Steinfeld and Gertrude Schwanberg very speedily found them-
selves Ute-d-tete in the Schwanberg library.
The reception which Gertrude had given to the young Count
upon his entrance, was by no means calculated to discoui-age him ;
FAMILY PETDE. 107
for it was with a smile, not only bright and beautiful, but too
eloquently expressive of real pleasure to be mistaken.
The young' man lost no time, but had explained the object of
his visit, with equal eagerness and grace, within a few moments
after the successful manoeuvring of his friend had placed him
tete-d-tete with the young baroness.
Getrude, too, on her part, displayed more self-possession and
propriety of demeanour during these agitating moments, than
might have been reasonably expected from so young a girl. Thr.t
they wi:ee agitating moments, was proved by the deep blush
which suffused her beautiful face, and by a tremor in her voice,
which reduced it almost to a whisper.
"Your attachment. Count Adolphe," she said, "would do
honour to a much worthier object than such a childish creature
as I am ; but my esteem for you is too sincere to permit my
pleading my youth as an objection to your addresses; and I will
say to you now, what I am quite sui^e I should say, under similar
circumstances, were I many years older. I was but seventeen my
last birthday, Count Adolphe ; but, if I were of full age, I should
tell you that I refer you wholly to my father for your answer.
It is not, believe me, because I have any doubts of your merit, or,
on that point at least, any great doubt of my own judgment ; but
people of our station of life have duties to fulfil, which may not
be neglected with impunity. My own case, as you must be aware,
is a peculiar one. I have learnt, even from my dear mother her-
self, that my father's disappointment at not having a male heir
has been bitterly felt by him ; and I think that I can never be
grateful enough for the tender afFcction which seems almost to
have reconciled him to his disappointment. The only adequate
return I can make for this affection, is referring myself implicitly
to him on such an occasion as the present."
"May I see him now?" said the impatient young man, more
inclined to bless his noble birth and broad acres at that moment
than he had ever been before.
Gertrude answered him with a blushing smile, which made him
forgive the delay she proposed.
" Xo ! — not to-day, Count Adolphe ! Depend upon it, I know
best. Let it be to-morrow, at this same horn-, if you will : imd
even so, he may think you, perhaps, over-hasty. Oh ! what a
little time ago it seems since we were both children!"
"And do you really insist upon my waiting till to-morrow?"
said the young man.
" Yes," she replied, holding out her hand, in token of farewell.
108 geeteude; oe,
He saw that she was in earnest ; and he not only took the hand,
but ventured to kiss it, as he said, ''Farewell, then, dearest
Gertnide ! — farewell till to-morrow ! "
8he turned her head only as she repeated this farewell. . . . But,
on the whole, he was far from being dissatisfied by the interview;
and never in his life before, had he contemplated with so much
satisfaction the stately aspect of his father's noble residence as he
did upon returning to it now, with the comfortable belief that
the Baron von Schwanberg could not be insensible to its splendour,
or ignorant of the ample revenues by which it was sustained.
T^o sooner had the door of the library closed behind him, than
Gertrude reseated herself, with the look and manner of one who
had been sufficiently agitated to make solitude and re])ose very
welcome. She did not, however, permit herself to enjoy either
very long, but, hastily rising, began seeking amidst the miscella-
neous objects which covered her own particular table, and selecting
from them a very tiny volume, put it into her pocket, and left the
room.
CHAPTER XYII.
It was to the apartment in which her father generally dozed
away the interval between his heavy breakfast and his before-
dinner ride, that Gertrude now betook herself ; and, although he
certainly looked more than half asleep, she approached him with
a sort of resolute step, that plainly showed that it was her pur-
j^ose to arouse him.
" Are you at leisure for me to talk to you a little, papa?" said
she ; " for I have something I want very much to say to you."
" I am not quite sure that I could find leisure at this moment
to converse with any one else, my dear Gertrude ; but you well
know that I always contrive to find it for j'ou."
''I well know, my dear father, that you are always kind and
indulgent to me, even when I come to you like an idle child, to
talk to vou for my own amusement. But the case is different
now. I am come to tell you, even before I mention it to my
mother, that the young Count Adolphe von Steinfeld has made me
an ofi'er of marriage."
FAMILY PEIDE. 109
" You have behaved, as you always do, with the greatest possi-
ble propriety in bringing this intelligence to your father, to the
head of your own noble house, Gertrude, before you communicated
it to any one else. I am sorry," he added, after a pause — *' I am
sorry, Gertrude, that the young man has not shown an equal sense -
of what was due to me on such an occasion. However, I pre-
sume he must be forgiven on the score of love. I am qnite ready
to believe, Gertrude, that he is too much enamoured to have
entirely the command of his own judgment."
"You are very kind, papa, to judge him so leniently. I am
quite aware that he ought not to have spoken to me on the subject
till he had obtained your leave to do so."
"Eight again, my dear, as you always are," said the baron,
taking her hand. " I am proud of my daughter, and I have
reason to be so. However, Gertrude, we must not be too hard on
the young man, either. You are certainly a very fair excuse, my
dear, for a little blundering at such a moment. Moreover, it is
impossible that I can deny the value of the compliment he has
paid you. The only son of my distinguished neighbour, the
Count von Steinfeld, is a very great match lor any lady. The
estate is a very noble one, and perfectly unencumbered ; and,
moreover, it is contiguous to mine. The two estates, when
united, would certainly make one of the finest properties in the
country, my dear Gertrude ; and I confess to you, that I think it
would be difficult to find a more eligible connection for you."
Gertrude, who had seated herself, and was placed immediately
opposite to her father, with her eyes fixed on the carpet, remained
silent for a short interval after he had ceased speaking, and then,
almost in a whisper, repeated the word, " connection V
" Ah, Gertrude ! " said her father, relaxing so far from his
usual stately demeanour as to smile; "ah, Gertrude! I suppose
your young heart is too much interested for the young man him-
self, to permit your giving a single thought to his position in life.
Is it not so ? "
"Xo! my dear father! no! It is not so," replied Gertrude,
with a degree of earnestness that had something almost solemn
in it. " Can you believe that your daughter can be so lamentably
the slave of any passion, as to make her unmindful of the race
from which she sprung? Can you forget the hours we have
passed together, in which you have explained to me tlie pure
nobility of your blood, and of the higher station still which the
family of my mother holds ? If yo« forget this, dear father, I
do not; and so deeply have your words and your feelings been
110 GEETHrDE; OR,
imprcPSGcI npon my heart, that I believe myself utterly incapahle
of 1( eliiiG; for any man such an attachment as a wife oui:ht to feel
for her husband, unless he were one whom my piide might select
as well as my love."
And then she slopped, again turning her eyes upon the ground,
which, while speaking, had been earnestly fixed upon her father's
face.
' ' When I listen to such words from your lips, my noble-
minded Gertrude, it is like listening to the sound of my own
thoughts ! " replied the baron in a sort of ecstacy that positively
made his lips tremble ; " and deeply indeed should I despise
myself, could I in the choice of a matrimonial connection for you,
suffer any consideration of any kind to interfere with what we
owe to noble blood and high alliances. But this young man, my
sweet Gertrude, is a nobleman of high birth, nor do I remember
to have heard that his race has ever been degraded by an ignoble
marriage ! "
'' But has it ever been embellished, my dear father, by such
alliances as I have traced in our own pedigree?" returned Ger-
trude solemnly. "Have I not myself heard you say," she con-
tinued in the same tone, "that instead of marrying early, as
most men of your rank and fortune are apt to do, have I not
heard you say that you waited till what is generally considered
as an advanced age for matrimony, solely for the pui-pose of
giving yourself an opportunity of improving your magnificent
escutcheon ? And how deeply do I feel indebted to you for this !
There are bearings on the AYolkendorf shield, of which sovereign
princes may boast with pride."
" You speak nothing but the truth, my daughter, in saying
so," replied the baron, with the quiet but dignified demeanour of
one conscious of merit of no common class.
" And while you acknowledge this, my dearest father," re-
sumed the beautiful heiress ; " can you not sympathise with the
feeling which leads me to plead for time, before I engage myself
to any man ? AVhen you remember how young I still am, I
think you must allow that I have enough time before me to
justify my pleading for some few years' delay, before I resign the
dignified position I hold as your daughter and heiress, in order
to become the wife of any man whose pedigree is less illustrious
than your own."
" Admirable ! admirable young creature ! " exclaimed the
baron, " most safely may you be trusted in this matter, and I do,
and will trust to you implicitly. Fear not, Gertrude, that I
FAMILY PEIDE. . Ill
should evrr urge you to marry any one whose escutcheon you
could not explain to your children with as good effect as I have
explained mine to you. But are you quite sure, my dear love,
that this might not be the case if you accepted the hand of Count
Adolphe von Steinfeld ? I really do not remember to have heard
of any degrading alliance contracted by that family."
*' Perhaps not, papa," replied Gertrude. ''Degrading is a
very strong epithet, and I confess to you that the mere fact of
their not having degraded themselves by their alliances, would
not be enough to satisfy me. I have sometimes thought, papa,"
she resumed, after a short pause, "I have sometimes thought,
that I knew a way by which I could very easily decide whether
any one who proposed to me, had any right to hope for an alliance
by maiTiage with your family or with that of my mother."
''And what way is that, my noble child? " eagerly demanded
the baron.
"T^^hy, by just going carefully through the pages of the
Almanack de Gotha. There is one member of your family
mentioned in it about seventy or eighty years ago, I think, on
the occasion of one of the daughters forming a matrimonial
alliance with a relative of a reigning duke ; and there are no less
than three of mamma's remote ancestors, whose names are to be
found there in the same way. Xow it seem's to me, that as I am
thus honoured on both sides of my house, my name also ought
to find its way, by means of marriage, into the same august
memorial."
'' I would, indeed, wish that so it should be," said the baron,
solemnly ; his T 'hole form seeming to dilate as his daughter thus
fed him with the food he loved. '* I willingly agree to accept of
this as a criterion. But are you quite sure, Gertrude, that our
neighbour, Count Steinfeld, has never been happy enough to find
his way to the pages of this ennobling record ? His estate is a
very fine one, and perfectly unemcumbered, which is a circum-
stance which, I believe, very often leads to advantageous
marriages."
Gertmde did not immediately reply, but she put her hand into
her pocket, and drew thence the tiny volume, which she had
taken from one of the library tables.
"I have examined this book, papa, very carefully, from the
first page to the last," she said; " and I pledge you my word,
that the Count Steinfeld is not fortunate enough to have found a
place there."
''Enough, my dearest love," replied the baron; "I have
112 gertkude; ok.
>
pledged my word to you, Gertrude, that I will trust to your own
discretion in this matter. You are as yet, as you well observe,
extremely young ; and with your birth and fortune, to say
nothing of your rather striking personal attractions, I certainly
feel that I need be in no hurry to part with my daughter."
" You have made me very happy, my dear father, by trusting
me to my own discretion in the important business of marriage,"
she replied; "I shall not be in a hurry, dear papa! There is
no reason Avhatever to render it desirable that I should be. Your
daughter really ought not, child as she is in age, to be married
to the first boy who may happen to fancy that he likes her ; or
to one who may happen to think that he should like to obtain
possession of the Baron von Scwhanberg's castles and domains.
"We are very happy as we are, dearest papa ! and if we are wise,
we shall make up our minds to remain so for many happy years
yet, unless, indeed, some one were to propose, who might place
my name in this dear little book ! "
" You deserve to be ni)/ daughter, my high-minded Gertrude;
and I flatter myself that I am not altogether unworthy of being
your father ! " returned the baron, fervently.
"But you must not leave me yet, my beloved child!" he
added, seeing that she had risen as if to quit the room ; you
regally must tell me, and tell me precisely, my dearest Gertrude,
in what way you would wish me to dismiss this young man. I
should be very sorry to offend either him or his family. "\Miat
3'ou say about the Almanack is unanswerable ; and God knows I
am the last man in the world, my love, to disregard such an
observation, made, too, in so truly noble a spirit ! But it would
be difficult to explain all this to him. AVhat do you think I had
better say, my dear Gertrude ? "
"I am not very well versed in such affairs as yet, papa,"
replied the young baroness, gravely ; " but the only child of the
Baron Schwanberg is not likely to escape proposals of this sort ;
and, therefore, dear father, I would recommend you to decide at
once, upon the manner in which you will think it best that your
answers should be given."
** Certainly, my dear! certainly! Toothing can be more right
and sensible than wluit you say. But it won't do, you know,
my dear, for me to learn by heart a form of words about it,
because it cannot always be the same, my dear Gertrude. For
if you were the daughter and heiress of a king, you must be
married at some time or other, you know ; and then, my love, as
your own good sense must tell you, the answer must be different."
FAMILY PEIDE. 113
"Yes, papa, I am a^rare of that," she replied, in the qnict
accent which implies assnnicd conviction. " Ent we are agreed,
yon know, in thinking that there is no occasion for ns to be in a
hurry about it. A young lady in my position ought to be allowed
time to see a little of the world, before she exchanges tlie
immense advantages of such a position for any other
less than regal."
"Quite true! Most perfectly true! And it is a sentiment
worthy of yourself, my darling Gertrude ! But still, you know,
dearest, I should not exactly like to say that to Count Adolphe.
Think about it, my love, and let me know the result of your
thoughts. I know that I have very considerable command of
language myself, but, nevertheless, I think you might be abl& to
assist me."
" On such occasions, my dear father," replied Gertrude, looking
a little alarmed ; " I should think the most concise method would
be the best, and I am quite sure it would be the kindest. It will
be quite enough to say that you cannot accept his proposal, and
that you hope he will very soon forget having made it ; for that
you should be extremely sorry to lose him as an acquaintance and
friend, and so would your family also."
""Well then, my dear love, that is just what I will say; and
it sounds so very civil and kind, that I think he cannot be
offended."
"Quite impossible, dear papa!" replied Gertrude, moving
towards the door with a quick step. " Good bye !"
But before she had passed through the said door, she was
recalled by the voice of the baron, who, in rather a loud key,
articulated: —
' ' Come back, Gertrude ! Come back for one short moment, my
dear love, I must beg of you ! That won't quite do, either, Ger-
trude ! It is so very abrupt, my dear child ! So very much like
what any other person might say — any ordinary person I mean —
and, ther(^fore, you see, my dear, I don't think it can be quite the
proper thing for me to say."
Gertrude, of course, stepped back, as in duty bound ; but she
looked exceedingly vexed.
" Then if you cannot find words to refuse him, papa, I suppose
I must marry him, notwithstanding all the reasons I have assigned
against it."
And again she turned to leave the room.
"Xo, Gertrude! Ko!" said the baron, in his most pompous
tone. " It shall never be said, that I gave my daughter and sole
9
114 gekteude; oe,
heiress to a man I did not approve, solely becanse I did not know
how to refuse him. Give me that little book, if you please. My
best answer will be, the holding this book in my hand, and saying
(after I have expressed a great deal of personal regard for him) :
JSfo man, Count Adolpke, can become the husband of ony daughter
loiili my consent^ ivhose family have not yet found a place hereP
Gertrude blushed to the very roots of her hair, as she listened
to him ; and for some seconds she remained perfectly silent. She
then drew a long breath, as if she had struggled with herself, and
had conquered some feeling which had impeded her reply ; and
then she said, ''Yes, papa. Perhaps that would be the best
answer you could give."
And having said this, she waited for no farther rejoinder, but
hastened back to the door, and left the room.
CHAPTEE XYIII.
Before that eventful day was over, Count Adolphe contrived
to seek, and to find his friend Eupert.
The painful state of suspense in which the reply of Gertrude,
and her reference to her father, had left him, could in no direction
have found anything so nearly approaching relief and consolation,
as in the long walk through the neighbouring forest, which they
then took together. Eupert was still sanguine as to the answer
he was likely to receive ; but the lover himself was much less so.
*' In some respects you ought to know her a great deal better
than I do," said the anxious Adolphe ; " and yet I think, that as
concerns the all-important question, it is I who am right, and you
who are wrong."
"It may be so, clear Count," replied Eupert, gravely; ''for
most surely I have little, or rather no means of judging correctly
on such a subject. A\Tiat I told you, however, was perfectly true.
I can, at least, be certain, as far as having accurately repeated the
words I heard her say about you. Farther, dear friend, I cannot
go ; for if words are uttered with two meanings, I think I am
quite as likely as you can be to give them the wrong interpreta-
tion, instead of the right."
The most anxious hours, however, pass away as rapidly as the
FAMILY PRIDE. 115
most deli c^-htf 111 ones, if we could Lut teach ourselves to believe
it; and lliough the interval appeared immeasurably long, the
momeiit for appearing- before the august liaron von Sehwanberg
seeme;! to have come all too soon, when it arrived at last. Count
Adolphe was, upon most occasions, a very fearless, stout-hearted
young man ; but, despite his valour, he was very considerably
agitated when the moment arrived at which he was to request
admission to the presence of the always sublime, but now posi-
tively awful, Baron von Schwanberg.
Eut having made this request, he was at least spared all farther
waiting ; for he was at once shown into the room in which stood
the most luxraious arm-chair which the mansion could boast, and
which, therefore, had long become the favourite dozing room of
its master.
He rose from his chair as his young visitor approached, and
extended a hand to him with so very condescending a bow, that
the Count Adolphe felt his hopes most agreeably sti'engthened ;
and it was, therefore, with more firmness and courage than he
had himself dared to hope for, that he avowed his attachment,
and besought permission to offer his hand to the young baroness.
IsTobody who had been half-a-dozen times in the company of
the Baron von Schwanberg, could doubt that the fij'st words he
uttered would be prefaced by a sonorous "he-hem!" and the
sound of this, on the present occasion, though it had, perhaps,
something rather more than usually solemn in it, did not, there-
fore, greatly dismay the young suitor ; but when it was followed
by the drawing from his pocket a richly bound little book, which
he held between his hands, and bowed over, with a sort of mys-
terious reverence, the young man knew not what to think, and
almost began to doubt whether he had made himself clearly
understood.
At last, however, the great man spoke, and uttered these
words :
"Xo man. Count Adolphe, can become the husband of my
daughter, with my consent, whose family have not yet found a
place here."
^ Xow, it is certainly extremely probable that the majority of
highly-born young Germans know the Almanack de Gotha"^ by
sight, foi- it is, in its ordinary form, a queer-shaped little book,
and easily recognised ; but it so happened, that Adolphe Steinfeld
did not recognise it ; and he stared at this strange, and to him
perfectly unintelligible appeal, yqyj much as if the noble baron
had ansvrered him in Greek,
9-2
116 geetkude; oe,
A silence, which appeared alarmingly long to the lover, fol-
lowed ; but as he happened to have so expressive a countenance
that even the slow baron perceived that he had not been under-
stood, this silence rather assisted the denouement than delayed
it.
''Is it possible, young man," said he, ''that you do not under-
stand me ? Is it possible that you do not know this book when
you see it? This book, sir, is the 'Almanack de Gotha !' "
" Oh, yes, sir!" replied Adolphe, " I have often seen it. But
what has that book to do with the business which has brought
me here ? Surely I have not made myself understood."
" Pardon me. Count Adolphe von Steinfeld ! You have made
yourself very clearly understood ; and it is now necessary that I
should make myself equally intelligible. Perhaps you are not
aware that this volume, small as it is, contains not only the pedi-
grees of all the reigning dynasties of the earth, but records also
the names of all those noble persons who are in any way con-
nected with them ? Both my own family, and that of the noble
lady my wife, may boast of this honour ; and no man, as I had
the honour of telling you before, can become the husband of my
daughter, with my consent, whose family have not found a place
HEEE."
Count Adolphe looked at him steadily for a moment. Perhaps
he was speculating upon the possibility of his being in jest; but
if this idea occurred, it did not last ; for this moment being past,
the young man thanked him for having spared him the annoyance
of uncertainty, by the unconquerable nature of the obstacle to
which he had referred ; and then, taking his hat from the table
on which he had placed it, he made a low bow, and left the
room.
He paused for a moment in the great hall, to decide whether
he should ask for his horse ... or for his friend, Eupcrt. At
length, however, he decided upon the latter ; and having made
his presence known by aid of the door-bell, he said he should be
glad to see Mr. Rupert Odenthal, if he were at leisure to come to
him.
"The Herr Rupert is in the library, my Lord Count," replied
the servant; "shall I show your Lordship thither?"
" Kg !" replied the rejected lover, rather abruptly. "I wish
to see him here, if he can come to me."
On this, the servant disappeared, and Rupert obeyed the
summons which had been conveyed to him, with as little delay
as possible.
FAMILY PllIDE. 117
" Can you walk with me part of my way home, Rupert ? " said
Count Adolpbc. "If you can, I shall prefer Avalking, and will
send a servant hither for my horse."
" Certainly, I think I can walk with you," replied his friend;
"but wait a moment, while I say one word to the baroness."
"I had rather not wait here, my good friend," replied the
Count, with a smile. "I will go walking on slowly towards
home, and you will follow me, if you can."
AYhereupon Eupert gave an assenting nod, and they parted ;
but, within five minutes after, Adolphe heard a step behind him,
whereupon he turned round, and in another moment the two
friends were slowly proceeding together, linked arm-in-arm, the
one speaking, and the other listening, in a way that showed them
both to be very deeply interested in the subject-matter of the
discourse.
" Good day, Eupert ! " were Adolphe's first words.
E-upert nodded his head in reply.
"I am cured, Eupert," was Adolphe's second speech.
"The devil you are!" was Eupert' s reception of this, uttered
in a tone of dismay.
"How much the devil may have to do with it, my good
fiiend, I am not certain; but not much, I should think, for,
altogether, the work is a good work, and I am my own man
again."
" Explain ! dear Adolphe, explain ! Do you mean to say that
you are no longer in love with the Baroness Gertrude?"
"Perhaps I begin to doubt if I ever was very much in love
with the daughter of our thrice-noble neighbour; perhaps you
are right, and that the fact of this unfortunate young lady's being
the daughter of that insane old booby, is, and ought to be, reason
good against any one being in love with her."
" I never said so. Count," replied Eupert, in a tone of indig-
nation. " I think her very charming, and I know her to be
very excellent ; but one cannot — at least, / cannot — fall in love
with the first pretty and good young lady that one sees. But
this is all idle wandering. Do tell me, and in an intelligible
manner, if you can, what has happened to you."
" I will, if I ccui,^^ replied the Count; "and the condition is
but reasonable ; for how is a man to make that appear intelligible
in relation, which, when it occurred, had the very closest re-
semblance to a sort of obscure insanity ? . . . But wait a moment,
Eupert, and I will act the scene, and this will give you a clearer
idea of what has just passed, than any narration of mine could
118 GEETHrDE; OE,
do. . . . 1^0 w, then, just sit you down there, upon that fallen
tree, and I will sit down upon this one. . . . You don't happen
to have a book in your pocket, do you, Eupert?"
*• The chances are in favour of it," replied the young librarian,
laughing. "You know my vocation. Count! Some of them
generally stick to me, if they happen to be small ; " and, so say-
ing, he thrust his hand into his pocket, and drew thence a
miniature edition of " La Fontaine's Fables."
" Selected by Fate, on purpose to assist my exhibition! " cried
Adolphe, seizing it. " Only you must be pleased to fancy it a
great deal more thick, and a good deal more stumpy. So ! !N'ow,
then, remember, if you please, that you are the enamoured
Adolphe von Steinfcld, and that I am the noble Baron von
Schwanberg."
" Go on! " said E-upert, placing himself in the most touching
attitude which the seat assigned him would permit, and assuming
an expression of countenance admirably calculated to suggest the
idea of a mental struggle between Love and Reverence, Hope and
Fear.
" Yes ! " exclaimed Adolphe, " that is the way I looked at him
— at least, I hope so — for that is the way I intended to look.
Eut, now, mark me ! I flatter myself that you perceive at once
my utter contempt and indifference for you and your looks. My
thoughts are here, sir ; here, in this sacred little stumpy volume,
which is neither more, nor less, than the 'Almanack de Gotha,'
and thus I declare my will. . . . No man shall ever marry my
daughter^ ivith my consent, ivhose family have not found a ])lace
herey
Eupert sprung from his pathetic attitude, and indulged in a
hearty burst of genuine laughter.
''Are you in earnest. Count ?" he said, when he recovered the
power of speaking.
" Most perfectly in earnest, my dear friend," replied Adolphe ;
"and now, I presume," he added, "that you will not wonder at
my not wishing to delay my departure from the castle longer than
was absolutely necessary."
" That you should wish to get out of his way, if only to enjoy
the laugh which I have enjoyed now, I can easily understand;
but not that you should so suddenly have recovered from your
tender passion as to run away from the object of it."
" My dear Eupert!" replied the young nobleman, very gi'avely,
" I certainly think the Baroness Gertrude von Schwanberg a very
beautiful girl j and moreover, I have fancied, right or wrong I
FAMILY PPJDE, 119
scarcely know, that she was more really intellectnal, and more
capable of being a rational companion, than any yonng lady I
have yet seen. . . . But, be she what she may, my good friend,
I would not take the daughter of that noble owl for my wife, if
she were ten times more beautiful, and ten times more intelligent,
than I thought her, when I galloped, with a lover's speed,
towards Schloss Schwanberg this morning."
''You rather surprise me, Count Adolphe," replied Eupert,
looking at him with very genuine astonishment. " I must confess
that I am, except in theory, extremely ignorant of such matters ;
but I certainly had fancied that a disappointment in love, was a
much more serious aif air than you seem to make of it."
" Well then, I suppose it was only a fancy, and not a passion.
But, at any rate, it works me and irks me no longer. I tell yon
I am cured, Eupert, and I am thankful ! All I regret is the sort
of shyness which I fear may arise between me and that dear
library yonder ; which means, being interpreted, that I shall not
see so much of you, that I shall not be able to borrow so many
books, and that I shall no longer have the refreshment of having
freedom of thought justified, and made manifest, as you all seem
to enjoy it there, without having the fear of priestly interference
before your eyes. I am afraid I must lose all this, and I shall
miss it greatly."
"I do not see the necessity for your losing it," replied Eupert.
" Were I in your place, I should recount the whole affair to the
young lady's mamma, with precisely the same frankness that you
have recounted it to me. She is a sort of second providence, in
my estimation ; and I do not much think that anything could go
on well, in our region, without her advice and assistance."
"Do you not think that Gertrude must have told her what
passed between us ? "
" She may have done so, but I do not feel certain of it. The
young baroness only referred you to her father, I think? "
"Exactly so. She made no allusion to her mother," replied
Adolphe.
"And how do you mean to communicate to the young lady the
rejection you have received from her father ? " said Eupert.
"I don't very well know," replied his friend. "I am haK
inclined to think," he added, " that she guessed what the result
would be when she sent me to him."
"And even if she did," replied Eupert, " I do not see that you
can blame her for it. She would not have been acting properly,
according to all your noble notions, if she had taken it upon her-
120 GERTRUDE; OR,
self to reply eilaer yes or uo. jSTcitlier would she have mended
the matter if she had referred you to her mother, for she would
have known perfectly well that in that case her mother must
hare handed you to her father. Such being the immutable ulti-
matum in all such affairs."
" Yes, Paipert, I know it as well as you do, and I am a fool in
affecting to believe that the poor girl had any alternative. iS'ever-
theless, I am a true man, and a wise one too, when I tell you that
I am cured of my love-fit ; for I swear to you, by all that is
beautiful, and all that is good, I would not consent to become the
thrall and the son-in-law of this old Almanack, for all the plea-
sure that beauty and wit united could bestow on me."
" I am by no means surprised to hear you say so," returned
Eupert, laughing, ''for mcthinks I can understand your feelings
as Avcll as if I were a Count myself. Nevertheless, dear Adolphe,
I still abide by my opinion, that in order to make this queer little
affair of love, ancl the Almanack de Gotha pass off without any
ulterior bad consequences, your best adviser will be found in the
Earoness von Schwanberg. But here we must part, my good
friend, or I shall leave myself no time to perform any part of the
duty for which I receive wages, lodgings, and sustenance. Eut
if you will come to the castle to-morrow morning, and enquire
for the lady of the castle, I will undertake so to arrange matters,
as may enable you to tell her all that has passed, and receive
counsel from her unerring judgment as to the best method to be
j)ursued in order to leave things as if the events of to-day and
yesterday had not passed at all."
" I will in all my best obey you, sir," said Adolphe, gaily.
"Contrive to manage this for me, Eupert, and you shall be my
great Apollo, for most truly can I assure you that I wish for
nothina- more."
Eupert had not undertaken more than he was able to perform.
Tlis ever-kind patroness never threw any difficulties in his way
when she perceived that he wished to consult her ; and within a
couple of hours after the deeply-offended Count Adolphe liad
received his dismissal from the baron, the baron's lady was made
acfpr.iinted with all that had passed, save and except the private
interview which had taken place between Gertrude and her father.
Eut, as it happened, the omission of that one little scene produced
neither obscurity nor imcertaintv in the mind of Madame von
Scliwanberg. The drama went on perfectly Avell to its catastrophe
without it. It certainly required some little effort on the part of
the baroness to preserve her gxavity as she listened to the descrip-
FAMILY TEIDE. 121
tion of the almanack scene ; and no little praise was merited en
the part of Rupurt, for the tone of respectful solemnity with
which he narrated it. Eut this moment of danger being happily
got over by both parties, no difficulty whatever seemed to rest on
the mind of the lady, as to the manner of bringing this foolish
little affair to a conclusion, without leaving any very painful recol-
lections of it behind.
"If I understand you rightly, Eupert," said she, "Count
Adolphe will be made aware, before I next see him, that you have
acquainted me with all that has passed ? "
"Assuredly," replied Eupert. " It is by his express desire that
I have made this communication to yon, madam."
"And the advice which I shall give him will be this," returned
the baroness ; " I shall advise him immediately to obtain his very
indulgent father's permission to travel for a month or two ; and,
if he follow my advice, he will visit us all after he returns, as if
he had totally forgotten that anything of the kind had passed.
Of course, Gertrude has told me of his abrupt proposal to her,
and of the very proper manner in which she referred him to her
father. It is evident to me, that she is much more disposed
to forget, than to remember this silly fancy of our young friend ;
and I flatter myself, that Adolphe will easily be brought to follow
her example."
"Indeed, I hope so," said Eupert, very honestly, but without
deeming it proper to avo\\ his knowledge that such was already
the state of his mind.
Nothing, in short, could be more rational on all sides than the
manner in which this juvenile fancy was permitted to evaporate
and be forgotten. There was but one feature in the business
which at all puzzled the sagacity of Madame von Schwanberg ;
she was a good deal perplexed to account for the baron's silence
on the subject, and for some time she lived in daily dread of being
summoned to a private interview, for the purpose of hearing of
the very magnificent manner in which he had thought proper to
]"(jcct the splendid proposal which he had received from their
high-born and very wealthy neighbour.
Had she been aware that he avoided the subject himself, and
had commanded his daughter to avoid it, from the fear that any
discussion on the subject might have led to the discovery that the
noble refusal, and still nobler manner of it, had not originally
been his own suggestion, she would have understood his silence
concerning it much better.
122 GEMilUDE; OE,
CHAPTER XIX.
The conversation between the Baroness von Schwan"berg and
tlic Frail Odenthal, which was recorded some chapters back, had
been forgotten by neither of them ; nor was it likely that it should
be ; for they had both of them been deeply in earnest in the
opinions they had then expressed; and though the subject had
not been fully, nor even openly discussed, they had both made
themselTes sufficiently understood to have each created a lasting
feeling of sympathy and esteem in the other.
But, to the regret of both, the intercourse so auspiciously began,
and which seemed to promise so much mutual gi'atification and
comfort, was suddenly and painfully checked by the earnest
entreaty of Madame Odenthal' s last siu'viving sister, that, as her
son no longer required her presence in order to ensure him a
comfortable home, she would make her long-talked-of visit to
England.
As this letter, in addition to its earnest entreaties, brought also
the pecuniary means of complying with them ; the good woman
aroused her courage, and set otf for England.
Once there, she soon reaped the reward of her exertions, by
perceiving that her presence was indeed a comfort to the atiec-
tionate relative she went to visit, and whose failing health
certainly made her presence more useful there, than it could have
been in the house of her brother Alaric, who since his nephew
had been domiciled at the castle, had greatly less need of her
usefulness than her invalid sister.
The letters which passed between her and her son, were long
and frequent ; and it was so evident from those of the young man,
that the home he had found in the castle was in every way more
advantageous than it could ever be in her power to make that of
Eathcr Alaric, that the idea that it migJd he necessary for her to
return for Kupert's sake, soon died away, and was forgotten.
But though, in the case of her son, the weeks, months, and
years, wore away Avithout bringing any probability that he was
likely to lose his present asylum, and return to the humble roof
of his uncle, the case was different with herself; the sister of
Madame Odenthal died, bequeathing to her all she possessed,
fa:mily teide. 123
"vvhich, althongli amoimting to no very large revenue, was enough
to ensure her the same peaceful home which she had so . long
enjoyed under the roof of Father Alaric, and with the additional
comfort of being ahlc to remunerate him for it.
The return of this very unassuming, hut very excellent woman,
was hailed v/ith joy, not only by her brother and her son, but by
that son's discerning patroness also, who welcomed her rather as
a greatly valued equal, and friend, than as the mother of a
dependent.
I^or did Gertrude appear in any degree to have forgotten her ;
they had been great friends before the departure of ]\Iadame
Odenthal, and they became great friends again, immediately after
her return.
The situation of Madame de Schwanberg was in many respects
a very singular one. She was a very great lady ; the mistress of
a magnificent residence, of a large, attached, and profoundly
obedient household ; and her noble lord and master was almost
obsequious in his manners and address to her. Moreover, her
highly-favoured and highly-esteemed protege, Eupert, contem-
plated her as the most admirable human being that it was possible
for nature to produce ; and better still, her dearly-loved child
loved her in'return, even as she deserved to be loved
Yet, with all this, the Baroness von Schwanberg had not one
single human being within reach of conversation, to whom she
did, or could with propriety, open her heart, upon subjects of the
greatest importance and highest interest.
Though of a Eoman Catholic family, and, until the period at
which her early marriage took place, brought up according to the
usual routine and discipline of that church, the Earoness von
Schwanberg, in common with a vast number of quiet, meditative,
reading people, was no more a believer in the Eoman Catholic
religion, than in that of Johanna Southcote.
Eut to a woman of sane judgment, placed in such a position as
I have described hers to have been, the idea of proclaiming, and
preaching a faith, in opposition to that professed by all around
her, would have been a mischievous, as well as a vain attempt.
She might have disturbed many spirits, without enlightening one;
and if this very rational decision had not sufficed to keep her
quiet, she would probably have been so from the habit she had
naturally fallen into, from the peculiarities of her noble husband's
conversational tone, of never uttering any opinions at all.
She had indeed much to make this quiet course easy to her ;
for in the first place she was a very great lady, and in the next,
124 geeteude; oe,
she was rather a sickly lady ; and for one or both of these reasons,
no one who had ever held the situation of confessor at Schloss
tSchwanberg, from the time she was installed as its mistress, had
ever troubled her about any ceremonies cither irregularly per-
formed, or altogether forgotten.
And, indeed, upon the doctrine that man and w^ife are one, it
would not have been reasonable for the spiritual director of the
castle to complain ; for its master delighted in ceremonies, as
sincerely as its mistress contemned them ; and as her offences
were only those of very unostentatious omission, while his
merits were of a nature and style precisely the reverse, it had
never been considered necessary to take any notice of her peculi-
arities.
But although thus quietly permitted to think and to believe for
herself, she had often wished to find some friend who could think
and believe with her ; and one great reason for her so wishing,
arose from her doubts respecting the propriety of teaching Ger-
trude to feel the fallacy of the religion, to the ceremonies oi
which she had been accustomed.
The Baroness Schwanberg was i)erfectly aware, that, despite the
unity of truth, and the ever clear difference between right and
wrong, there might be such a dilemma as a divided duty ; and,
in truth, she felt that her own theories on the subject of religion
were much better calculated to satisfy her own honest conscience,
than to furnish a ritual for the guidance of her daughter. She
was aware, too, that she was herself very profoundly ignorant of
the value of the respective authorities upon which her own faith,
and that of her husband, was founded ; and she shrunk from the
awful responsibility of deciding for her child on so very moment-
ous a subject.
It is necessary so far to describe the state of Madame de Schwan-
berg's feelings on this subject, in order to make the pleasure she
had felt from her brief communion with Madame Odenthal at all
intelligible. She had no difficulty in perceiving that she was
neither an ignorant, nor an ordinary-minded woman, and more-
over it was very evident that she was an Exgltsh Protestant ;
and all this was quite enough to make the solitary-hearted lady
of the castle look forward to frequent companionship with her,
with a degree of satisfaction which, considering her station, would
have appeared to the baron, could he have been made aware of it,
as an unmistakable symptom of insanity.
But, unfortunately for his deeply disappointed wife, Madame
Odenthal was summoned to her sick sister within so short a time
FAZMILY rrjDE. 125
after this promising conversation had taken place, that all hopes
of renewing" it seemed at an end.
Her absence had lasted nearly fonr years, nevertheless the
interval had not been long enough to have caused her to be for-
gotten ; and it was with very genuine and cordial satisfaction that
she was welcomed by the baroness when she came to enquire for
her health, and to thank her for all the kindness which had been
bestowed upon Eupert.
There was now, to say the least of it, Cjuite as earnest a wish
on the part of the lady of the castle to converse freely with the
mother of its librarian, as there had ever been ; but even now^
this was not to be achieved without difficulty ; for, excepting
w^hen Gertrude was riding with her father, the mother and
daughter were rarely separated ; and as she might wish to
converse on many points with her humble counsellor in a manner
which might startle the still (ostensibly) Enman Catholic Ger-
trude, it was quite necessary to her purpose that they should be
tefe-d-tete.
It was not long, however, before a severe illness which attacked
the baroness, furnished only too good a reason for her entreating
^Madame Odenthal to make the castle her principle abode. A.
violent cold, caught while taking shelter from a sudden storm in
a barn, where she was exposed to a strong current of air, had
attacked her chest ; and she was ordered by her medical attend-
ants to confine herself during the winter to the warm dressing-
room, upon which her own apartment opened.
While submitting to this discipline, her malady seemed to abate,
her cough become less troublesome, and the feverish symptoms less
alarming; but although by no means of a complaining temper,
she could not but confess, that the confinement was very irksome
to her.
Gertrude implored very earnestly that she might share her
mother's retreat; but as both father and mother declared that
this could, on no account, be permitted, excepting for a stipulated
length of time every day; she consented to the regulation, on
condition that Madame Odenthal were invited to take her place
in the sick room, when she was herself absent.
"If your papa approves it, my dear Gertrude, I will ^'ery
willingly consent to this condition," replied the baroness; "she
is very kind, and very gentle, and I shall like to have her with
me extremely."
" Then that settles the thing at once," replied the baron, with
an air of great satisfaction. ' ' It is a very remarkable thing, my
«.2o GEEinrDE; oe,
Aqdlt lady," he continued, addressing the haroness, with a very
condescending smile ; " but by some extraordinary pccnliarity of
character, onr daughter never does propose auj- thing which docs
not, on examination, prove to be exactly the best thing, nnder the
circnmstances, that conld be proposed. I have no donbt, that
7'ace, and inherited talent, have a good deal to do with this ; and
it is a species of especial blessing, for which we ought to be
exceedingly thankful. Indeed, I am by no means certain that it
would not be proper to cause Father Alaric to make allusion to
it, either on the fete day of our daughter, or any other solemnity
which — "
"Indeed, papa, yon do not know half Madame Odenthal's
good qualities yet!" exclaimed Gertrude, (who, like a "cliartered
libertine" as she was, scrupled not to interrupt her gi'andiloquent
papa now and then, when she fancied her mother would be spared
something she did not like to hear therebv). "She knows so
much ! And then her being an Englishwoman is such a great
advantage to me ; for though mamma speaks it, I believe, quite
as well as a native, I do not profit by it half so much as I ought
to do. Eut it is more polite, you know, to address Madame
Odenthal in her native language."
*' There again ! " exclaimed the proud father ; "that is an idea
quite worthy of a reigning prince, receiving an ambassador! "
" Oh ! my dear papa ! That is exactly what I should like to
do!" cried Gertrude, clasping her hands, and speaking with great
energy.
It would be impossible to do justice by description to the look
of the baron as he gazed at her while she uttered this tirade.
The reader may easily understand what was passing in her mind
better than her mother could do ; for she, good lady, had never
been initiated into Gertrude's mysterious passion for royalty, and
for everything connected with, or approaching it. Eut her father,
notwithstanding his constitutional slowness of comprehension,
understood her thoughts perfectly, and in his heart of hearts, he
breathed "Amen!"
FAiULY PEIDE. 127
CHAPTER XX.
The proposal made by Gertrude, that Madame Odcnthal should
take up her residence at the castle, was immediately acted upon ;
and evidently to the great satisfaction of all the persons con-
cerned. The idea of being useful to the benefactors of her son,
would have made a much less agreeable proposal welcome to
Madame Odenthal herseK" ; and as to Eupert, he only felt that
the state of things thus suddenly brought about, so completely
realized all his fancy could have suggested, had that faculty been
taxed to sketch what he could have most desired ; that he almost
feared he was dreaming, and should wake, and find that " there
was no such thins;."
Gertrude, of course, was pleased, for the scheme was her own ;
and as for the poor baroness, she felt that the gratification of the
wish, so long delayed had come to her at a time when it was
infinitely more valuable than it could have been at any other.
But, notwithstanding all this measureless content on all sides,
an event was threatening, and even fast approaching, which was
prognosticated by none, save Madame Odenthal; and even by
her it was anticipated as a calamity by no means likely to occur
soon, but only as a too certain termination of the insidious malady
she was watching.
Eut it was the baron, whose astonishment appeared to be as
great as it was possible his grief to be, at hearing that the consort
of the reigning Schwanberg had actually departed this life before
she had fully accomplished two-thirds of the age which he had
abeady reached !
The only relief he found in this amazed state of mind, was
from the conviction, which was the result of long meditation on
the subject, that it was greatly more likely that his daughter,
who so strikingly resembled him in the powers of her intellect,
should resemble him also in longevity, than that she should unite
her mother's physical weakness to his own intellectual strength.
Having, by the force of reasoning, brought himself to this con-
clusion, he determined to bear — and he did bear — his loss with
every appearance of the most heroic philosophy.
The brave -hearted, stalwart Hupert wept secretly, as even a
128 gekthude; ok,
stout man may weep, who feels that he has lost a friend to whom
the whole world could never, in his estimation, show an equal;
and the young man's mother forgot her own grief, as she watched
and comprehended his.
Eut who can paint the feelings of the miserable Gertrude ?
She meditated, day and night, upon her own condition, and felt
that she was a wi'eck.
The contrast between the characters of her father and her
mother, would have taught her to feel, if nothing else had done
so, the beautiful, the brilliant, the estimable, and the loveablc
qualities of the latter. ►She felt too, that in her own nature,
there was a leaven that might be likely enough, now she had
lost her, to change all that was good within her, to somethiug
greatly the reverse. These were points in her character which
the influence of her mother had rendered comparatively harmless,
but which poor Gertrude felt might master her, now that the re-
straint was removed which had come in a shape too dear to be
resisted; for she had loved, and hugged, the chain which had
restrained her wilfulness, with too deep and true alfection to
render it at all likely that she would ever break it.
Eut now !
Without a metaphor, the poor girl trembled as she looked
forward, and thought of all the perils which were likely to beset
her.
Her adoring father, her watchful companion, Madame Oden-
thal, her kind friend Enpert, ay, and every servant in the castle,
looked at her pale cheek and altered eye, and pitied her.
Eut there was not one among them who had any true notion
of the real state of her mind, or the degree in which she sutfered.
They were, however, all right in one opinion, which the ex-
perience (greater or less) of each enabled them all to form ; for
they all consoled themselves by the conviction that this deptli of
sorrow could not last for ever . . . "for, if it did," as the old
housekeeper very justly observed, "the young lady must needs
follow her mother to the family vault ; for nobody who knows
anything about what could kill, or what could cure, would be
fool enough to doubt that die she must, if she went on loug in
that fashion."
And Gertrude did not die ; for harvest does not follow seed-
time with more benignant certainty, than that mysterious process
takes place by which the sufiering caused by the death of those
we love, is healed.
There was, too, another power in action, by which Gertrude
FAMILY PEIDE. 129
was greatly assisted in her efforts to resume her former occu-
pations ; and this was a sort of self-esteem, or rather a longing
for self-esteem, which she knew she could only obtain by con-
quering the heart-sinking despondency which had beset her ; for,
as her solitary musings most truly told her, it was not only the
piercing grief for her mother's loss which had thus broken
her spirit, but a selfish and cowardly feeling about her own
Avelfare.
"If, indeed," she inwardly exclaimed, " I am so utterly inca-
pable of guiding myself, I am both unworthy to live, and
unworthy to call myself her child. But, God help me ! I some-
times think that I hardly know right from wrong ! "
Once awakened, however, to the necessity of deciding this
tremendous question for herself, her energy and her health
returned ; and whatever blunders she might make, or whatever
other risks she might run, that of prematurely entering the family
vault was not among them.
This amendment in her health and spirits did not take place
without her being fully conscious of it ; and she rejoiced at it,
not only as a relief from suffering, but as a proof that she was
neither too weak nor too wilful to conquer a state of mind which
she knew was pernicious to her welfare.
Pretty nearly the first use that she made of her recovered acti-
vity of mind, was to set about arranging such a- scheme for her
domestic life as mioht ensure her that nearlv first of blessing's, a
perfect command of her time, and yet surround her with such
an appearance of domestic surveillance as might set gossip at
defiance.
But how was this to be achieved ? How was she to obtain the
personal and intellectual freedom so indispensable to the happi-
ness of such a mind as hers, and yet preserve the external
appearance of living under the influence of such authority as a
young girl of seventeen ought to acknowledge and submit to ?
But, difficult as the question certainly was, her first thought
solved it, though in a way that few besideS herself, if placed in
the same situation, would have ventured to propose.
Her first thought suggested the idea that, of all the persons
she had ever seen, Madame Odenthal was the only one whom she
should like to have with her, in the three-fold capacity of gover-
ness, companion, and chaperon.
When the humble position in which she had been accustomed
to see Father Alaric's sister was considered on the one side, and
the inordinate love of everything precisely the reverse which
10
130 geeteude; oe,
constituted the master-passion of her father, was contemplated on
the other, it is difficult to understand how she ever found courage
to attempt so desperate an undertaking as the convincing the
Baron von Schwanberg that the most proper person he could
select to superintend the important business of completing her
education, and, subsequently, the more important business still,
of acting as her chaperon in society, was the quiet-looking
Madame Odenthal.
Eut the young Baroness Gertrude being veiy decidedly of
opinion that she should prefer this arrangement to any other that
suggested itself to her, she determined, without a moment's hesi-
tation, that the attempt should be made.
"WTiether the confidence she felt that she should succeed arose
chiefly fi'om her knowledge of her father's character, or from the
consciousness of her own, may be doubtful.
It would be long to tell, and needless too, how she contrived to
place the question before him, so as to make all that was really in
favour of it convey to his mind not only its own rational weight,
but with it an ingenious superstructure, speedily constructed after
such a fashion as to touch his monomaniacal passion for being
supreme.
She painted, with an eloquence which positively made him
shudder, the possible, nay, the probable airs of authority which
such persons as were usually selected for such a situation were
likely to assume ; and, at length, summed up her pleadings by
saying, ''If you and I, my dearest father, were, in our characters
and views of life, more like the generality of those we see around
us, it would be well for us to select for this situation a person who
might be supposed capable of adding dignity to our establishment ;
but, as it is, it appears to me that all oui' dignity must emanate
from OTJESELVES."
There was something in the manner in which the young
baroness spoke these words, as well as in the words themselves,
which completely overpowered every objection. They seemed to
find a thrice-repeating echo in his heart.
In short, the cause was won ; and all that Gertrude had left to
do, in order to have this important affair settled exactly in her
own way, was to persuade Madame Odenthal to undertake the
performance of duties for which she knew herself, poor, dear
woman, to be most particularly unfit.
But here again Gertrude proved herself equal to the perform-
ance of a very difficult task, and she set about it, too, with
considerable ingenuity, and with a variation in her method which
FAMILY PKIDE, 131
proved her to possess considerable insight into other characters
besides that of her father.
"Nov Tvas she, on this occasion, under any necessity of affecting
what she did not feel, which, to do her justice, was a great relief
to her. She painted her own situation very nearly such as it
really was, described the heavy charge which the loss of her
mother had brought upon her, with equal truth and feeling, and
concluded her appeal by quietly desiring her humble, but sym-
pathising friend, "to paint to herself what her condition would be,
if, upon her refusing the situation thus offered to her, her father
should take upon himseK the task of choosing another to fulfil
it.
Both Gertrude and !Madame Odenthal, with equal propriety and
good feeling, avoided all broad allusions to the peculiarities which
might be likely to render his selection a source of suffering ; but
she ended this appeal by saying, " Eemember what my mother
was! Eemember how she loved me! — and remember, too, as-
freshly as I do, how she loved you ! And having dwelt a little
on these thoughts, refuse, if you can, to come between me and
the suffering which must fall upon me, as the inevitable conse-
quence of such refusal."
The eyes of Madame Odenthal filled with tears, as she looked
at, and listened to, her.
"I am afraid you know, my dear," she replied, ''that I have
not strength of mind enough to refuse you ; and, in truth, it is
only my belief in your having greater firmness than myself, which
can at all justify my yielding. It is you, dear child, who must
teach me the way I am to go, and not I who must teach you. Of
course, I am not alluding to any matters of importance, for, on
such points, I do truly believe that there can never be any differ-
ence of opinion between us. But it is concerning all matters of
etiquette that you will find me so utterly ignorant as may, I fear,
be very inconvenient to you."
*'I have no doubt you are right, Madame Odenthal," replied
Gertrude, very frankly. ''The probability of this inconvenience
has not escaped me ; but having been very ceremoniously brought
up myself, I have all the routine of ceremony at my fingers' ends ;
and if you, my dear Madame Odenthal, will condescend to learn
from me the recondite mysteries of entrances and exits, and when
to walk forward, and when to walk backwards, and all the inge-
nious varieties of bowings and bondings, from the angle which
_ threatens absolute prostration, to the rapid little miniature dip,
skilfully imitated from the graceful curtsey of a jointed doll, — if
10—^
132 geetetjde; oe,
you will first give your whole heart and intellect to this hranch
of aristocratic learning, you will find all the rest extremely easy.
You will have, indeed, to put your fingers in a particular angle
at the distance of about an inch from your lips, and make them
perform a sort of pantomimic manoeuvre, which means, by being
interpreted, a vast variety of both courteous and affectionate
greetings. But, in short, my dear, kind friend, if you do but
love me well enough to put your common sense upon the shelf
for a few moments, now and then, while I am exerting my some-
what dormant energies in giving you lessons in the fijie arts, I
have not the slightest doubt that we shall both of us be admired
as most distinguished individuals, wherever we go."
There was really as much truth as playfulness in all this ; and
when the grateful and kind-hearted Madame Odenthal had once
made up her mind to believe that by accepting the situation
offered to her, she might really contribute to the comfort of the
motherless Gertrude, there were no more difficulties to be con-
quered.
Gertrude very faithfully kept her promise, and became an
admirable mistress of forms and ceremonies; and, as the tall
slight form of Madame Odenthal, and her fine features, were
happily the reverse of everything described by the tremendous
epithet, milgar-Joolcing, the wilful heiress not seldom congratulated
herself upon the undaunted courage she had displayed in venturing
to select for her chaperon, one of the very last people in the
world, whom any one living in the world (but herself,) would
have thought of installing in such an office. And yet, it is very
possible that she selected the only person who could have filled
it, without becoming, in some way or other, an annoyance to
her.
CHAPTER XXL
The clever train of argument by which the young baroness had
contrived to convince her father that he assuredly had the power
of making any one great, whom it was his will to declare so, had
proved very perfectly satisfactory; but nevertheless he was, as
he privately confessed to his daughter, a good deal surprised at
FAMILY PEIDE. 133
the appearance of Madame Odenthal, on the first occasion that
he saw her officiate in full di'ess, as her companion and dame de
compagnie.
The moniTiful period of strict domestic seclusion being over,
Gertrude, who knew her father well, had determined to profit by
this first occasion, in order at once to produce the efi'ect which
she felt might be of so much serious importance to her future
comfort.
The baron had invited a rather large party of noble neighbours,
in honour of the highly distinguished guest of one of them, who
had favoured the neighbourhood with his presence, for the purpose
of enjoying the field sports for which it was celebrated.
As Gertrude had no intention of introducing Madame Odenthal
as a relative, there was no occasion for her being in mourning ;
but nevertheless the young lady in selecting her dress, the choice
of which was referred with laughing indiflerence wholly to her,
decided that she should wear black velvet, which, though not
mourning, might pass as that of a distant connection, or very
intimate family friend.
If Gertrude had been an artist, she could not have di'essed her
friend with more successful effect.
In a word, the wilful girl being determined that nothing should
be wanting to produce the effect she desired, had contrived to make
the poor, but still very handsome widow, look exceedingly like a
somewhat reserved, but very pleasing woman of fashion.
In order to avoid the possibility of her father's betraying any
inconvenient feeling of astonishment on first beholding the meta-
morphosis thus produced, Gertrude had contrived that the baron
should be in her dressing-room when Madame Odenthal, according
to promise, entered it in full costume, in order to know if the final
arrangements of Teresa were approved.
The old gentleman's first movement was to rise from his chair,
and make her a profound bow ; but his next, which was produced
by her venturing to smile as she perceived his mistake, was to
stagger back to his chair, very much as he might have done if she
had pushed him into it.
He speedily recovered himself, however, and as he was not a
man to be long awed by the aspect of any nobility only accorded
by Heaven, he said to his daughter, without any sort of cere-
mony, **I should wish to speak with you alone, my dear Ger-
trude."
Whereupon Madame Odenthal glided from the room with the
very least delay possible.
134 geeteijde; oe,
''Upon my word, my love, this is one of the most extraordi-
nary things that I ever rememher to have witnessed," said he.
' ' It certainly is very extraordinary ! Yery extraordinary indeed !
I am quite aware that I have influence, my dear Gertrude, but I
will frankly confess to you, my child, that I had no idea, till you
pointed it out to me, of the sort of influence which it is evident
I possess upon the appearance and manners of those who approach
me."
"You see then, that I was right, papa, about Madame Oden-
thal. I felt quite sure that if you placed her in the situation she
now holds in your family, a very short time would suffice to make
her, both in manner and appearance, all that you would wish her
to be."
*' You were right in so thinking, Gertrude," he replied, with
great solemnity; ''and I have no doubt, my dear," he added,
"that you were also right in the reason you gave for thinking so.
You said, as I well remember, that I ought to be the source of
dignity to those around me, and not to receive it from them."
" Yes, papa, and I think so still," replied his daughter, gravely.
Thus far everything had succeeded so perfectly according to
the wishes of the young lady, that there really seemed to be
some danger of her following her father's example, and fancying
that her will was to be law in all things.
There was still, however, one more experiment to be made,
before she could feel quite certain that her self-willed con-
trivances respecting the station which she wished Madame Oden-
thal to fill, would be approved by her son.
Eupcrt had never yet seen his gentle mother robed in black
velvet, and looking like a duchess ; and she had some slight
doubts as to his approving for her, what seemed to have so near
an approach to child's play. It was therefore not quite without
a little nervous agitation that she awaited an occasion of this first
dinner party, the moment of his entering the drawing-room.
She might have spared herself this annoyance, if it was one,
by having contrived that he, as well as the baron, should see her
in her robes of office in private. But, for some fanciful reason
or other, Gertrude did not choose this, and, on the contrary, had
made Madame Odenthal promise that she would carefully avoid
his doing so.
It was not therefore till he entered the drawing-room, after
the last guest had arrived, on the day I am describing, that this
wonderful metamorphosis met his eye.
At the first glance he positively did not know her. He only
FAMILY PEIDE. 135
saw before him a very handsome, middle-aged lady of fashion ;
but when she met his gaze, he felt that it was his mother who
smiled upon him, and he certainly felt also, that any man might
be proud of such a mother.
And then his eye glanced, almost inToluntarily, from her to
the young baroness.
The glance which he met in return, seemed sparkling with a
sort of happy triumph which was quite unintelligible, unless this
wondi'ous change was her own work.
Gertrude had not intended that he should discover this, and
had hinted as much to Madame Odenthal, who, on her part, had
kept her promise of secrecy very faithfully, considering it only
as a playful whim.
But though Madame Odenthal was faithful to her, she was not
faithful to herself; for her sparkling eye, her brilliant colour,
and her involuntary, but most radiant smile, revealed the
secret.
Thus much it is easy to tell ; but it is less so to explain why
his discovery of its being the will, or whim, of the heiress of
Schwanbcrg, to render his mother the most distinguished-looking
person in the society, should produce so gTeat a change in all his
own feelings towards her.
The philosophical part of the world tell us, that we are all of
us what circumstances make us ; and this is true, if we go far
enough back to look for the circumstances : but in the case of
Gertrude, it was scarcely needful to go farther back than her own
birth. Her mother was a very admirable person in many ways ;
and Eupert was quite sufficiently aware of this, to think it highly
probable that Gertrude, also, would turn out to be an admirable
person in many ways.
But, on the other hand, he was equally well aware of what
her father was ; and the occasional uncertainty of temper and
demeanour, which he had for some time remarked in the great
man's heiress, was easily, he thought, accounted for, by her
equally near relationship to him.
But he found it very difficult to bring this theory to bear upon
the whim which had now seized her.
That there was a strong mutual attachment between Gertrude
and his mother, there could be no doubt. During the whole
period of the baroness's illness, the thoughtful kindness with
which each had sought to spare fatigue and suffering to the
other, had been marked by him with equal pleasure and admi-
ration. But her insisting upon it, that his mother should be
136 geeteube; oe,
made to look like a ductless, could have notlnng to do with
such feelings as were manifested then.
This new whim, certainly, was very puzzling ; nor was the
effect upon himself less so.
Why did he now, for the first time, discover that his friend,
Adolphe Steinfeld, was right, in thinking the eyes of Gertrude
not only more beautiful than those of her lovely mother, but very
decidedly more beautiful, also, than those of the nymph of the
fountain, or of any other nymph that benignant nature had ever
created to embellish the earth ?
It was a thrilling, and a very strange sort of sensation which
shot though his heart, as the new-born doubt arose in his mind
as to his long established belief, that Gertrude mherited her
father^s pride.
*' Can I have been mistaken? Can I always and for ever have
^been mistaken ? " was a question which, though only propounded
by himself, produced a very powerful effect upon his spirits.
The party which was assembled that day at Schloss Schwan-
berg was rather a brighter one than usual ; for it so chanced that
one of the baron's noble neighbours had with him a newly-
married young couple, as guests, who were well calculated to
embellish and enliven any party. The bridegroom was French,
and the bride English ; and it had but seldom happened in that
very noble neighbourhood that an evening was passed with so
near an approach to social enjoyment.
Though the English bride spoke French with tolerable facility,
she freely confessed, that she greatly preferred speaking English ;
and upon hearing ^Madame Odenthal address her son in that
language, she immediately placed herself beside her, and smilingly
hailed her as a country-woman.
It is probable that people of all lands speak their own language
more gracefully than any other ; and the English stranger, who
was herself too lovely not to be an object of attention, soon made
Madame Odenthal share this honour with her; for the bride
seemed very greatly to enjoy the pleasant lanrj sj/ne recollections
of her early English days, concerning scenes which the elder lady
could report of quite freshly, from having visited them more
recently.
While this was going on in one part of the room, the husband
of the beautiful bride was vaunting with great energy in another,
the extraordinary beauty of his lady's voice, boldly declaring, that
she had no reason to shrink from competition either with the
voices of Germany or of Italy. AYhereupon, the young baroness
FAMILY PEIDE. 137
Gertrude so earnestly expressed her hope that she would kindly
place herself at the excellent pianoforte, which stood ready for
use in the middle of the room, that the proud bridegroom could
not resist the temptation of insisting upon it that she should do
so, and sing a certain English song, which, as he said, had greatly
contributed to the good work of converting her into a French wife.
The pretty bride, who was really as free from all sorts of affec-
tation as it was well possible for a pretty bride to be, made but a
feeble resistance, and concluded her smiling remonstrance by
saying, that if !Madame Odenthal would sit by her, she would
consent ; for that she had a sad trick of forgetting the words of a
song, and that in such a case she could only hope for help from a
country-woman.
So saying, she passed her arm under that of the dame de com-
2)((gnie, and they proceeded together to the pianoforte.
Her enamoured young husband had really said very little more
in praise of her singing than it deserved ; and she performed the
song he asked for, not only in very good style, but without
requiring the aid of her country-woman to prompt her.
The usual effect of such a performance, of course, followed, and
Madame de Hauteville was earnestly entreated to sing again ; and
then, the genuine love of music being strong within her, she
declared herself quite ready to sing again, provided some one else
would sing also. AYhereupon, Gertrude playfully and gracefully
offered her services ; and though her performance was by no means
equal in excellence to that of her giiest, it was good enough to
deserve, and receive applause, as well as to justify the eager claim
for another song, from Madame de Hauteville.
"Do you ever sing English, dear baroness?" demanded the
bride.
**Alas ! no," answered Gertrude. *' I wish I did ! "
" I wish so too, my dear, as in that case we might manage a
duet together," replied Madame de Hauteville. " Is there no-
body," she added, turning to Madame Odenthal, who was standing
near her; ''is there nobody here who could manage to sing this
with me?" pointing, as she spoke, to a page which she had
opened in a miscellaneous volume of music, which lay on the
pianoforte.
Gertrude only anwered by dolefully shaking her head ; but
Madame Odenthal smiled, and looked towards her son, who, with
several others, Avas standing near the instrument.
The lively English lady caught the smile, and immediately
interpreted it.
138 GERTEUDE'; OE,
''That gentleman sings, does he?" said she. ''Then pray
present him, and I will try to persuade him to sing this duet with
me."
I^ow it so happened, that during the whole of Eupert's long
residence at the castle, nobody in it had ever heard him sing — for
nobody in it had ever asked him to do so ; but the fact was, that
he had not only great love for music, but he had also a very fine
voice, and though with little science, possessed sufficient taste to
enable him to sing very charmingly.
His priestly uncle was, in the sacred line, a very good musician
also, and possessed, German-like, a very tolerable pianoforte, by
the help of which, he had not only taught his young parishioners
to sing abundance of canticles, but had made his nephew a very
tolerable musician.
As neither his mother, however, his uncle, nor himself, had ever
conceived the idea that this very ordinary rational faculty could
be of any essential use to him, he had been rather permitted, than
encouraged to indulge it ; and excepting occasionally in the long-
day season, when he rose with the lark, he had rarely profited by
the remote situation of the library, in which Gertrude's practising
piano stood, in order to indulge himself by the sound of it.
But, notwithstanding all this well-behaved prudence, Eupert
loved music quite well enough to enjoy exceedingly this very
novel mode of passing an evening in the stiff drawing-room of
Schloss Schwanberg. IS'evertheless, he was a good deal startled
by Madame de Haute ville's abrupt demand upon him, and for a
moment scarcely knew how to answer her. The baron, indeed,
was so completely occupied in explaining to the nobleman of the
highest rank in the company the manner in which he administered
the territorial laws of the domain around him, that Eupert was
quite aware that he ran no risk of offending him, either by grant-
ing or refusing the request so eagerly made to him.
Eut the idea that either his mother, or Gertrude, should think
he blundered in his manner of replying to this very unexpected
demand, was annoying.
If the thing had happened the day before, it would have been the
eye of his mother that he would have sought, in order to ask for
counsel ; but now it was not to her, but to the young baroness that
his first glance was directed ; and the appeal was answered by a
look of such radiant satisfaction, and bright encouragement, that
he had bowed his consent almost before he knew what he was
doing.
So no more time was lost ; the duet was performed in very
FAMILY rEIDE. l39
spirited and excellent style, and rewarded by tlie applause it
deserved.
There is nothing, perhaps, which in mixed society tends so
promptly to produce a tone of intimacy between persons otherwise
strangers to each other, as music. Where the love of it is genuine,
its attraction is quite strong enough to overpower many of the
little repulsive etiquettes which stand in the way of easy inter-
course with new acquaintance ; and such was decidedly, and very
pleasantly, its effect on the present occasion.
The evening, instead of being extremely dull, was extremely
agreeable. Carriages, greatly to the astonishment of their coach-
men, were made to wait, nor did the party permit themselves to
separate till arrangements had been made for their speedily coming
together again.
The only effect which all this was likely to produce on the
Earon von Schwanberg, was an unwonted degree of fatigue ; and
such would very decidedly have been the case, had not the sensa-
tion of sleepiness been overpowered by the astonishment he felt
at being addressed by some of the most distinguished among his
guests, with earnest petitions to name an early day for returning
their visit, and doing them the especial favour of inducing
Madame Odenthal and her son to accompany him and his
daughter.
Had the astonishment of the baron been a little less over-
powering, there can be little doubt that his reply would have
politely, but solemnly, communicated the interesting information,
that Madame Odenthal being his daughter's hired companion,
would certainly (with their permission) accompany her ; but that
her son, Mr. Rupert, being only his librarian and secretary, he
could not think of taking such a liberty.
But he was far from being sufficiently in possession of his usual
share of comprehension, to be capable of saying anything of the
kind; all he could do was to stand in an attitude of graceful
dignity, with his heels together, and his right hand spread upon
his breast.
His silence, however, was construed into a most amiable
assent ; one or two early days were named by the different peti-
tioners, which the young baroness was eagerly entreated not to
forget, and so they parted — the well-pleased guests declaring that
it was the pleasantest day they had ever passed at Schloss
Schwanberg, and the entertainers feeling more disposed to retire
to their respective apartments than to remain together for the
purpose of discussing all that had passed.
140 geetetde; ob,
" Good riiglit, papa ! " was all that Gertrude said, preparatory
to her leaving the room.
The words seemed to rouse the baron from a state that consi-
derably resembled a dream ; and being thus roused, he contrived
to say, ''Gertrude! come to me to-morrow morning, for a few
minutes, before breakfast. I wish to speak to you."
" Yes, papa, I will," was her dutiful reply ; and having uttered
it she glided out of the room, followed by her dame de compacjnie.
Piupcrt had politely attended the departing ladies to their
carriages, and did not again make his appearance in the drawing-
room.
CHAPTEE XXII.
FAiinrrL to her promise, Gertrude failed not to make her
appearance on the following morning, precisely at the time and
place at which she knew her father would be expecting her. His
heavy, handsome features wore the look of finn-set self-import-
ance, which was, indeed, the only expression, excepting that of
weariness, which they were capable of assuming.
"Good morning. Baroness Gertrude," he said, awaiting her
approach with an extended hand. "It is always a pleasure to
me to see you, my dear, but particularly so just now, when so
remarkable an instance has occurred to justify the opinion you
lately expressed to me, concerning our present domestic arrange-
ments in the drawing-room."
For a moment Gertrude employed herself in drawing forward
a chair ; an operation to which she gave too much attention to
permit her looking in her father's face, as she replied, "I thought
you would be pleased, papa, at the brilliant manner in which
every thing went off yesterday."
" Of course, my dear, of course," he replied, with a stiff incli-
nation of the head, that seemed intended for a complimentary
bow. " There could be no doubt, I should hope," he continued,
"that an entertainment given at my house, and at which myself
and my daughter presided, would be a brilliant one. But the
subject upon which I i)articularly wished to speak to you now^
relates to other matters. You are certainly a very clever young
FAMILY PEIDE. 141
lady, and possess a power of observation which I have no doubt
is hereditary. Eut nevertheless it is scarcely possible, my dear,
that you can, at your age, have arrived at that steady sort of
observation which I now possess, and which you yourself already
possess in no common degree, as you proved to me a month or two
ago, upon an occasion which has, in fact, led to the results upon
which I now wish to speak to you."
Gertrude Avas sitting at no great distance from the fire, the
heat of which appeared to be oppressive to her ; for almost with-
out waiting till her father reached a full stop, she left her chair,
in order to take from a distant table a newspaper, which she
seemed to fancy would be useful to her as a screen.
"Pray, my dear, sit still!" said the baron. ''I should not
have desired you to come to me at so early an hour, had I not
something of importance to say to you .... Do you remember
telling me, Gertrude, at the time to which I allude, that the
persons whom I permit to be habitually about me, ought to be
such as would derive distinction from me, and not such as could,
or might fancy they could, bestow it ? "
"Oh! yes, papa! I remember our conversation quite well,",
replied Gertrude, appearing to find great relief from her news-
paper.
" And yet, my dear, though this very just and proper way of
thinking must have come into your head naturally, and merel}',
as I take it, on account of your being my daughter, I don't
believe that your thoughts, clever as they were, ever made you
expect to see what you witnessed yesterday. Did they, Ger-
trude ? "
" ]^ot exactly, papa," she replied. "But you know," she
added, after the pause of a moment, ' ' you know that when one
mentions an idea, as I did to you in the conversation you refer
to, it is only for the sake of expressing an opinion, and can have
no reference to any particular circumstance,"
" Of course, my dear, of course. I don't mean to say that you
could have known beforehand anything about Madame de Haute-
ville. AYhat I mean is, that, with all your natural family clever-
ness, I don't think you could have ever expected to witness such
a strange scene as you beheld at the pianoforte yesterday. Did
you, my dear ? " said the baron, looking at her very earnestly.
Gertrude was at that moment in greater danger of seriously
offending her father than she had ever been before in the whole
course of her life, for she certainly did appear to be reading
Bomethiug in the newspaper. Fortunately, however, she raised
142 geetrtjde; ob,
her eyes, and perceived the indignant look that was fixed upon
her, and which, doubtless, was like the lightning which precedes
thunder — only a prelude to the voice of the storm.
'' You puzzle me by your question, dear papa!" she exclaimed,
with great quickness ; *' and I really scarcely know how to answer
you. How could I, you know, before I had ever seen Madame
de Hauteville — how could I guess the sort of impression the
manners and appearance of Madame Odenthal were likely to pro-
duce upon her ? N'evertheless, I certainly had a general idea,
that if you chose to patronise yoiu' secretary's mother, all your
acquaintance would think they were doing themselves honour by
following your example."
These calming words produced the desired effect ; the baron
not only bent his head as a token that he acquiesced in her
theory, but he almost smiled, as he added: " And not only his
mother, but himself too, my dear Grertrude. Did you ever see
anything so ridiculous as the fuss they made about him ? How-
ever, tliat is their affair, you know, and not mine ; and I cannot
deny that there is something very agreeable in seeing such really
distinguished people as those who were here last night, one and
all of them, ready to fight for the honoui' and gratification of
receiving a poor unknown boy at their houses, and his mother
too, merely because I have thought fit to patronise them ! "
*' Yes, papa, it is gratifying," replied Gertrude, with that sort
of quiet earnestness with which we acknowledge the feelings of
which we may justly feel proud.
"I do assure you, my dear," resumed the baron, very solemnly,
''that nothing can be farther from _my heart, and from my cha-
racter, than any wish to tyrannise over the society around me,
many of whom, I am quite ready to allow, are of very true and
piu'e nobility ; but, nevertheless, I see no reason whatever why I
should disdain the sort of homage which they all seem ready to
pay me ; and it is, therefore, my decided purpose to accept the
eai^nest invitations we received last night, including in our family
party, those, whose abode in my mansion has apparently ennobled,
sufiiciently to justify their being included in it."
In this, Gertrude very quietly acquiesced, merely observing
that it was exactly what she expected from him, and that she
quite agreed with him in thinking that he owed it to himself to
sustain the dignity of the position in which it was evident his
neighbours considered him to stand.
The immediate consequence of all this was, a few weeks of
more frequent and more lively meetings than had recently taken
FAMILY PEEDE. 143
place in the neighbourhood; and -when the conclusion of the
sporting season arrived, and dispersed them nearly all in search of
metropolitan gaiety, in some land or other, the Baron von Schwan-
berg had acquired such a decided relish for the enlarged field of
influence which, he fully believed, he had been enjoying, that,
after secretly ruminating upon the subject for a quiet (not to say
dull) week or two, he suddenly told his daughter that, having
deeply considered the subject, he had come to the resolution of
taking her to Paris.
The first efi'ect of this very unexpected news on the heiress of
Schwanberg was to make her suddenly look very pale; but before
her father had time to be alarmed at this, her varying complexion
changed again, and her colour became much brighter than usual ;
but she remained silent.
*' Why do you not reply to what I have said to you, Gertrude? "
said the baron, somewhat sternly.
" Because I was too much surprised, I believe, papa," she said ;
but she said it with so bright a smile, that he smiled too, as he
added: "But I flatter myself that you are as much pleased as
surprised, my dear."
"And more too, papa, if such a scheme should be really possi-
ble! " she replied.
"And why should you feel any doubt on the subject, Baroness
Gertrude? Am I not generally found to be capable of doing-
whatever it is my will to do?" said he, with a sort of stern
dignity, which made her feel that the subject was not a jocose
one.
"Oh, yes! dear papa," she replied, with eagerness; "I am
quite sure that if you choose to execute such a scheme, you will
not only do it, but do it well. But, of course, there will be a
great many things to be thought of and arranged, before such a
journey can be taken. It won't do for you, papa," she continued,
very gravely, and fixing her eyes upon the ground, "it will not
do for you and me to go flying about the country quite like
ordinary people. We must, of course, be attended by something
like a sicite.^^
"Of course we must, Baroness Gertrude," he replied, raising
himself into the most dignified of sitting attitudes. ' ' You cannot
suppose that I have forgotten this. It may do very well for the
De Hautevilles, who really are very elegant, fashionable-looking
young peojile, to travel about, as I dare say they do, with a lady's-
maid for his wife, and a valet for himself; but that won't do for
ns, Gertrude."
144 gekteude; oe,
** Certainly not, sir," returned the young lady, with a look
almost as diguified as his own.
"As to your personal attendants," he continued, '' I shall make
no objection whatever to j'our taking a second, if you think Teresa
alone will not be sufficient."
''Thank you, dear papa! Teresa is a very good girl, but I
don't want two of them," rejilied Gertrude, endeavouring not to
smile ; " but when you talk of a suite, I am sure you do not mean
ladies' -maids and footmen."
"Oh dear, no! — certainly not — certainly not!" returned the
baron, eagerly. "Madame Odenthal, of course, will be one of
our suite, my dear."
"Of course, papa," she replied, quietly; "for, at my age, it
would be quite impossible that I should appear in company with-
out her."
"Obviously so — obviously!" returned the baron, raising his
hand with an action which was meant to signify that this question
was settled, and might be dismissed.
Gertrude bent her head in acquiescence, and said no more.
The baron, too, was silent ; but it was evident that he intended
to say more upon some subject or other, because, upon his daugh-
ter's making a slight movement, which he thought indicated an
intention of leaving him, he shook his head, and made an expres-
sive signal to her with his forefinger, which evidently meant that
she was to stay where she was.
After this, her moving was, of course, out of the question, and
she prepared herself to wait patiently for what was to follow.
The interval was not a very long one, though it seemed so, for
he presently said : "And about myself, Gertrude. I really want
your opinion, my dear, as to whom it would be most proper for
me to take, by way of a gentleman attending upon my person. I
will confess to you that I should not like this office to be filled by
a mere stranger, for I have constantly observed through life, that
the deference and respect which I wish to inspire, and which
are so unquestionably my right, are not always felt at once by
strangers when they first approach me. Such feelings are natur-
ally the result of knowing me as I really am."
"I can understand that, papa, perfectly," replied Gertrude.
"I have no doubt you do. You are too clever, too much a
Schwanberg, too much my own dear child, to be at a loss how to
interpret it," replied her father, affectionately. "And this being
the case," he continued, "it makes the task of obtaining such a
person as I want rather difficult. It is absolutely necessary, you
FAillLY PEIDE. 145
know, that lie should have the appearance of a gentleman, as
otherwise I should not be able, or, at any rate, I should not be
willing, to let him follow me into the salons of any noble persons
with whom we may become acquainted."
"Certainly not," replied Gertrude, with decision, and in the
tone of one who knew perfectly well what they were talking
about.
''I was sure you would agree with me, my dear, quite sure of
it. But now then, you will observe," pursued the baron, "that
our power of choice is very limited. lu fact, my dear child, I
can at this moment recollect only two persons who would be in
any way proper to fill the office."
" Two ? " repeated Gertrude, looking up at him with an aspect
of considerable astonishment.
"You misunderstand me, my dear," resumed her father. "I
do not mean that I wish to have two gentlemen following me
everywhere, as a necessary part of my suite, but that I know only
of two from which my selection can be made."
Gertrude bowed, in token that she understood him.
"Xow the first who presents himself to my mind, is my con-
fessor."
"Father Alaric ! " exclaimed Gertrude, almost with a voice of
dismay,
' ' Yes, my dear. I think Father Alaric would do extremely
well. A priest, you know, is, or ought to be, always a gentle-
man ; and Father Alaric is both too observant of my wishes, and
too quiet in manner, to be likely to expose himself to any
unpleasant observations."
Gertrude remained silent for a moment, and then replied;
""^Yhat you say of Father Alaric personally, is perfectly just,
dear papa. But do you not think, that your thus keeping your
confessor in constant personal attendance, may suggest a suspicion
that you may be one of the busy noblemen who wish to meddle
too much with the subject of religious doctrine? If you were
the Pope himself, you could hardly do more ; and even if you
were a Cardinal, I think such very close attendance of your con-
fessor, might create more attention, and more suspicion, too, in a
foreign court, than I think you would find convenient."
" llercy on me!" exclaimed the terrified baron, his face
becoming crimson; "how on earth could I for a single moment
overlook so obvious an objection? Of course, my darling child,
you are right ! A man of my rank and station, will be watched
as keenly as a reigning prince, ^o, no, I will have no priest in
U •
146 gehtetjde; oe,
my train. You are quite right, Gertrude ; I might have the eyes
of all Europe upon me, while I was only thinking of your amuse-
ment, my dear child, and of the best way of finding a suitable
alliance for you."
*' Indeed, my dear father, I very truly rejoice at your having
avoided this peril," returned Gertrude, rising. ''But I dare say
you have many other things to think of, and I shall only inteiTupt
you by staying here."
'' But, Gertrude ! you forget that we have not yet settled who
is to be my suite. Pray don't go away till that point is decided."
Gertrude quietly reseated herself, and sat in act to hear.
"Cannot you think of any body, my dear child, who might be
able to fill this office, and yet give us no trouble whatever ? I do
assure you it would be a great relief to me, if you could think of
such a person."
''Indeed, papa," she replied, "I would, with the greatest
readiness, immediately endeavour to do so, did I not feel that no
one but yourself could name him with propriety. Who is there
but yourself, dear papa, who could at once be a judge whether
the person and manners of any one proposed, were such as could
justify your permitting him to attend upon you in society ? And
also, which is equally important, whether you can yourself submit
to his attendance upon you without experiencing any feeling of
annoyance."
"Eight again, my dear! " returned her father, looking highly
pleased ; "I really think that, somehow or other, you are always
right, Gertrude. It certainly is quite true, my dear child, that
nobody can judge of my own comfort so well as I can myself;
and I don't scruple to say, that the handsome, well-behaved young
fellow, who saved your life about half-a-dozen years ago, by
dragging you out of the water, is just about the best-behaved
and least disagreeable sort of young man that I ever remember
to have seen. But nevertheless, my dear child, though young-
Bupert was certainly one of the two that I just now mentioned
as the most eligible I could think of, I would by no means insist
upon it, if any other person occurred to you whom you thought
more fitting."
Gertrude listened to him very attentively, and after silently
meditating on the question for a minute or two, replied ; " I really
doubt if you could choose better, sir. He has turned to very good
account the opportunities which your patronage has afforded him,
and I should suppose that he would be considered in any good
society as a wcU-buhaved and well-informed young man."
FAMILY PEIDE. 147
*' You have expressed yourself extremely well, Gertrude, as
indeed you always do. He certainly is an exceedingly well-be-
haved young man. ISTor can we be much surprised at that, my
dear, when we recollect how frequently he has been permitted to
converse with me, I may almost say with familiarity. In short,
upon the whole, I doubt, as you say, w^hether I could choose
better. And then we have the advantage of already knowing
that he is one of those who is capable of being in some sort
ennobled, as it were, by my influence. It is quite certain, as I
am fully aware, as well as yourself, my dear child, that I cannot
receive honour from those about me, although I can, fortunately,
confer it ; and therefore his being of humble birth is really of no
consequence."
"None," said Gertrude, with an acquiescent bow.
*'AYell then, my dear," resumed the baron, evidently relieved
from considerable anxiety, "all that remains for us to do now, I
think, is to decide upon what office I can assign him. "We must
not call him Eupert any more, you must remember that ; he must
always be Monsieur Odenthal ; and I think it would be as well
to insert de before it, Gertrude, both for him and his mother.
Madame de Odenthal, and Monsieur de Odenthal, really sound
very well, and they, of course, could make no objection."
" On this point, I think you may do exactly what you like,
papa," replied Gertrude, gravely. " To them the difi'erence would
not appear very material."
"Less so, than to us, I dare say, poor things! " returned the
baron, gently shaking his head. "Eut we have not yet settled,"
he resumed, "what office we are to assign him, my dear Ger-
trude. It will be necessary, will it not, to explain why he is in
my suite?"
"He is your secretary, papa," replied his daughter, looking as
if a little surprised at the question. ' ' I believe few persons in your
distinguished position, ever travel without a secretary."
The baron gazed at her, as he very often did, with a mixture
of surprise and admiration, and after the silence of a moment, he
said, " I know that it is quite a common observation to say, that
children resemble their parents, but I really do think, my dear,
that your resemblance to me, has something more than common
in it ; I mean in the way in which you understand everything,
more even than in your fine regular features. But then, there is
another observation that I make too, Gertrude," he added, with
a paternal smile, " and it is that, though your thoughts and mine
almost always turn out to be the same in the end, they always
11—2
148 GERTRUDE; OR,
come into your head first. But I suppose, my dear, this is owing
to your being younger. It is, I dare say, just the same thing as
if we were running down the terrace walk together ; you would
be sure to do it quickest, you know."
"At least we have the comfort of knowing, dear papa, that we
shall arrive at the same point at last," she replied. But now she
had gone too fast for him, for he looked puzzled, as he said,
''about getting to the end of the terrace, do you mean, my
dear?"
GertiTide bent her beautiful head in reply, and after the silence
of a moment, said, "iS'ow then I think we have settled every-
thing. I must go and talk to ILadame Odenthal about it."
"Z>^ Odenthal, if you please, Gertrude," returned the baron,
very solemnly; ''I really must insist upon the persons of my
suite being treated with the respect which ought to attach to
them."
CHAPTEE XXIII.
It is quite unnecessary to linger any more on the preliminaries
of this spirited expedition, the suddenness of which seemed some-
what startling to Madame Odenthal ; but for some reason or other,
which it might be difficult very clearly to explain, the sort of en-
dearing and almost filial confidence with which Gertrude treated
her well-beloved companion, was not quite unlimited. Xay,
occasionally, there was something so like caprice in the young
lady's manner of treating her, that it required all the genuine
afi'ection which Madame Odenthal felt for the motherless girl, to
jDrevent her feeling estranged and offended.
But it was no very easy thing for Madame Odenthal to remain
long ofi'ended with Gertrude. There was so much that was essen-
tially good, and so much that was irresistibly attaching about her,
at least, in her intercourse with her chaperon, that, despite all
her little mysterious caprices, this kind-hearted dame de com-
licignie loved her very afi'ectionately.
Nevertheless, the worthy governante could not well help con-
templating with something like astonishment, the extreme
FAMILY PEIDE. 149
indifference with whicli this young girl appeared to contemplate
the change which awaited her, from the stiff, unchanging state-
lincss of her father's remote castle, to the brilliant and dazzling
dissipation of the French capital.
This indifference would have been much less sui^prising, had
Gertrude been ignorant of the vast difference between the life she
had hitherto led, and that upon which* she was about to enter ;
but, as Madame Odcnthal well knew, it would have been difficult
to find among the most diligent readers of Paris and London, any
young lady better acquainted with the most lively representations
of their manners, than Gertrude.
'No indecencies of any kind, cither social or religious, had ever
been permitted to find their way into the library of the truly
refined Madame de Schwanberg ; but, excepting on these points,
no restraint had ever been put upon the reading of Gertrude ; and
as her appetite for reading was much on a par with what a healthy
mouse may be supposed to feel when left in perfect liberty within
a favourite cheese, it was pretty evident to those who knew her
as well as Madame Odcnthal, that she was not unaware of the
change which awaited her. Eut although it was impossible to
suppose her ignorant of this, it was equally so to believe that it
excited any very lively sensations, either of pleasure or distaste.
As a companion, she was more than usually silent, and as a stu-
dent, less than usually diligent. In short, her affectionate, but
greatly puzzled friend, was totally at a loss as to the state of her
young companion's mind respecting this unexpected event.
It was natural enough, that in this state of things, she should
ask her son, during a tete-d-tete walk with him in the garden,
whether he thought the young baroness liked the idea of this
journey, or not.
His answer was: ''Upon my word, dear mother, I can't
tell."
''It certainly is not very likely that you should know, Kupert, '
she rejoined ; " for I presume that I know her thoughts on most
subjects better than you can do ; and yet, strange to say, I really
have not been able to discover what her feelings are about it.
iNevertheless, it is impossible she can be really indifferent about
it."
Piupcrt nodded his head, and said: "Certainly. One should
think so."
" In some things she is very like her mother," resumed
Madame Odenthal, musingly; "but in others quite the reverse.
When the late baroness once knew she could trust a friend, she
150 geetrude; on,
had no longer any reserve with them. But it is not so "with
Gertrude. Do you not think that there is a great deal of singu-
larity about her, Eupcrt?"
The young man did not immediately reply, which caused his
mother to look up at him. His eyes were fixed upon the ground,
but his mother's question had caused a great change in his com-
plexion. His face was scarlet. But after the delay of a moment,
he very composedly replied to it, by pronouncing, with great
distinctness, the word "Yes."
"She is an admirable creature, nevertheless," returned his mo-
ther, earnestly ; " and it is hardly fair, perhaps, for me, or for you
either, to sit in judgment upon her, because she does not open her
heart to us with as much freedom as if we were in all respects
her equal."
"You think then," said the young man, with sudden vehe-
mence, " that she is as proud as her father ? "
"I have not said that, Eupert," replied his mother, quietly.
" She has too large and too clear a mind to render that possible ;
nay, I am not sure that it would be fair to call her proud at all ;
but without her being so, I think it very likely that custom, and
perhaps something like a feeling of propriety, may render it
almost impossible for her to forget the difference of rank between
ns, entirely."
" Could she have acquired such a feeling from her mother,
think you? " said Eupert, with something very like a sneer.
"jS^o!" was the decided reply of IMadame Odenthal to this
question.
" The mind of her mother," she added, with the tone of deep
feeling which the mention of her lost friend always produced,
"was both too lofty, and too bright, to admit any shadow of
prejudice, however slight, to tarnish it."
"I do not admire minds that are tarnished by prejudice,"
:• '. plied Eupert.
"JS'or should I," returned his mother, shaking her head re-
proachfully. " You are so sudden, so vehement in your interpre-
tations, that it is difficult to talk to you, Eupert. However, I do
not deny that there are contradictory qualities in the mind of
Gertrude, which often puzzle me. I very much doubt, if we
either of us understand her perfectly."
"!N"ay, for that matter, my dear mother," returned her son,
pettishly, "I freely confess that I do not understand her at all.
But my dulness on this subject can be of no great consequence
to anybody."
TAillLY PEIDE. 151
And with these words the yonng man took an agile leap over
the low fence, which divided the flower-garden from the vineyard ;
and left his mother to her meditations.
i;. ^? 131' i:- *
"When Eupert Odenthal declared that the character of Gertrude
was a mystery to him, he not only spoke with perfect sincerity,
but he said no more than Gertrude herseK might have echoed, had
she been questioned on the same subject. Again, and again, and
again, the harassed girl had endeavoured to arrange her thoughts,
and regulate her feelings, but for a long, long time, her efforts
were utterly in vain ; and the severest self-examination to which
she could submit herself, only left her with the renewed convic-
tion, that she knew not right from wrong.
The unfortunate blindness of her mother to the probability
that two young people, thrown together as Eupert and Gertrude
had been, might find at length that they each liked the society
of the other better than all that the earth had to offer them
besides, was the root and origin of all they had suffered, and were
about to suffer.
Had their intercourse been only the ordinary intercourse of
society, the danger arising from it would have been infinitely
less.
In that case, each might, perhaps, have learnt to think the other
charming, fascinating, admirable; but each might not have learned
to think the other the only human being extant, whose affection
and companionship were worth living for.
For a considerable time Eupert had very greatly the advan-
tage ; for the idea of his falling in love with the heiress of
Schwanberg, was too preposterous to find a place in his imagi-
nation ; and moreover, he looked at her and considered her as a
child, long after she had learned to think him the most admirable
of men.
He had, besides, the gi-eat advantage of being guarded from
the danger of discovering how well she deserved to be loved, by
the captiousness and caprice which ever accompanies such feelings
as she had for him, when um-equited. It was upon these caprices,
and the strange inequality of manner which they led to, which
had suggested to him — the idea that she inherited her father's
pride.
And then came the interlude of his friend Adolphe's proposal,
and rejection ; the manner of which naturally increased his belief
in her aboun^diug pride. . . . And so matters went on for a few
months longer, with very little change.
152 geetetjde; ob,
Tiicn came the fatal illness of Gertrude's mother, which led to
llupert's mother becoming one of the family ; and then it was
that the heart's case of the young man became seriously endan-
gered.
Guarded by the immense distance between them, the attractions
of the beautiful Gertrude had hitherto been contemplated by him
as something to wonder at, rather than to love ; but the presence
of his mother in the family had not only brought them more to-
gether, but had betrayed many traits in her character for which
he had never before given her credit.
Yet still he was, comparatively speaking, safe ; for, while he
never lost sight of the immense distance which their respective
stations really placed between them, he contrived to make it
greater still, by persuading himself that the brilliant Gertrude as
surely inherited her father's pride, as she could ever inherit his
estates. And this persuasion served him for a considerable time
as armour of proof . jN^either beauty, talent, temper, nor even her
tender watchfulness over her sinking mother, could find a crevice
at which to enter his heart ; and she had loved him (ten thousand
times better than she loved herself) for many months before it had
ever entered his head to believe it possible that any clear-sighted
man could love her.
Love her ! The idea seemed absolutely monstrous. Love a
woman who submitted with evident approbation to select her
husband from the pages of the Gotha Almanack — rejecting all
whose name could not be found in its pages !
J^o other absurdity could have produced so strong an effect on
the mind of Rupert as this, for it seemed to identify the father
and daughter, in his fancy ; and, most assuredly, of all the human
beings with whom his uneventful life had brought him in contact,
the Baron von Schwanberg appeared to him the most little-minded
and contemptible.
And thus it was with him till the eventful dinner-party, which
has been described, when the sight of Gertrude, radiant with
delight at her own success in her endeavour to place his mother
beside her, as an equal, instead of a dependant, so completely
overturned all his foregone conclusions respecting her pride, and
the inherited similarity of her character to that of her father,
that he at once fell into the other extreme, and would have
given half his future life to prove to her that now^ at least, he
did her justice.
But though he would have given half his life to prove this to
her, without forfeiting his own esteem by abusing the confidence
FA^IILT PEIDE. 153
whicli was placed in liim, lie would not, by his own good will,
have gone one inch farther ; and sharp mnst have been the ear,
and keen the eye, which conld have detected the removal of the
prejudices which had hitherto protected him.
13ut what ear so sharp, what eye so keen, as those of a young
girl in the position of Gertrude ? Alas ! she knew what love was
too well, to make any mistake as to the foregone heart-whole
indiifcrence of Eupert.
His kindling enthusiasm for everything that was great and
good, his ardent appreciation of everything sublime in poetry or
exalted in moral worth, were not more clearly seen, or more
deeply impressed upon her heart, than was her conviction of his
utter inditference to herself.
But she had made up her mind to endure it, with the stern
courage with which a high-toned spirit almost always resists
injustice. This must not be construed into meaning that Gertrude
thought she had a right to the admiration and the love of every
man who approached her. jN'othing could be farther from the
fact — nothing more repugnant to her character. On the contrary,
if there was any trait, — any feeling, — which could, in the least
degTee, justify the idea which Rupert had conceived of her inor-
dinate pride, it must be found in the utter indifference in which
she held the opinions concerning her, which were experienced
by all the individuals with whom she had hitherto made
acquaintance.
But there was a feeling at the very bottom of her heart, that
llupert ought to love her ; for, had she not waited for his opinions,
and accepted his judgment, day by day, almost from the first
hour that she had known him ? Had they not soared and dived
together to all the heights and depths of human thought, as
registered in the volumes among which they lived ?
The leading axiom which had pervaded the system upon which
^ladame de Schwanberg had educated her daughter, was, that she
should never permit a fallacy, which she knew to be such, to take
root in her mind, nor conceal from her any historical, moral, or
religious truth, which she herself recognised to be such.
It seems difficult (considering that ^Madame de Schwanberg
was a well-informed and right-thinking woman) to discover any
objection to such a system of education as this ; but, nevertheless,
under all the circumstances, it was far from being quite as safe
as it might be supposed to be ; for, though it can scarcely be said
that Madame de Schwanberg, upon any important point, halted
between two opinions, the tone of her mind, and of her teaching
154 _ geeteude; oe,
too, was weakened by a sort of timid consciousness that the turn-
ing her daughter away from the faith of her ancestors, was a
daring deed.
And yet it was her most earnest wish that Gei-trude should not
be a Romanist ; and it was, therefore, that she not only clung to
Madame Odenthal, as a better-taught Christian than herself, but
that she encouraged the freedom with which Rupert canvassed
the subject in the presence of her eagerly-listening Gertrude.
That he was to her not only a great Apollo, but a great divine,
long before any dream of love had mixed itself with her feelings,
is most certain ; and knowing how completely her confidence, her
judgment, and her taste hung upon him, as an authority even
superior to that of her mother, it did seem cruel and unjust on
his part, that he should always and for ever treat her as if it
were impossible that anything like real sympathy could exist
between them.
But such was very decidedly the case, as far as he was con-
cerned ; for so deeply was he persuaded that the Gertrude of the
library was only the obedient pupil of her amiable mother, while
the Gertrude of the drawing-room was the sympathising inheritor
of all her father's pride, as well as of all his acres, that whatever
he might occasionally have been tempted to think of her talents,
or her beauty, he accounted her as one so much out of the reach
of affection, that he would have been quite as likely to sigh for
the happiness and honour of becoming a cardinal, as of being the
chosen partner of her heart.
It was indeed a strange caprice of fortune which caused the
demolition of all the prejudice within which Eupert had
entrenched himself ; but, slight as seemed the cause, and sudden
the effect, it may be doubted if all the arts which ever woman
used could have been put in practice with so much success as
attended the almost childish caprice by which poor Gertrude, at
length, found her way to his heart.
This uneventful, though not unimportant retrospect, was neces-
saiy to make what follows, intelligible ; but the web is not un-
ravelled yet, for the struggle was not yet over in the heart of
Rupert. The sort of mist -through which he had been wont to
look at her, and which had made her appear so far unlike what
she really was, had, it is true, fallen from his eyes, and Gertrude
felt in every move that it was so. But nevertheless their position
relatively to each other, was still a very puzzling, and by no
means a very happy one. The misery of doubt and uncertainty,
however, was all on one side. The feelings of doubt had little
PAMILT PEIDE. 155
or no share in the emotions which were at work in the breast of
Eupert. Had he been asked to explain them, he could scarcely
have done it better, or more correctly, than in the words of the
well-known song,
" But if slie is not for me,
What care I how fair she be ? "
And he laboured so hard, poor youth, to keep this thought for
ever awake within him, that no sensation deserving the name of
Hope, had as yet been suffered to embellish his waking dreams.
From time to time, however,- he endeavoured to assist the pro-
cess of curing himself, which he was desperately determined to
effect, by labouring to persuade himself, as may be seen in the
sample given of his conversation with his mother, thnt the charac-
ter of Gertrude was capricious and contradictory.
Such, with the exception of some few occasional fits of un-
checked passionate adoration, was the condition of the unfortunate
Bupert, when the Baron von Schwanberg, his daughter, and suite
took their departure from the heavy walls within which the
proud owner was born, for the purpose of visiting the light and
glittering salons of Paris.
It would be difficult to say whether the heightened colour and
flashing eye, which was marked by other eyes than those of his
mother, should have been considered as indications of pain or of
pleasure ; it was evidently not with indifference, however, that
he took his place in the vehicle which was to convey him to
Paris.
IS'either would it have been easy to analyze the secret feelings
of the superb baron himself, at the moment he was preparing to
exchange his time-honoured authority at Schloss Schwanberg, for
the less assured, but more widely-extended influence, which he
hoped, with his fair daughter's assistance, to exercise in the gayest
capital in Europe.
But however widely extended was the sphere of this new-born
ambition, it was evident to his daughter, that his eye was still
steadily fixed upon one pre-eminently important object as the
gi'eat crowning glory of his ambition, for the last words he
addressed to her, before quitting his home, were these : "Gertrude !
you have, of course, packed up with your hands the Almanack
deGotha?"
156 geeteude; oe,
CHAPTER XXIV.
Though the Earon von Schwanberg was perfectly correct in
his estimates of the financial value of his own property, he was
a good deal mistaken as to the proportion which his own wealth
bore to that of many individuals with whom he was likely to be
brought into collision in the course of his present expedition.
He set out, however, with a very noble ^^ sheaf of hiJIs'''' on a
substantial Paris banker ; and not only was his mode of travelling
almost stately in its style, but his choice of a residence, on
arriving at Paris, was more in keeping with his own ideas of his
personal importance, than in exact proportion to his rent-roll.
Horeover, to do him justice, it had never occurred to him that
one means by which the travelling magnates of most countries
contrive to sustain their lofty flight, while on the wing, is
by not troubling themselves to look back to their forsaken nests
at home.
Xow this mode of relieving himself from the burden of two
establishments, had never occurred to him. He neither dismissed
servants, nor sold horses, and had never made any very close cal-
culations as to 'how much, or how little, his absence from home
would enable him to save towards defraying the expenses of his
foreign residence.
That no such calculations should ever suggest themselves as
necessary to Gertrude, may be easily believed ; for her father
would have thought it equally degrading and unnecessary,
had he ever attempted to clraw her attention to the details of
finance.
The young heiress, therefore, could scarcely have failed of
being a very happ}* young heiress, as she took possession of a
very elegant hotel in the Fauxbourg St. Honore, all the principal
aj^artmcuts of which had been engaged for their use, had she not
unfortunately fallen in love with a youth, who, in addition to a
good many other disqualifications for being a fitting object for
her devoted attachment, had as yet betrayed no signs whatever of
having any propensity to return it.
Xevertheless, the misery which certainly seemed likely to arise
from this untoward state of atfairs, was, for the time at least,
almost forgotten, in the novelty and the brilliance of the scenes
FAMILY PEIDE. lo7
to whicli she Tras immediately introclucecl. How matters might
have been managed for her if she had not previously made the
acquaintance of M. and Madame de Hauteville, it is difficult to
guess ; but the cordial liking which had sprung up between the
two ladies in the country, had been sustained by a very brisk
correspondence since they parted ; and it was the De Hautevilles
who had selected this charming apartment for them, the De
Hautevilles who had taken care that everything necessary to their
comfort awaited them on their arrival, and it was the De Haute-
villes who had made their joyous appearance at an early hour on
the following morning, to welcome them on their arrival, and to
offer their services in every possible way that could secure to the
strangers all the pleasures of novelty without any of its embar-
rassments. It is needless to dwell upon the facilities which such
assistance aff'orded for establishing the noble strangers as welcome
guests in every salon most desirable to enter, from the Eourbon
sovereign to the banker millionaire ; and in the case of our
"baron," ignorance was most decidedly bliss, for having been
once assured upon unimpeachable authority, that the De Haute-
villes were noble, it never entered his head to suspect that some
of the most splendid salons which were opened to him, owed
their gold and their damask to revenues which he would have
considered as scarcely more illustrious in their origin, than those
accruing from the dust-cart.
'Not having been long accustomed, however, to the dignity of
being attended by any gentleman of ''his suite" either at home
or abroad, he felt at first a little embarrassed by the necessity
which he was assured there existed for his taking Eupert with
him everywhere.
Having once assured him that it was right and proper that he
should be so attended, Gertrude did not again condescend to
allude to the subject. IS'or was there, as she perhaps foresaw, any
occasion that she should do so ; for not only did the baron himself
find an immense relief from always having at least one person
born for his will, within easy reach of him, but the succes du salon,
which the fine voice and good mien of the young man speedily
obtained, aided as it most cordially was, by the zealous efforts of
the De Hautevilles, would have rendered it much more difficult
to have kept him out of society, than to have introduced him
into it.
Nothing, in short, could apparently be more successful than
this expedition. It was not that the baron felt his consequence
increase — that, perhaps, was impossible — but he had the delight-
158 gerteude; ob,
ful consciousness that it was witnessed by a very considerably
larger number of distinguished personages than he could even
have hoped to assemble round him at Schloss Behwanberg.
Even the remarkable success of his secretary in every salon
they entered, caused him but little surprise, and no annoyance,
for he attributed it wholly to his own influence ; and when, upon
the first meeting between lladame de Hauteville and Gertrude's
humble dame de comj^af/nie, he saw the arms of the French elegante
literally open to receive her, he took the opportunity, the very
first time he found himself alone with his daughter, of ** im-
proving the occasion," by pointing out to her the great importance
to persons in his exalted station, of permitting none but estimable
individuals to appear under their patronage.
*'It is perfectly evident, my dear Gertrude," he said, with
great solemnity, " that persons like ourselves might do incalcu-
lable injury to the morals of society, did we not carefully select
the individuals whom, for our own pleasure, or convenience, we
place near us, from among the most estimable portion of oiu' in-
feriors. It must be as evident to you, my dear, as it is to me,
that if this very useful mother and son, whom we have attached
to our service, were as worthless, as we happily know them to be
the reverse, their being presented by me, would be quite enough
to ensure their being received in the manner you now witness.
This is certainly a great privilege, one of the greatest, perhaps,
belonging to our rank ; but, of course, we must take care not to
abuse it."
Gertrude listened to this, as she did to all his pompous
harangues, with a sort of fixed and mute attention, which she
flattered herself was as far from hypocrisy as the circumstances
of the case permitted, but still she felt that it loas hypocrisy ;
yet, " alas ! was it not a deeper hypocrisy still, to hide in her
heart all that nestled there? Had it not been for this bitter
thought, her present situation would often have been one of very
great enjoyment. The gaiety, the animation, the bright variety
of everything around her, so perfectly new, and so perfectly un-
like the manner of life to which she had been accustomed, would
have had great charms for her, had her heart been more at ease ;
nay, there were certainly moments during which all her secret
anxieties seemed forgotten, and when life appeared to her as a
state of existence capable of more enjoyment than she had ever
before thought it calculated to bestow.
The first serious misfortune, in truth, which befel her in
Paris, was occasioned by her being seen at a ball at the Tuileries
FAMILY PEIDE. . 159
by an Hungarian nobleman of high birth and large possessions,
wbo very speedily became convinced that she was in all respects
precisely the individual intended by special providence to assume
his name and share his honours.
It was not to herself, but, according to long- established con-
tinental fashion, to her fiither, that he communicated this im-
portant opinion. JsTothing could be more dignitied than the
manner in which he made this communication, unless, indeed, it
were the manner in which it was received ; and never, perhaps,
could any two gentlemen of their class have been seen to exhibit
themselves to greater advantage, than they both did during this
interview.
This splendid proposal was a very welcome one, even to the
Baron von Schwanberg; for he was himself aware of being so
very nearly dazzled by the constantly brilliant, yet constantly
changing scene which surrounded him, that he had more than
once become conscious of a painfully anxious feeling, lest the
great object of his existence might be lost merely from the
difficulty of selecting the best, amid so much that was desirable.
" Ja!" was the syllable which his heart ejaculated in reply
to the noble Count Hernwold's dignified, and in every way flat-
tering proposal; and " ja! " akeady trembled on his lips, when,
by a sudden expansion of intellect, which he immediately felt to
be providential, he recollected the solemn condition which must
be fulfilled before such a proposal could be accepted.
It would have been difficult, however, for any man to have
brought a greater number of stately words together, than the
baron contrived to 'do before he concluded the harangue by which
he contrived to make the Count understand, not without some
little difficulty, however, that it was not in his power to respond
to his polite proposal definitely at that moment.
" How, my Lord Baron ? " returned the astonished suitor,
waxing wrath and red ; "I am not to receive an answer ? "
" I must implore you, my Lord Count," returned the flattered
father, in a tone so meek and gracious, that a stranger to him
might almost have been beguiled into believing that he considered
himself of very little more consequence than all the other great
men in the world, *'I do beseech you," said he, "to believe,
what, in fact, it is quite impossible to doubt, namely, that no
father living, except, perhaps, the few who are crowned kings,
could listen to such a proposal as you have now done me the
honour to make, without feeling themselves gratified, both as
fathers and as nobles, in the very highest degree, ^^eyertheless,
160 geeteude; oe,
my Lord Count, I trust that I shall stand excused in your eyes,
if I venture to repeat that I must petition for as much delay as
may be required to announce your magnificent proposals to my
daughter."
Count Hernwold had risen from his chair upon hearing the
impalatable words which informed him that he must wait awhile
before he could receive an answer; and he stood face to face
before the baron, with an aspect still more haughty than his
own ; but no sooner did the well-pleased father give him to
understand that the delay required, was only for the purpose of
making the lady of his choice acquainted with the honour done
her, than the whole of the lover's ample visage became radiant
with satisfaction.
Count Hernwold was, beyond all question, a very handsome
man, though somewhat approaching to heaviness, both in feature
and stature. His age was that which, in the male, must be con-
sidered as the meridian of human life, having just completed his
fortieth year ; and the smile with which he reseated himself,
upon becoming aware that his proposals were to be referred to
no harsher tribunal than that of the fair lady's will, made him
look younger and handsomer still.
The interview ended by the most dignified and courteous
assurances on both sides, that the cementing the friendly re-
lations Avhich akeady existed between them, by the union pro-
posed, would be ever considered as the most happy event of their
respective lives.
Daring the time that the unfortunate Gertrude had been
making this involuntary conquest, she might fairly have been
considered as one of the most unhappy young ladies in Paris.
The first few weeks being over, during which a ceaseless suc-
cession of engagements had sometimes amused, and sometimes
bewildered her, she first felt weary, very heavily weary, and then
very profoundly miserable.
In truth, the self-examination to which she frequently subjected
herself, could not well lead to any other result. Hhe would
sometimes sit for hours in the well-guarded solitude of her own
chamber, and meditate upon her own position, and more minutely
still, upon her own conduct.
The writing she read upon the wall was certainly neither flat-
tering, nor consolatory.
Her conscience told her, that let the fruits or the follies of her
father be what they might, he was still a loving and most devoted
father to her. There was no hollow deception in his love, no
famut peide. 161
mixture of falsehood in any demonstration of it. And having
come to this conclusion, she turned her eyes to examine the sketch
which her conscience proceeded to draw of herself.
In return for true affection, she paid a heartless seeming of
deference, which, cold and the very reverse of loving (as at the
best, it must he), had not in her case, even the merit of being
sincere ; for she felt no real deference for him ; nor had she, at
the bottom of her heart, the most remote intention of obeying
him on any single point of sufficient importance to affect either
his happiness, or her own.
Yet though she had courage enough, and truth enough, to
enable her to finish this sketch, without leaving out a single fact,
or a single thought, that tended to complete it, there was no
feeling awakened by it which might lead her to atone for her
deficiencies.
"I hate myself! " she murmured to her own ears in contrite
bitterness of spirit ; but it was a species of contrition that
brought more of despair than of repentance with it.
And having reached this point of misery, she started from her
chair, paced with a passionate and hasty step the noble room that
was appropriated for her private use — examined anew the fasten-
ing which ensured her privacy, and then, throwing herself upon
her knees, implored Heaven to grant her strength to conquer the
fatal passion which had made her such a wretch.
She felt as if her desperate prayer was heard ; when she sud-
denly resolved to tax her memory through the long portion of her
past existence, during which her love for Kupcrt had influenced
her every feeling and her every thought, in order to revive the
bitter memory of all the proofs which he had demonstrated, that
he shared not the madness which destroyed her.
It would have been difficult for her self-accusing spirit to have
hit upon a severer penance for her faults.
Rare indeed were the traces left upon her memory of any word,
or any look, that could be fairly construed as betraying love ; and
of such love as she felt for him — not one.
**Is such a life worth having?" she exclaimed. *'"V\^oeth
HAVING !" she repeated, bitterly. ''Is not endiirahle, the better
word ? TThi/ should any human being submit to the endurance
of prolonged life, when conscious that every new day which
dawns upon them can only bring a renewal of misery ?
" Mature," she whispered to herself, " jS'ature has not endowed
us with the power to prolong our days, but she has bestowed upon
us the power of shortening them. . . . "Wliy should this power
12
162 geeteude; or,
be left us, but for our use and benefit, as all other power is?
Oh ! what a luxury "would it be, to lay my head upon my pillow,
knowing that I should sleep, and never wake again to the misery
of seeing his cold indifference ! "
For a few guilty, di^eadfiil moments, the miserable Gertrude
remained with her eyes closed in very frightful reverie ; but
passion is as sudden in transition, as vehement in demonstration ;
and the next sob that relieved her throbbing heart, was given to
repentance.
Poor girl ! with all her vehemence, and all her faults, she was,
perhaps, still more deserving of pity than of blame ; she was still
very young, and most unhappily situated. Madame Odenthal
would assuredly have been the confidante of all her feelings, had
she not been Rupert^ s mother ; but such confidence was now im-
possible. Would it not have been like pleading her cause to him,
and imploring his love ?
''Alas! " sighed poor Gertrude, as she meditated upon the im-
possibility of confiding her sorrows to this dear and only friend ;
*'I feel at times as if I were mad enough for anything. And
perhaps I am — mad enough for anything but that ! "
She wanted, however, no right-minded confessor to tell her,
that in her bold longing for death, she had sinned against the
benign law of nature, which teaches us, till reason itself is shaken,
that the consciousness of existence is a blessing, and that it is the
will of our Creator that it should be so.
This truth soon rushed back upon her heart, and brought re-
pentance Avith it ; and then she set herself to think deliberately
of her position, and patiently endeavoured, as far as her agitated
spirits would permit her to do so, to discover, amidst a choice of
evils, what line of conduct she could pursue which would be the
most likely to reconcile herself to her own conscience, and most
contribute to the happiness of her father.
It had so happened that on that evening, at a ball given by one
of the magnates of the Paris season, Eupert had for more than
one dance become the partner of one of the loveliest girls in the
room. It had happened, too, that he had not once asked her to
dance ; a liberty which had become almost a usage, once in the
course of every evening that they met in a ball-room.
This omission on his part was by no means accidental, having
been occasioned by his over-hearing a royal duke declare, that he
must contrive to get one waltz with the beautiful Baroness de
Schwanberg, as there was no Frenchwoman who could compete
with her in her national dance.
FAiriLY TEIDE. 163
On hearing this, the discreet Eiipert determined that his
modest claim should not be made till this dance with the noble
duke had been performed ; but some accident or other prevented
its ever being performed at all ; and the consequence of this was,
that the ball began, and ended, without poor Gertrude's having
received the anxiously-looked-for invitation from her father's
modest secretary, to take the accustomed *' tour de ivaltzy —
''"What great events from little causes spring! "
The bitterness of Gertrude's disappointment certainly bore no
reasonable proportion to its importance ; but it may be said in
her defence, that she had long been kept in a state of very tor-
turing uncertainty, and her mind harassed ; and her spirits
weakened by this, had left her unable to judge fairly either of his
conduct, or her own.
She retired to her room that night in the full persuasion that
she was not only an object of perfect indifference to him, but
that he had seen — or suspected — what her feelings were for him ;
and that his neglect of her throughout the evening proceeded
from a friendly and honourable wish to cure her of a folly which
he did not share, and which could only be productive of misery
to her.
Yet, in the midst of the agony produced by this persuasion,
she did him justice ; nay, she did him more than justice ; for she
not only gave him credit for the honourable discretion which had
dictated the cautious reserve with which he always treated her ;
but for the absence of all such weakness on his part as might
have led him to luish that they had been differently situated.
That night, or, at least, all that was left of it, was passed by
the unhappy girl in very earnest and very praiseworthy efforts
to take such a review of her own position, and the duties which
it reasonably imposed on her, as might enable her so to act, as in
some degree to reconcile her to herself.
Nor was this truly conscientious effort made in vain — such
efforts rarely are ; and just as the sun began to peep through the
crevices of her window shutters, she fell into a peaceful sleep,
which lasted till Teresa thought/' it would be quite nonsense to
let it last any longer.''
12—2
164 GERTRUDE; OR,
CHAPTER XXy.
The results of that niglit's meditation were more enduring than
the sweet sleep which followed it. Gertrude's first sensation on
awaking was, that she had undergone some violent change ; nor
were the more deliberate thoughts which followed, at all calcu-
lated to remove this impression. If she had herself described
this change, it is probable that she might have said : *' I had lost
my senses before it, but now I have recovered them."
"Were I to attempt giving a detailed description of the state of
Gertrude's mental condition, as it had been when she awoke on
the previous day, and as she felt it to be now, the discrepancy
would appear too strong to be rationally accounted for ; but those
who have studied the strange varieties of human character, know
that what might be truly termed unnatural in one, may, with
equal justice, be pronounced essentially natural in another.
There was so much of the earnestness of truth in the character
of Gertrude, that, whatever she felt, she felt deeply ; and what-
ever she purposed to do, she purposed firmly. ISTor, on the
present occasion, were reasons wanting to justify the change
which she resolved to achieve, not only in her future conduct, but
her future feelings.
*'The madness has lasted long enough," she murmured.
"Young as I am, I have already spent whole years of life in
doteing upon one who doted not on me ; and, more sinful still,
I have been hardening my heart during the whole of this ill-spent
time against my own father. Alas ! alas ! Of how much finer
a quality is the love of his heart than the love of mine ! And
yet, have I ever for a moment ceased to consider myself as his
superior in all intellectual, ay, and in all moral qualities ? * Take
physic, vanity,' clear your vision a little before you repose on
your own view of the case, with such perfect satisfaction."
It would be difficult to imagiue any state of things more
favourable for the gracious reception of Count Hernwold's pro-
posals than was thus produced.
Gertrude had breakfasted in her own dressing-room — an ar-
rangement by no means uncommon with her since her abode in
FAMILY PEIDE. 165
Paris — as her own hours of rising had become later, while those
of her father had remained unchanged. Madame Odenthal had
been her companion at breakfast, but had left the room when her
father entered it. She perceived, the moment he entered the
room, that some great event had happened, and was not left long
in doubt as to the nature of it. The "Almanack de Gotha" was
in his hand, and he flourished it triumphantly over his head as he
approached her.
Gertrude was very pale when the door opened upon her, but
before the baron and his Almanack had reached her table, she was
red enough.
*' You were inspired, Gertrude ! My noble-hearted Gertrude,
you were, you must have been inspired, when the admirable idea
occurred to you of consulting this precious volume as a preserva-
tive against every wish of contaminating the purity of your race,
by uniting yourself with any whose ancestors or connections are
not found to have their names enrolled in this invaluable
volume! "
These words were quite enough to enlighten her upon the
nature of the errand which had brought her father to visit her,
instead of his waiting for her to make a visit to him, as was her
daily usage.
Her feelings would have been vastly different had a similar
circumstance occurred to her on the preceding day. The sight of
her father and his Almanack then, would have roused within her
a spirit of resistance which might have led to very painful
domestic results ; but now the case was very different. For one
short moment, for half a moment perhaps, she again felt her
wicked wish to die. . . . Eut in the next, she positively breathed
a silent, desperate exclamation, which, if it had been expressed
in words, must have been rendered, " Thank God ! "
Her noble father, however, was much too full of the business
which brought him there, to have any speculation to bestow upon
her manner of receiving it. The fact that the high-born, wealthy,
and illustrious Count Hernwold had asked for the honour and
happiness of her hand in marriage, was uttered once, twice,
thrice, before he di^eamed of pausing to ascertain what her answer
might be.
Eut was he not justified in this ? Did he not carry his justifi-
cation in his hand ? So, no less than three diff'erent pages did his
well-taught fingers turn, and on each did the name and title of
Count Hernwold meet his search.
** "We have not waited for nothing, have we, my Gertrude ?
166 geeteude; oe,
These alliances are all but royal, and nowhere, I will he hold to
say, could a man so allied have made a better choice."
While this happy rhapsody was pronounced again, again, and
again, with but little variation cither in words or tone, the bride-
elect was occupied in recalling her meditations of the preceding
night, and again she inwardly breathed, " Thank God! "
^Nor was she far wrong in thinking that such a termination
would be better than the continuation of the lamentable state in
which she had already passed what ought to be the brightest, if
not the happiest years of life. To love, and love, and love in vain,
with the additional misery of knowing that her love was both
sinful, as an act of disobedience to her father's will, and con-
temptible in her own eyes, from the thought that it had been
never solicited, was surely more dreadful still.
It was not many hours since she had arrived at the full con-
viction that this last crowning misery of Eapert's indifference
had been 'proved beyond the reach of hope to contradict it; and
if it had been her habit, as it was that of her father, to persuade
herself that everything which befel her was in consequence of a
deviation from the laws of nature, permitted for her particular
gratification and advantage, she would assuredly have believed
that this opportune proposal of marriage from a person whose
name was to be found in the "Almanack de Gothaj" was the
result of a special dispensation of Providence.
Her manner of receiving the intelligence thus brought, was,
therefore, not exactly triumphant ; but, though she again became,
for a few moments, extremely pale, she displayed no indication
of repugnance.
'MYas it not a blessed dispensation that brought us here, Ger-
trude?" he said, clasping his hands together, in an attitude of
devotion. "Our thanks must be rendered in our own chapel,
Gertrude; and Father Alaric must be instructed to select proper
services for the occasion. And now tell me, my dear love," he
continued, "in what apartment you would wish to receive my
Lord Count, when he waits upon you to offer his personal homage ?
"Will you admit him here, Gertrude ? "
The wretched girl half rose from her chair ; but, fortunately,
she did not raise her eyes from the floor ; if she had, not even the
baron's seven-fold shield of dulness could have prevented him
from seeing something there which would have startled him.
In that short moment, however, Gertrude found time to resolvG
that all she had alreadv suffered, should not have been sufl'eied
in vain, and that the fate she had decided upon for herself should
FAillLY PEIDE. 167
not be rendered more lingering, and more bitter still, by any
wavering feebleness in her manner of meeting it.
She instantly reseated herself, and replied, in a tone which had
perhaps a touch of haughtiness in its dignity : ''Xo, Sir, if you
please ; not here. In my estimation, there would be greatly too
much familiarity in receiving such a visit here. Let him find me
in the great drawing-room, if you please."
The baron clasped his hands, raised his eyes to Heaven, and
whispered, quite audibly, his fervent thanks to the Virgin Mary,
for having inspii'cd the heart of his child with such noble
feelings !
There are, probably, many causes, none of them very strictly
philosoi)hical, which may enable a woman — and even a young one
— to assume an aspect of composure, when her pulses may not be
making very healthful movements. Some such must have been
at work at the heart of Gertrude during this tremendous visit
from Count Hernwold ; for it would have been difficult for any
young lady to have displayed more perfect self-possession.
The interview, however, did not last long ; but when, exactly
at the moment when everything desirable upon the occasion had
been uttered, Gertrude rose to leave the room, the Count, as he
handed her to the door, declared, with no faltering accent, that
he considered himself at that moment to be, beyond any possible
reach of comparison, the happiest man upon the surface of the
globe called earth.
CHAPTER XXVI.
As Eupert Odenthal had lived for several years of his life
without being at all certain what his own feelings were with
respect to the Bareness Gertrude von Schwanberg, it would be
hardly fair to expect that the faithful chronicler who has under-
taken to relate his adventures, should venture to state any positive
opinion on the subject at this very particularly perplexed period
ot his existence.
Let it suffice to say, that whatever his feelings were, on
hearing that the young lady was about to be married immediately
to the Count Hernwold, he never uttered a single word expressive
ox them, to any one.
168 geetetjde; oe,
His mother once touclied upon the subject, upon finding herself
tete-d-tete with him, shortly after the important news had been
announced throughout the family, but the conversation was cut
short very abruptly by his starting up and leaving the room ; but
ere he passed through the door, he turned to her, and said, ''For
mercy's sake, my dearest mother, do not begin haranguing me on
this subject! I hear of it from every soul in the house, and out
of it, till I am positively sick of the pompous old fool's name !
Just fancy what it must be for me to have my lord, the baron,
rehearsing the titles and alliances of his strutting son-in-law
from morning to night ! Don't you begin on the same theme, or
I really shall be tempted to run away."
His mother smiled, and nodded very good-humouredly, fairly
confessing, as she said, that they were likely to hear enough of
my Lord the Count, without entertaining each other on the
subject.
And so they parted, and Madame Odenthal kept her promise,
and did not trouble her son with any further observations on the
subject.
But she did not promise that she would not herself, when in
silence and in solitude, dwell upon this subject with the most
heartfelt satisfaction.
Though far, very far, from knowing, or even suspecting the
whole truth as to the feelings of Gertrude or of Eupert for each
other, she had, nevertheless, often spent anxious hoiu^s, both by
night and by day, lest these two young people, so perilously
thrown together, might learn at last to love each other too
well.
To have become a spy upon both, or either of them, would
have been repugnant to her nature ; and her disposition in this
respect had, doubtless, kept her ignorant of much that might
have been very obviously evident to one of a different temper.
However, there was much that was very puzzling and contmdic-
tory in the conduct of both ; so that what she half made up her
mind to believe one day, she rejected as perfectly untenable the
next.
Eut, for all that, she could not be said to be at all easy in her
mind upon the subject, and most assuredly it was a great relief
to her to hear that her beautiful Gertrude was about to become
Countess of Hernwold.
Eut the silence of Madame Odenthal on the subject, or the
silence of her son either, mattered little, and was noticed less ;
for so many, both in the house and out of it, appeared to talk of
FAilILT PELDE. 169
nothing else, that their voices on the subject could scarcely have
been heard, and were certainly not missed.
It is not my fanlt, if my readers are not already aware, that
the Baron von Schwanberg was a very pompous gentleman ; and
with so veiy splendid a marriage in prospect for his daughter,
they need scarcely be told now that his preparations for it were
made to ring, not only through his own abode, and those of all
his numerous fine friends and acquaintance, but that the most
fashionable tradesmen in Paris soon became aware, that if they
knew their own interest, they would speedily set every available
agent at work, in order to secure a share of the golden harvest
which this union of wealth with wealth, seemed to promise
them.
But though the Count Hernwold was a very pompous man, on
some points perhaps almost as pompous as his magnificent
intended father-in-law, he had the discretion to give vent to his
own overwhelming consciousness of superiority, less in words
than in actions.
He had informed this delighted father-in-law, that he con-
ceived it would be absolutely necessary for sustaining properly
the position of himself and his noble bride, that, in addition to
their various country residences, they should have a permanent
hotel in the most distinguished quarter of Paris.
IS'ow if, instead of concluding this dignified announcement by
the word Paeis, Count Hernwold had named Peeu, the baron
would scarcely have had sufficient presence of mind to testify, or
even to feel astonishment ; for the Baron von Schwanberg knew
that there might be some few who were superior on some points.
Great as he was, he was not, for instance, one of the Heaven-
elected few, destined to wear a regal crown ; and he could hardly
be said to have ever expressed any positive discontent at this
dispensation of Providence. He knew perfectly well that the
earth contained but very few crowned heads ; and it was, doubt-
less, this consideration which had enabled him to reconcile
himself with so little difiiculty to not being one of the number.
But, this class set aside, he certainly had a most comfortable
conviction, that he had an exceedingly good right to compete
with all the rest of the human race, without running any great
risk of finding a superior, or even an equal, among them.
Yet, gTcatly as he gloried in his noble pedigree and his large
possessions, he was quite aware that he could not hold the supe-
rior station assigned him by Providence, had he no other claim to
pre-eminence.
170 geetetjde; oe,
He knew that there were pedigrees as ancient, and races as
pure as his own, and that there were sundry estates as Large, or
larger. But he had, certainly, neyer yet made up his mind to
helicve that, take him for all in all, there could be found another
individual equal to himself in all respects.
He probahly never had asked himself whether he thought that
any other man living could stand as upright, or balance himself
as securely upon his legs, as he could do ; but, on the other hand,
it is pretty certain, that if ho had asked himself such a question,
he would have answered, to the best of his knowledge and belief,
Ko.
On one point, and one point oxly, had he as yet brought himself
to believe that he might meet a superior ; and it so happened
that the Count Hernwold was one of the distinguished person-
ages to whom he was willing to accord this superiority.
In short, the Earon von Schwanberg felt that his destined
son-in-law was more a man of the world, that is to say, of the
fashionable world, than himself. This superiority was, of course,
the more readily accorded by the baron, from the obvious fact,
that no man can be in two places at once ; and therefore it was
impossible that he could, while passing his days in the stately
dignity of Ms own castle, be enabled to become a well-known
and distinguished member of the fashionable world in Paris.
Had hisdaughter been a son, it is likely enough that he would
have preferred a continuation of the same remote dignity for him,
to every other ; but since his arrival at Paris, he seemed some-
how or other to have become aware that there was more fuss
made about a well-born woman of fashion , than even about a
stiff-backed old baron, pf sixteen quarters.
Moreover, he had acquired a sort of dim consciousness that his
own departed lady, notwithstanding her close alliance with the
Gotha Almanack, would have been a more brilliant and a more
renowned personage in the salons of Paris, than she had ever
been within the venerable walls of Schloss Schwanberg.
Such thoughts as these had naturally prepared him to listen
to whatever Count Hernwold proposed, with a very decided con-
viction that he must be right; and the Count, with all his
conscious superiority in such matters, had no great difficulty in
persuading the wealthy father of his beautiful fiancee, that how-
ever costly his plans for their future menage might appear, the
birth, the station, the beauty, and the future fortune of his peer-
less daughter, rendered it no more than she had a right to
expect.
FAMILY miDE.
171
"What iavisli expenditure was it possible lie could propose,
which would not have appeared a positive duty under such cir-
cumstances ?
Upon one or two occasions, soon after this brilliant marriage
Jiad been proposed and accepted, it happened that a sort of
generous rivalship displayed itself between the two gentlemen,
as to which of them should manifest the most profuse generosity
in the preparations that were making for its celebration ; and
there was certainly more than one Parisian tradesman who pro-
fited largely by this magnificent spirit of emulation.
As to the fair idol who received the ofi'eriugs, had she been
formed of wood or stone, she could scarcely have been more in-
different as to the beauty or the value of all that was thus laid
upon her altar.
There was one point, however, on which, as the preparations
went on, she soon ceased to be indifi^erent ; and this variation
from the dignified tranquillity with which she heard of, or re-
ceived all the various oucriugs and preparations which marked
the progress of the great aff'air of which all Paris was talking,
arose upon the subject of the house that was about to be pre-
pared for her reception in this gayest of cities.
"\yhen it was definitely settled between the baron and the
Count that Gertrude ivas to have a mansion fitted up for her in
Paris, it was Count Hernwold who, having convinced the baron
of the necessity of it, seemed naturally enough to think that the
pleasant task of selecting and embellishing it, devolved on him ;
and of course the execution of this task was rendered more agree-
able still, by the necessity it occasioned of very frequent reference
and consultation to, and with, the lovely lady in whose service
he was employed.
j^ow this, after being exposed to it for a short time, became
too great an annoyance to Gertrude to be endured.
Since the tremendous hour of self-examination which led to
the atonement she was now making for all the disobedient feel-
ings of her past life, she had persevered in the resolution then
taken with unflinching constancy ; feeling, perhaps, that any
and every misery was preferable to what she had endured, when
writhing, during the long hours of that dreadful night, under the
intolerable weight of a self-accusing conscience.
But it appeared to her, that the sitting to listen to Count
Hernwold's pompous boastings of all the expense, as well as all
the trouble he meant to bestow upon the mansion which it was
his purpose to purchase, and decorate expressly for her, was a
172 GERTErDE; OR,
penance that no duty called upon her to endure. There was
something too in her manner of discussing the subject, which
seemed perpetually calling for her gratitude ; and as she felt
none, she did not think it a part of her duty to affect it.
Why should she feel grateful ?
She knew perfectly well that she was heiress to a very large
fortune ; for alas ! poor girl, the knowledge of this fact had been
the source of all the misery of her life.
But hateful as the consciousness of this had so often been to
her, it might at least, she thought, sare her from any feeling of
gratitude for having a suitable house prepared for her.
*' Gratitude should be a delightful feeling ! " thought the
melancholy girl. *' It should be such as I used to feel for my
dear mother, every day, and all day long. . . . Such as I have
felt, and must ever feel, for llupert, though he does not love me !
But before he knew what love meant, he saved my life at the
risk of his own. I can feel grateful for that . . . but I cannot,
and will not, feel grateful because a man thinks it proper to pre-
pare a fine house for himself and his family to live in. Count
Hernwold is quite aware of the large fortune which must even-
tually be mine, and the fine house will some day or other be paid
for by my father."
There was no form of words, however, that she could hit upon,
by which she could civilly remind her noble lover of this fact ;
and at length it occurred to her, that the only means by which
she could escape his annoyance, which she shrank from as a very
painful addition to the various other miserable feelings which
beset her, was by suggesting to her father, that it would be more
accordant to the dignity of her position, as his daughter and his
heiress, that the house preparing for her should be prepared by
him, and not by the Count.
AYhen she began her harangTie, her father prepared to listen
to her with a smiling countenance, his hands cosily folded over
each other, and with the self-satisfied look which he generally
wore, when she was talking to him, and which indicated that ho
was sure of being pleased — as, of course, he could not fail to be —
as he considered every word she uttered, was spoken, as it were,
by inheritance, and therefore, in fact, emitted by himself.
It was probably this persuasion which at once reconciled him
to her proposal, which, to say the truth, was extremely far from
being a rational one, and could only be excused in the poor
captious bride-elect, by her profound ignorance of the ordinary
usages of the world in matters of business.
FAiriLT PEIDE. 173
The superb baron himself, however, was certainly not much
more familiar with such matters than she was ; but, never-
theless, it is possible he might have demurred a little at hearing
this unexpected proposal, even though it proceeded from her,
had it not been that it touched directly upon his ruling passion
for being the first, and, in fact, the only very important person,
in every business that was going on.
This was quite enough to procure his consent, and ensure his
perfect happiness, as long as the bustling business lasted.
Of course, the first thing to be done, was to write to Count
Hernwold, informing him of his paternal wish to be himself the
purchaser, and the arranger of all the domestic elegancies and
comforts which were to make the splendid dwelling provided for
his d[iughter, worthy of the highly-honoured lady who had been
selected as its mistress.
The Count was a good deal surprised by the receipt of this
epistle, as he had certainly expected that the furnishing the
elegant dwelling he had chosen was to be done at his expense, as
well as the purchasing it. However, he was not a person to be
at all likely to quarrel with such an arrangement as that now
proposed. He was certainly possessed of a large landed property,
but being one of those self-indulgent individuals who never refuse
themselves any gratification as long as it is in their power to
obtain it, he was as little desirous of spending money, when the
doing so would not increase his gratification, as of sparing it
when it would.
He wrote, therefore, a sort of playful answer to the baron's
pompous announcement of his intentions, declaring that to him,
and to him only, would he have yielded the delightful task of
decorating the palace of his future sovereign.
Count Hernwold, in fact, was one of those gentlemen who, as
the saying goes, had lived all the days of his life ; and the con-
sequence of so doing was, that, beautiful as he thought the
Baroness Gertrude von Schwanberg, he would no more have
thought of marrying her, than of marrying her maid Teresa, had
he not known her to be an heiress, as well as a beauty.
It is certain, however, that it had never entered his head as a
thing possible, that he might immediately turn her wealth to
account, by getting her father to furnish his house for him ; and
the proposition aftorded him all the pleasure of a most agreeable
surprise, as well as being extremely convenient.
Kot indeed that Count Hernwold contemplated any difficulty
in achieving this necessary work himself, for his estate was large.
174 geetei'De; oe,
and his credit good ; but, neyerthclcss, like most other men of
fashion, he would occasionally have been well pleased to have
found a little more ready money at his bankers than he had been
able to leave there. For, though by no means deserving the
epithet oi gamller, Count Hernwold liked play, and would at any
time have considered himself as being in an extremely disagree-
able position had he entered a salon where this pleasant excite-
ment was to be found, with the consciousness that he had better
not play, because it would be inconvenient to him to lose.
jSTor was he by any means sufficiently in love to prevent his
still wishing to pass the last animating hour or two of the day,
where play, in a gentlemanlike and honourable style, was going
on.
Eut since the important affair of his marriage had been ar-
ranged, he had been rather shy of risking the price even of a
bracelet or a mirror, for a certain degree of inconvenience would
have been the consequence, had he lost it ; and Count Hernwold
detested inconveniences of all kinds, as heartily as we are assured
the evil spirit hates holy water.
The having his fine house furnished for him, without his pro-
ducing a single rap to pay for it, was, therefore, an accident quite
as welcome as it appeared to him whimsical, and he became
gayer and more debonair than ever.
But the relief which this arrangement produced to Gertrude,
was great indeed ; for not only did it exonerate her from the
necessity of listening to daily statements of the gallant and tender
anxiety with which the Count was decorating their future blissful
abode ; but she was relieved also from the heavy necessity of
hearing her father rehearse, in his most oppressive style of elo-
quence, her extreme good fortune in having captivated a noble-
man, whose personal merits, and high connections, rendered him,
in every way, so suitable an alliance for the heiress of Schwan-
berg.
That her aching, weary heart felt this relief, and that she was
thankful for it, is most certain ; but she scarcely allowed herself
to dwell upon the consolation, gTcater still, of being left alonCy
positively alone, for several hours in every day ; for the baron,
though deeply conscious that he was the source and head-spring
of everything that influenced the destiny of his family, had never
been a busy-body, and would at the present crisis have felt
greatly at a loss how to perform the task he had undertaken, had
he not enlisted Madame Odenthal as his assistant.
The time had been, when Gertrude would have very painfully
FAMILY PEIDE. 175
missed the society of this long-tried and mnch-loved friend during
the many hours of the day that she was djiving ahout with the
baron, from shop to shop, and from warehouse to warehouse, in
order to assist him in selecting the vast variety of articles neces-
sary for completing the task he had undertaken ; but now the
case was different.
Excepting Paipert himself, his mother was the person with
whom she most cbeaded to be tete-a-tete.
It is true, that from the time of her engagement to Count
Hernwold, Gertrude had become a very altered person to her.
She was, indeed, still observant, still gentle, still careful of her
accommodation and comfort ; but the tone of loving familiarity
was i;one.
Had Madame Odenthal believed such a change possible, she
would have thought that Gertrude no longer considered her as a
person with whom she could converse in a tone of perfect equality;
but as often as this obvious idea suggested itself, it was very
nearly rejected, both by the clear head and the warm heaii; of
the affectionate Englishwoman.
Had she not known her from a child ? And was it possible
that such a nature as she had watched in Gertrude for long years
of the most familiar union, could be suddenly changed in every
feeling of the heart, and every process of the understanding,
because she was about to be married to a middle-aged gentleman,
whom her father had chosen for her husband ?
The answer to this questioning would have been a decisive and
indignant negative, had not facts occurred too strong to be set
aside by any foregone conclusions.
Gertrude contrived, without any very positive breach of civility,
however, to keep out of her way ; and from the very day that
her engagement to Count Hernwold was announced, the good
woman had never found herself tete-a-tete with for her five
minutes together, without the occurrence of something or other
which was converted into an excuse for their being separated.
The position of Madame Odenthal in the family, where for the
last year or two she had found so comfortable a home, was in-
deed strangely altered in more ways than one, for "\vithin a week
or so of the painful change she had remarked in the manners of
Gertrude towards her, she endured the great additional sorrow of
being informed that her worthy brother, Father Alaric, had been
suffering from a severe illness, and that he expressed so earnest a
wish for the immediate return of Eupert, as to leave no possibility
of refusing it.
176 • GEETErDE; OE,
Eupert himself, though so long an alien from the little vicar-
age which had hcen his early home, testified as much eagerness
to comply with this request, as the good priest in making it ; and
within twenty-four hours after receiving the letter which sum-
moned him, Ptupert had taken a hurried and agitated leave of his
mother, and of the family of which he had so long been a member,
and was on his road to his former humble dwelling at Francberg.
CHAPTEE XXYIL
Goon Madame Odenthal was sorry for the illness of her brother,
and sony for the absence of her son ; but she was considerably
comforted, especially for the last-mentioned misfortune, by the
marked change which again became visible in the manner of the
capricious Gertrude towards herself.
AVhether it were occasioned by the pity she felt for her, for
having lost the society of her son, who was so justly beloved, or
from a feeling that, perforce, she must be well-nigh weary of the
assiduous attendance required of her by the indefatigable baron ;
in short, whatever might be the cause, it very speedily became
evident to Madame Odenthal that there was no longer to be any
estrangement between her and her long-loved Gertrude.
Kow then, that they were again on their former confidential
terms together, her dame de compagnie ventured to hint to her
that she thought the baron was going to greater expense than
could be necessary in furnishing and decorating a house which
was to be her residence for only a third part of every year.
" If I mistake not," she added, ''you are to pass four months
out of every twelve at your own beautiful Schloss Schwanberg,
four at Count Hcrnwold's fine place in Hungary, and the remain-
ing foui' — merely the winter season, you know — in Paris."
Gertrude appeared to listen to her very attentively, and she
had taken the hand of her old friend in hers, and fixed her loving
eyes upon her face, in a way that could not leave any doubt as
to her being fully engrossed by what she was saying ; and yet
there was something absent and vague in the tone in which she
rJQIILY PEIDE. 177
replied — "I suppose papa thinks that I shall like to have fine
furniture, and, if so, it is very good-natiu'ed of him to take so
much trouble about it."
"And is he right, Gertrude?" returned Madame Odenthal,
looking anxiously at her. *' Will it give you great pleasure to
have all this fine, costly furniture ? "
Gertrude Tvithdrew her eyes from the examining glance of her
companion, but she did not withdraw her hand, sitting for a
minute or two motionless and silent. " Answer me, dear love ! "
said ILadame Odenthal.
" What was your question, dear ? " returned Gertrude, shaking
her head, as if to rouse herself from the fit of absence into which
she seemed to have fallen.
" I asked you, dear Gertrude, whether your father was right
in thinking that it will give you pleasure to have your house so
splendidly furnished ? "
Gertrude was again silent for a few seconds, and then replied,
in a voice that expressed anything rather than anticipated
pleasure, "If the house, and all that he is putting into it, were
more splendid than any other in Paris, or in the world, it would
not, and could not, create in me the slightest sensation of satis-
faction."
The delicate complexion of Madame Odenthal turned from pale
to red, and from red to pale again. The gloomy words, and still
more gloomy manner in which the unfortunate Gertrude made
this decltiration, seemed in an instant to remove everything like
doubt from the mind of her truly unhappy friend, and to realise
all the miserable suspicions which had long haurrted her respect-
ing the real state of poor Gertrude's feeling on the subject of her
approaching marriage.
Madame Odenthal had been long debating with herself as to
whether it would be most kind or most cruel to encourage the
poor girl in opening her heart to her on the subject; and it is
probable the decision would have been in favoiu' of confidence,
instead of reserve, had it not been for the again-and-again re-
jected, and the again-and-again returning, suspicion of the real
object of the unfortunate heii'ess's aftection. It was this which
prevented her from seeking a confidence which she cbeaded to
receive ; and even now, when the avowal of her repugnance to
the marriage seemed more than half made, she affected to mis-
understand the feeling she expressed, and replied, " I quite
agTee with you, my dear, in thinking that many people waste
both time and money very idly in the decoration of theii' dweU-
13
178 geeteude; oe,
ings. Comfort is, in my opinion, much more essential than
splendour."
'' Comfort, Madame Odenthal? Comfort for me ? Where am
I to look for it? In uniting myself to such a man as Count
Hernwold?"
Eelicved by these words, melancholy as they were, from the
dread which haunted her of hearing the name of the man she
preferred to him, Madame Odenthal felt her courage revive, and,
after giving a moment's rapid reflection to the subject, replied:
" If you do not love him, Gertrude, it is not yet too late to say
so. Your father's love for you is unbounded; and did he know
that you disliked Count Hernwold, he would speedily find means
to break the engagement."
''IS'o, Madame Odenthal!" replied Gertrude, gently; "my
father's love for me is not unbounded; but, even if it were so, it
might not be in his power to make me happy. But this is idle
talking. Your observation would not be useless, if you were to
say that my good father loves me dearly. I know he does ; I
know that he loves me so dearly, as well to merit that I should
love him a little in return. Eut I fear I have never yet loved
him as I ought to do. My spirit is a perverse spirit. There is
somethins: within me that will not let me act as I would wish to
do. Eut hitherto, perhaps, he has never had the misfortune to
discover how very far I am from being what he wishes me to be
. . . and from what he believes I am ! He may be dead, and I
too, my dear old friend, before I shall find so good an opportunity
of pleasing him. I am quite determined to marry Count Hern-
wold. You must see, as plainly as I do, that papa is perfectly
delighted — perfectly happy — at the idea of my doing so. It can
make very little difi'erence to me who it is I marry ; and I do
not mean that you, or anybody else, should ever hear me com-
plain about it. Only I don't see any reason why I should add to
my sins by pretending to love the carpets and curtains."
"Madame Odenthal felt relieved. She plainly perceived that
Gertrude had no intention of so completely taking her into her
confidence as to allude to any other attachment ; and whether she
were right or wrong in suspecting that her own son was the
object of it, she being left in apparent ignorance, was, on every
account, most desirable.
Gertrude had, fortunately, not been looking at her ; indeed, she
evidently avoided doing so, fixing her eyes immovably upon a
fragment of silk which she was unravelling.
Lightly, therefore, and with no appearance of suspecting that
PAMILY PEIDE. 179
more was meant than met the ear, Madame Odenthal acquitted
her of all blame for not being more in love with her line furniture,
and even ventured to say that she began to wish the baron him-
self had a less violent passion for it.
"I am certainly very ignorant in all such matters," said the
good woman; "bnt it seems to me that your papa must be
spending a very large sum of money. Did he ever tell you, my
dear, the amount of the sum which it was his purpose to expend
on vour furniture ? "
Gertrude smiled.
*'I thought you knew my father better than you now appear
to do," said she. "I can no more fancy that he would eonde-
Bcend to name a limit to the sum he destined for such a purpose,
than that he would inquire how much the dinner of to-morrow
would cost, before he sat down to it. Xor do I suppose that
there is any reason in the world why he should do so." lladame
Odenthal did not immediately reply to this ; and, indeed, her
silence lasted so long, that Gertrude, looking up from her ravel-
lings, said, with some quickness, "What are you thinking of,
dear friend"? "
"You will laugh at me again, if I tell you," replied Madame
Odenthal, shaking her head.
"And if I do, you ought to be glad of it. I was afraid that
I had left off laughing. I suppose it is the near approach of all
the prodigious splendour which is awaiting me, that has made
me so grave. I really wish you would say something to make
me laugh."
"But perhaps it may be less at my wit, than my folly, that
you will feel inclined to do so," said the good woman, colouring;
" but I will boldly tell you my thoughts for all that. My opinion
is, dear Gertrude, that your papa is scarcely aware of the large
amount of debts that he has already contracted. We are all so
accustomed, you know, to consider his great estates as bringing
him a revenue beyond what he can wish to spend, that I should
not wonder if he had adopted the same idea himself ; and that
he may hardly be aware of the great difference of going on as he
did at Schloss Schwanberg, and as he is doing now, at Paris."
Gertrude listened to this very unexpected statement with all
the attention it deserved, and certainly felt no inclination to laugh
at it ; but nevertheless, she was so nearly in the state of mind
which Madame Odenthal attributed to her father, that her words
produced sui^prise, rather than alarm.
After silently pondering for a minute or two upon what ithe
13—2
180 geethude; or,
had heard, she replied, " I am very glad you have thus spoken to
me, my dear friend, because the mere possibility of such a want
of thought and calculation on the part of my dear, generous
father, is quite enough to make me anxious to know whether
there is any, even a remote, possibility that such may be the case.
It really never occurred to me to think of such a possibility
before ; but now that the thought has been awakened, you may
depend upon it, that it shall not be permitted to go to sleep again
till you and I are both of us quite sure that it may slumber and
sleep in safety ! "
"What Gertrude thus promised, she speedily perfonued ; and it
was by no means very difficult to find an opportunity for doing
so ; for the very next time she saw her father, he was, if possible,
more than usually full of his new-found occupation, and more
than usually earnest in his declaration, that the mansion of
Madame la Comtesse de Hernwold should be one of the most
splendidly furnished in Paris.
Upon this hint she spoke, smilingly asking him if he had ever
calculated what the amount of the entire cost would be, when the
whole of his plans were completed.
He stared at her in return to this question with the most
genuine astonishment, not altogether unmixed with dis-
pleasure.
"Is it possible, Baroness Gertrude," he said, ''that the
approaching change in your situation can have inspired you
already so much with the spirit of a thrifty housewife, as
to render such an inquiry on your part serious ? I flatter myself
that my daughter has never yet had occasion to trouble herself
by calculating the expense of any purchase which it may have
been her pleasure to make ; and I conceive myself fully justified
in assuring her that the nobleman who has been accepted as the
future husband of my heiress, is by no means likely to be so
sordid in his motives as to render any such anxieties needful, or,
in fact, in any way proper, for the future. jS'ever again, Gertrude,
let me hear you express an idea so every way unbecoming your
station ; and, at the same time, so every way unnecessary super-
fluous, and, in fact, ridiculous."
This speech was certainly the nearest approach to real scolding
that had ever been addressed to Gertrude, and for a minute or two
she felt rather at a loss how to receive it. But it required no
longer interval to bring to her heart the conviction, that whether
scolded or not, it was her duty to listen to him with respectful
attention, and not to permit herscK to be too certain that the
FAMILY PETDE. 181
baron might not be right in his estimates, and herself and
Madame Odenthal wrong.
At the present moment, however, all she could do was to
mollify the angry nobleman's offended feelings by the frank con-
fession that she certainly was mnch too ignorant of the subject
they had been discussing, to give any opinion upon it ; and finally
restored his good humour, by impressing a gentle kiss upon his
forehead, and assuring him that she was only afraid of his being
too generous.
CHAPTEE XXYIII.
IfoTWiTHSTAXDiyG the indignation both experienced and
expressed by the baron at listening to this unexpected remon-
strance from his daughter, the said remonstrance did not alto-
gether fall to the ground.
It is, nevertheless, certain that the Baron von Schwanberg said
no more than he felt, when he pronounced that such fears as his
daughter had expressed, were alike unfounded as to fact, and
injurious as to the imputation they cast upon his discretion.
But the baron was a great smoker, and ere he laid aside, that
night, the splendid apparatus by means of which he indulged
this habit, the idea occurred to him, that although Gertrude had
talked not only like a child, but a silly one, it certainly was not
impossible that among the vast variety of things which he had
ordered, there might be some of a higher value, or, at any rate,
of a higher price than he was aware of. He was ready to confess,
too — at least to himself and his meerschaum — that he had never
made himself very familiar with the price of ornamental furniture
in any land, and that it was not unlikely that it might be rather
particularly costly at Paris.
All the sage reflections brought him at length to the conviction,
that it might be as well to order some few of the tradesmen he
had employed to send in their accounts. And as one wise thought
very often begets another, he also determined, just before he
settled himself to sleep that night, that he would also send to the
banker, with whom, on his arrival, he deposited the sheaf of bills
which he had brought with him on arriving at Paris, and which
1S2 geetPwIJDe; oe,
had been since augmented by rents transmitted to him by his
tenants in the country, in order to learn what balance he had in
their hands.
The good-natured reader could only be pained were I to attempt
entering into particulars either respecting tradesmen's accounts,
or the banker's either. Suffice it to say, that the discrepancy
between the amount of what he owed, and what was due to him,
Avas great indeed ! It was so great, in fact, as for a long time to
appear to him absolutely incredible ; and the terrible process of
proving to him that a hundred thousand taken from eighty thou-
sand, left, or rather foimd, a deficit of twenty thousand, was not
performed by the unfortunate Madame Odenthal, without a
degree of dif&culty which amounted to very positive suffering.
Gertrude was not permitted to be present at any of the painful
scenes which j)receded his final conviction, that he actually owed,
after a three months' residence in Paris, twenty thousand francs
more than he had, at the moment, ready money to pay.
It was in vain that Madame Odenthal pointed out to him the
very consolatory fact, that the deficiency was by no meaus large
enough to occasion him any permanent inconvenience ; and that if
he would please to write a letter to Eupcrt, directing him what
tenants to apply to, and furnishing him with the necessary
authority for collecting the sum required, he would be sure to
transmit the money to the Paris banker long before any of the
tradesmen he employed would think of troubling him about the
payment of their accounts.
The baron listened to her with a countenance that became
redder and fiercer with every word she spoke ; so much so, indeed,
that she became frightened, and stopped short, long before she
had said all that it was in her power to say, respecting the perfect
facility with which a gentleman in his position might obtain
what he wanted without the slightest difiiculty of any kind.
"What ! " he exclaimed, in the very loudest tone to which his
very loud voice could be raised; "what! do you suppose I am
going to send about begging petitions to my tenants, imploring
them, for charity, to pay me my rents before they are due ?
"VYoman ! are you mad ? "What have you ever seen in my conduct,
or in my character, which can justify your holding so base an
opinion of me ? /go begging to my tenants? I ? And which
among them do you think would do me the great wrong of
believing that such a message could come from me ? Your son is
a very worthy, respectable youth, my good woman, and the
manner in which I have permitted him to domesticate himself
FAMILY PEIDT3. 183
■witli me, has conferred upon him a cTegi'ee of distinction which
nothing else conhl have done ; and, as you must have observed
both in his case and your own, has induced that distinguished
portion of society to which I belong, to permit his approach to
thpm, as if, in some mysterious manner, he really belonged to their
class. I am as much aware the effect my patronage has produced,
as cither you or he can be; but I am not so bewildered in
intellect as" to suppose that if he were to be the bearer of such a
message to my tenants, as you have named, they would any one
of them believe that such a message ever came from me."
Being here somewhat out of breath, from the extreme
vehemence with which he had spoken, the baron paused; and
poor lladame Odenthal took advantage of the interval to say,
that though quite aware that nothing but his great and most
condescending kindness had enabled her son Eupert to enter into
such society as that to which he had been introduced by his
generous master; yet still she thought that his character for
truth in the neighbourhood where he was best known, would
ensure his being believed, let him deliver to the good people
whatever message he was charged with.
The interval during which she had pronounced these few words,
and which Avas accorded to her by the absolute necessity of
breathing, in which the baron had found himself, had so far
enabled him to subdue the first emotions of the anger she had
excited, as to enable him to reply to her in a tone of comparative
tranquillity.
"And do you really believe, my good woman," he began: ''do
you really believe that there is any man, woman, or child (above
babyhood,) residing upon my estates, who could be persuaded by
your son, let his reputation for truth be what it may, that I could
have been guilty of such conduct as you now propose to me?"
And here the baron positively showed his teeth, as if he were
really laughing. It is said that the merely placing the features
in this position, will often restore the feeling of good humour, as
well as the appearance of it, and it might have been so on the
present occasion, in the case of the baron, for it is certain that the
extremity of his wrath against Madame Odenthal seemed to have
relaxed, and he dismissed her, rather stiifiy it must be confessed,
but without any further appearance of positive anger, saying,
"There! you may go now, my good woman. You have been,
useful to me in going through these long accounts, and I am no
longer displeased with you. Indeed, I feel that it would be a
great folly in me to feel any lasting displeasui'e, merely because
184 geeteude; oe,
MY ideas of what is riglit and honouraWe, differ from those of a
person in so very different a situation. Go, my good ^ladame
Odenthal, but remember that you are not, on any account, to
inform my daughter of the unpleasant discovery which I have
made. If I have got in a scrape, I know perfectly well how to
get out of it ; but I will not permit the tranquillity of the
Baroness Gertrude to be disturbed for a moment. You understaad
me?"
"Certainly," replied the good woman, still looking somewhat
frightened. "The Baroness Gertrude," she added very earnestly,
" shall never become acquainted with what has occurred through
me."
"Very well, then," was the rejoinder, uttered in a much more
condescending tone than was usual with him on any occasion ;
"if you will faithfully keep that promise to me, I will, on my
side, promise you to forget the offence your strange proposal of
my begging assistance from my own tenants, occasioned me."
And so they parted ; the baron, with the appearance of being
suddenly restored to good humour, and Madame Odenthal, with a
very painful burden of sadness at her heart, from the persuasion
that his profound ignorance, both on the subject of buying the
things, and on the subject of paying for them, could scarcely fail
of producing painful consequences for her beloved Gertrude, who
she was only too sure was in no condition to endui'e new soitows
of any kind.
This melancholy insight, however, into her state of mind, was
the result of no confidential disclosures on the part of Gertrude ;
but, in truth, no one, excepting her blind father, could have
known her as she had been, and seen her as she was now, without
perceiving that she was in no condition to endure any new
anxiety well.
But if he had marked her pale check and heavy eye, he would
have thought but little about it, and that little would only have
gone to interpret the change into a sympathetic feeling with what
he had experienced himself. His head was giddy with all the
splendid predictions with which he was perpetually regaling
himself; and if he had thought about it at all, he would
assuredly have accounted for the alteration, by telling himself
that it was veiy natural, and that any girl might feel a little
nervous and overcome, at the idea of being the mistress of such
a house as he was preparing for her.
But, notwithstanding all this, he was sufhciently awake to the
necessity of paying his debts, to prevent his losing any time in
FAMILY TEIDE. 185
commencing the operations by whicli it was his purpose to achieve
this desirable object.
His first step was to write the following concise epistle to his
intended son-in-law : —
'*My deae CorxT,
** Will yon have the kindness to bestow an early visit npon
me to-morrow morning ? I will not beguile you with any hope of
beholding the young lady who is so soon to have the honour of
becoming Countess of Hernwold, for the visit I ask for is for
myself, and not for her.
*'Eelieve me, dear Count,
"Your truly attached, and
" Very devoted friend,
' ' YOX ScnWA2s"EEEG. ' '
This epistle was immediately dispatched by the hands of an
intelligent messenger, with strict orders not to return till he had
himself placed it in the hands of Count Hernwold.
This command was both speedily and accurately executed ; and
the messenger brought back a verbal, but very courteous reply,
that the Count would wait upon him at an early hour on the
following morning.
This was performed to the letter ; for Baron von Schwanberg
had but just quitted the breakfast-table, when his expected visitor
was announced.
The meeting was exactly everything that a meeting shoiild be
between two noble gentlemen about to be so closely united. It
was more than merely cordial — it was really affectionate. As soon
as they were seated, the baron said, with the very slightest shade
of embarrassment imaginable, " I am afraid you will accuse me
of being a very careless father-in-law when I tell you, my dear
Count, that I find I have not cash enough at my bankers to pay
for the furniture I have been purchasing as a present to you and
Gertrude."
Count Hernwold very perceptibly changed colour, bat answered,
with a bow and something like a smile, " There are many persons
in Paris to whom such a discovery might be very disagreeable ;
but it is impossible I can believe, for a moment, that you are one
of them. The Baron von Schwanberg is not likely to find any
great difficulty in bringing his banker's account into good order
again."
*'I wish I could tell you that you were right in thinking so,
186 geetetjde; ob
3
my good friend; but, unfortunately, my case is exactly the
reverse. Instead of my not finding any difficulty in setting this
matter right, I am extremely sorry to say that I know it to be
impossible that I should do so.
"Impossible, Sir, that you should be able to settle your account
satisfactorily with your banker ?" responded the astonished Count,
with a look of unmistakable dismay. " I must suppose that you
are jesting with me."
a -£^,r^j ^Q jjQ^ adopt such an idea as that," replied the baron,
with considerable dignity. " I should be extremely sorry. Count,
that you should suppose me capable of such idle levity as jesting
upon a matter of business. I desired you to call upon me this
morning expressly for the purpose of telling you of the foolish
blunder I have made in buying more furniture for the house than
I have money to pay for, and also to beg of you to help me out
of the scrape. I presume, my dear Sir, that you will have no
objection to my ordering some of the heavier bills to be sent
in to you ? I hate the notion of being in debt to these people,
and, therefore, I sent to you as soon as ever I found out how the
case stood."
Had the astonishment of Count Hernwold been less on hearing
this most unexpected declaration, it is probable that he would
have interrupted the august speaker before he had concluded his
harangue ; but, for a moment, he really looked and felt as if he
had been thunder-struck. He speedily recovered himself, how-
ever, sufficiently at least, to rise from his chair, which he almost
threw across the room in the unbounded vehemence of his indig-
nation, and to say: "I presume, Sir, that you trust to your age
as your protection against my just indignation. I have every
reason to be thankful to your creditors for the impatience of their
demands upon you. Had it not been for this, I might have been
the victim of the plot so infamously laid for entrapping me into
a marriage with your daughter, under the scandalous pretence of
her having a large fortune. Thank heaven, I have escaped ! — and
I shall thank yoii, perhaps, for giving me a lesson, which I am
not likely to forget to the latest hour of my existence."
Having pronounced these words with a vehemence that seemed
for a moment positively to stun the astonished baron, he rushed
out of the room, without deigning to close the door after him,
and screamed the word "coiinox" in such an accent, as he
passed the porte cochere, that the porter came forth from his
lodge, and looked after him with a very strong persuasion that
he had lost his senses.
PAMILr PEIDE. 187
The poor barou, meantime, sat for a few moments immovaLly
fixed in liis chair, and in a state of indescribable bewilderment.
The intellect of the baron was not a very bright, and not a very
rapid intellect ; and he had to shnt his eyes, and meditate very
profonndly for a minnte or two, before it occnrred to him that
the extraordinary scene he had jnst witnessed might . . . nay
must, from the impossibility of finding any other cause, have
been occasioned by his believing that he, the Earon von Schwan-
berg, intended to defrand him of the money he had proj)osed to
borrow of him ! Such a suspicion might certainly have been
offensive to any gentleman ; but upon the Earon von Schwan-
berg, it seemed to fall with a sort of preternatural violence
snfiicient to justify his following the base offender, and trampling
him under his feet.
And, in truth, he rose from his chair, his face the colour of
the crimson hangings that adorned his room, and his limbs
trembling in every joint, but greatly more from I'age than age.
It was, perhaps, fortunate for him that he felt conscious he
could not stand, and he, therefore reseated himself; for, had he
at that moment possessed the power of overtaking the man who
had offended him, such a scene might have ensued as would not
greatly have redounded to the credit of either of the noble gentle-
men.
The fii'st moments which followed his reseatins: himself were
CD
passed in a state of agitation much too violent for his mind, such
as it was — poor old gentleman ! — to decide upon the line of con-
duct which it would be best for him to pursue under the circum-
stances ; and, in fact, the first symptom he gave of having, in
some degree, recovered his startled wits, was his pulling the bell-
rope which was ever and always attached to his own particular
chair.
It was not, however, so much the act of ringing the bell which
proved his recovery from bewilderment, as the use he made of
the assistance it brought him.
" Desire Madame de Odenthal to come to me immediately,"
was the command he gave.
And, accordingly, Madame de Odenthal appeared before him
with as little delay as possible.
'' Sit down, my good friend; I wish to speak to you," were
the words with which he greeted her.
Now, most assuredly, the Baron von Schwanberg had ever
behaved with the most perfect civility to Rupert's mother ; nay,
since, by the agency of Gertrude's lace and velvet, he had made
188 geetetjde; ob,
the remarkable discoTery that her near approach to his own
greatness had in some degree infected her with gi'eatness also, he
had often treated her with some small degree of ceremony and
politeness ; but he had never before called her his *' good friend."
She was immediately conscious that something extraordinary
must have occurred to produce so remarkable an effect, and her
woman's wit immediately suggested the probability that this
something was connected with the unexpected pecuniary difficul-
ties with which she had been made acquainted.
She was too discreet, however, to utter a word of any kind,
and silently obeyed his command, by placing herself in the chair
to which he had pointed.
It would have been a gTcat relief to the baron if she had been
a little less profoundly respectful. If she would only have asked
him what he was pleased to want, it would have been a help to
him.
But after they had both sat profoundly silent for several
seconds, the proud old man was obliged to commence the history
of the insult to which he had been exposed, without the assist-
ance of any preface whatever.
The first sound he uttered was again a groan ; and then he
began as follows :
*' Did I not know, Madame de Odenthal, that it is impossible
you should for a moment believe that I should mistake, misre-
present, or in any way exaggerate, any fact which I take the
trouble of relating, I should doubt your power of receiving, as
credible, the statement I am now about to make to you."
*' Indeed, Sir, you are right in thinking that your word cannot
be doubted by me. "^""hatever you state as a fact, must, I know,
be considered as such by you."
''Considered? Considered so bynie? Do you suppose I do
not know a fact from a falsehood, my good woman ? But this is
only nonsense and idle talking. Listen to me, and you shall
hear what you must believe to be credible, only because I state
it."
3tladame Odenthal meekly bowed her head, and the baron re-
sumed.
"Madame de Odenthal! I have been insulted! grossly in-
sulted ! Heee, in my own dwelling, where no man could mistake
me for another, I have been insulted ! "
And having said these terrific words, he again emitted a groan,
which seemed not only to proceed from his mouth, but from his
whole large person, so deep and so awful was the sound.
F.iiIILT PEIDE. 189
Madame Odenthal looked, and certainly felt, frigVilened ; and
"\Yould probably have both looked, and felt, more frightened still,
had she not been aware of the magnifying medium through which
the Baron Yon Schwanberg looked at everything which concerned
himself.
She clasped her hands, however, threw up her eyes, and
listened to him altogether in a manner which led him to think
that it was very probable the statement he had already made
would have been too much for her, and that she might have
fainted at his feet, had not her profound respect for him, acted
as an antidote, if not positively as a restorative.
From this point, however, the discourse between them went on
with a much nearer approximation to common sense, than was
often to be found in the conversation of the baron, when either
himself, or anything belonging to him, was the theme ; and as
no other themes possessed much interest for him, Madame Oden-
thal had great reason to be satisfied at the eifect which her gentle
commentaries on the actual state of his affairs produced.
As her genuine indignation at Count Hernwold's conduct was
quite as sincere as that of the baron himself, they had the advan-
tage of standing side by side, instead of face to face, during the
discussion which followed ; and the consequence of this favour-
able position was, that before the baron returned her parting salu-
tation, she had succeeded in convincing him that the best, and, in
fact, the only way of punishing the recreant suitor as he deserved,
was by making him clearly understand that the suspicions he
had expressed respecting the state of the baron's finances, were
as false as they were sordid.
So . soothing, in fact, and so delightful, was the picture she
drew of the false noble's discomfiture, upon discovering that the
trifling embarrassment which the baron had mentioned. to him,
arose solely from the extreme liberality which which he was
accustomed to treat his tenants, that she carried with her, on
leaving him, his full permission to write to Eupert, authorising
him to apply to one or two notoriously wealthy individuals among
his tenants, desiring them to accommodate him, by forestalling
their rent-day by a few weeks.
This important point settled, the greatly comforted Madame
Odenthal proposed to take her leave ; but ere she had reached
the door, she was recalled by the voice of the baron, who fixing
his eyes on her as she again approached him, said with a very
piteous expression, and heaving a profound sigh — " But how
shall I break this di'eadful news to my unhappy daughter ? "
190 geetetjde; oe,
The thouQ-htfiil, meditative, quietly- observing Madame Oden-
thal, had never obtruded herself on the confidence of Gertrude,
and no single syllable had ever passed between them whieli
might justify the mother of Rupert in believing that the heart of
the resolutely-silent heiress was too irrevocably his, to permit
her ever being the wife of another, without much great and last-
ing misery. But nevertheless she did believe it.
Had the object of this secret preference been any other but her
own son, the high moral rectitude of lladame Odenthal, as well
as her fond, womanly heart, would have revolted against witness-
ing her union with another; but as it was, she felt that she
could in no possible way interfere to prevent it, without a species
of treachery, and breach of trust, which she could not contem-
plate for a moment, without rejecting it as impossible.
Eespecting the feelings of Gertrude, she had no doubt ;
but the case was very different respecting the feelings of her
son.
There certainly had been moments when neither his habitual
reserve, nor the real wavering of his doubting and capricious
heart, could prevent her suspecting that he had known Gertrude
too long and too well, to see her become the wife of another,
without sufiering ; but, either from the uncertainty in which she
still remained as to his real feelings, or because her woman's
heart taught her to hiow, that let the sentiments of her son be
what they might, the misery which threatened Gertrude out-
weighed a thousand-fold any that threatened him, she felt in-
finitely more pleased by this rupture on her account, than on
his.
At the moment when the voice of the baron called her back,
she was (perhaps unconsciously) hastening her steps, in order to
enjoy the unhoped-for happiness of seeing Gertrude's sweet face
again turned towards her with a genuine smile ; and she herself,
good lady, was for one short moment in great danger of smiling
too, as the words of the dismal-looking baron reached her ear.
Eut she had not been so long domesticated with the Baron
von Schwanberg, without being able to check an ill-timed smile,
and it was with a countenance of very suitable gravity, that she
again approached his chair.
" How will she ever get over it? " resumed the baron, clasping
his hands, and looking the very picture of woe.
Madame Odenthal gently shook her head, and looked very
grave.
" "Why do you not answer me? " cried the impatient and im-
FAMILY PRIDE. 191
peiioiis baron. ^' How is it to be clone ? How is it to be broken
to her ? "
" If I might take the liberty of advising," replied the dame de
compagnie^ in the gentlest of all possible voices, '' I would say
that it might be safer for her to learn this sudden and very start-
ling information from me, than from yonr Lordship."
*' Safer? " repeated the baron, in an accent of great alarm.
" Safer? Do you really think that this frightful news will en-
danger her health ? . . . . Madame Odenthal ! I will challenge
the villain ! My hand, old as it is, can still handle a sword !
My child, my daughter, my heiress, shall not die unavenged."
Madame Odenthal deserved great credit for the manner in
which she listened to this heroic burst of paternal feeling. For
one short moment she very wisely remained silent, to give him
time to recover himself, so that he might comprehend her words ;
and then she said, " j^o, my lord baron, I apprehend no danger
to her life from this disclosure, nor even to her health ; provided
the intelligence be communicated with caution. Women are, of
course, better able to judge than any man can be, how far a pain-
ful fact should be softened, or revealed by degrees. Let me
undertake this painful task. Sir ! Much, and deeply, as I feel
upon this most extraordinary occasion, it is impossible but that
you. Sir, must feel still more. I know that I can trust myself ;
and that should the news I bring affect her nerves, I am well
experienced in the best and safest methods of restoring her."
The poor baron looked very greatly relieved.
^ *' You are right, my good woman ! Quite right ! Perfectly
right !
'' Go then at once, and be sure to make her understand that
her feelings shall be treated with the very greatest consideration
on my part ; and that I shall even be ready to allow her the
interval of several hours to recover herself before we meet."
Madame Odenthal waited for no further orders, but glided out
of the room with very considerable rapidity.
192 GEKTIirDE; OE,
CEAPTEU XXIX.
She fouud Gertrude, as she usually found her now, upon enter-
ing her morning sitting-room, with much goodly preparation
made for sundry sorts of rational occupation.
There was a pretty little embroidering-frame on one side of the
table, and an exquisitely perfect writing-desk on the other. A
little work-box too, which might have served as pattern for that
of a notable fairy queen, found room to display itself to great
advantage, although the said table had also to accommodate a
very miscellaneous and not very sparing collection of books.
There were among them, French reviews and English reviews,
and rather a queer mixture of philosophical essays, and modern
novels in German, French, and English. And in front of all
this, on a sofa, precisely the same length as the table, as if they
were formed to take care of one another, and resolved to let no-
body in between them save their sovereign lady, sat the pale and
heavy-eyed Gertrude, with a countenance indicating as little
either of the activity or the intelligence which could have pro-
fited by all this elaborate preparation, as it is well possible to
imagine.
She received her old friend, however, with a smile, though a
languid one ; and raising herseK from the indolent position which
she had chosen in defiance of all the elaborate preparations for
industry which were before her, she said, "Have you seen my
father yet, dear friend ? Do you think he will come here this
morning, to talk again about that weary house ? Oh ! I am so
tired of it. And then, dear, kind man, he icill ask, you know,
whether I like the things ; and the real truth is, I don't like any
of them ! And besides, I happen to have a headache, this morn-
ing. Dear, dear Madame Odenthal! don't you think I might
take a drive with you in the Bois de Boulogne, instead of talking
about the house ? I do assure you, it will do my head good."
" Yes, my dear, I do not see any reason why you should not
do so. I will, if you please, ring and order the carriage
directly."
"Oh! thank you, dearest! it will be such a relief! I will
get ready, instantly ! "
FAMILY TRIDE. 193
And so saying, Gertrude pushed away her heautiful table, and
stood up,
" Sit down ap,-ain, my dear, for one moment, for I want to
speak to you. AVe shall not lose time, for I have rang the bell,
and it must take a few minutes, you know, before the carriage
can come round."
Gertrude reseated herself, poor girl ! very meekly, saying, with
a sigh, "And you,- too, have something to say to me. You cannot
think how I hate those words ! It is what papa, and Teresa,
and everybody says, when they are going to plague
me about the house, and all the rest of it."
The door was here opened by a servant, and the carriage
ordered,
** Is it to come round directly, Madame ? " inquired the man.
" AYe shall be ready in half-an-hour," replied Madame Oden-
thal.
" ITow then, begin!" said Gertrude, with another languid
smile. " You must not keep the carriage waiting, you know ;
and you must remember the bonnets, and the boots too, for I
think I shall get out, and walk."
''You shall do that, and everything else you like, if you will
but listen to me patiently for a minute or two ; but I cannot
promise that my talk ;.'iall keep quite clear of the house.''^
Gertrude looked at the cheerful face of her friend as she said
this ; and sighed to think how very little of sympathy there ex-
isted between them. She uttered no observation upon it, how-
ever, but prepared to listen, with the patience she had learned
from necessity, to details concerning a future that her soul
abhorred.
There was something in the subdued and patient expression of
Gertrude's pale face, that touched Madame Odenthal to the quick.
To relieve her from the misery she was suffering, became her
first object; and setting aside all dignity and decorum as com-
pletely as if she had never beheld the Baron von Schwanberg in her
life, she seized the listless hands of Gertrude, which lay crossed
upon the table, and pressed them almost passionately, as she ex-
claimed : '' You are not going to have any fine house at all, my
dearest Gertrude ! You are not going to have either the house
or the husband. Your father and Count Hernwold have had a
tremendous quarrel, in which his Countship behaved most scan-
dalously, and there is not the slightest chance that you will ever
set eves on him asfain."
'* Out of the fulness of the heart the mouth speaketh," is, for
14
194 ' CEETErDE; on,
the most part, a saw carrying a very respectable clegrce of triitli
with it ; but on the present occasion it proved unsound. Tears, in
like manner, are pretty generally considered as a proof of sorrow ;
but to this also, as a general law, the conduct of my heroine
gave a very decided contradiction ; for although the information
thus communicated by her dame de compagnie was unquestionably
of a nature to fill her heart with various feelings of one ^ort or
another, she did not utter a single word ; and although all fore-
gone conclusions would lead' to the supposition that the news she
thus received must be very particularly agreeable to her, the
feelings it produced were demonstrated only by a violent flood of
tears. The loving friend, however, whose news had been thus
strangely received, seemed in no way either ofi'ended or greatly
surprised, by the effect they had j)roduced ; neither had she re-
course to the ordinary formula usually resorted to on such oc-
casions, consisting of the oft-repeated phrase, '' Compose your-
self!"
Madame Odenthal did not seem even to wish that she should
compose herself ; but after looking at her and her streaming tears
with very evident gratification to her own feelings, for a minute
or two, she gently walked round both the table and the sofa, and
as all access to the young lady was precluded en face, she placed
her hands upon her shoulders behind, and drawing her head back
against her bosom, impressed once, twice, thrice, a loving kiss
upon her forehead.
Gertrude twisted herself round by a sudden movement, and
laying her head upon the maternal bosom of the friend who bent
over her, uttered the emphatic words, ''Thank God! " and then
closed her eyes, not as if she were about to faint, or to sleep
either ; but as if to indulge for a few delicious moments in some
waking dream, that this strange news had suggested to her.
" It is a great delight to have you thus, and to see you thus
looking the very lean ideal of heart-felt happiness ! " said Madame
Odenthal, gazing fondly in her beautiful face ; " but I must not
indulge myself in looking at you, Gertrude," she added, " for I
only obtained the baron's permission to break this tremendous
news to you, on condition of letting him know without delay how
you bore it."
" Poor, dear papa! " exclaimed Gertrude, with a more playful
smile than had curled her lips for many a month. " Indeed, and
indeed, I am sony that he should have anything to vex him ;
but this, thank Heaven ! comes by no fault of mine ! Go to him,
dearest; and tell him that I cauuot lament the loss of a man so
FAMILY PRIDE, 195
imwortliy in every way of the honour of being allied to him.
Say this, and say it very earnestly. ... And then come back to
me, my own dear friend, and let us see whether wc cannot onco
more enjoy a diive in the Bois do Eoulogne ! "
It was impossible that an embassy could have been more faith-
fully or more ably performed ; and Madame Odenthal returned
with the welcome assurance, that her report of the high-minded
dignity which Gertrude had displayed, had so greatly delighted her
anxious father, that he really seemed very cordially to agree with
her, in thinhiug the rupture of her marriage a subject rather of
joy than of sorrow ; '' and I rather think," she added, " that my
good brother Alaric will receive instructions for returning thanks
in the chapel, for this new mark of the especial intervention oi
Providence in your favour."
Gertrude shook her head, and tried to look demure ; but, in
truth, not only her own heart, but that of her dame cle compagnie
also, felt so wonderfully lightened by this unexpected rescue
from the splendid marriage, which had been contemplated with
almost equal aversion by both, that neither of them should be too
severely censured, if they betrayed a little more gaiety on the
occasion than befitted so solemn an affair.
Most true is the saying, "everything is comparative;" and
what is felt to be happiness at one moment, might be justly held
to be the reverse at another, where the circumstances in which it
came upon us altered. How else can be explained the buoyant
light-heartedness of Gertrude, while conscious that she had fixed
a life-long attachment upon one who never did, and never would
return it ? Or how can we comprehend the measureless content
of her companion, who believed, in her inmost heart (though she
had never breathed her miserable conviction to any one), that
her dear and only son was, and most probably ever would be, the
victim of an attachment which never could, and never ought to
be successful ; and which would, in all probability, as far as his
happiness was concerned, neutralize all the great and unhoped-
for success which his worth and talents had achieved ?
Yet, in despite of all this, Madame Odenthal felt as light-
hearted as, if her age had been about one-fifth of its actual sum,
and she had been setting forth upon an expedition to gather cow-
slips for the formation of cool, sweet-scented balls, wherewith to
storm the eyes and noses of her vengeance-vowing companions.
"Whilst Gertrude, the long-struggling, yet hopeless victim of a
passionate attachment as ill-requited as it it was imprudently
placed, even more than shared the gay hilarity of her companion;
14—2
196 geeteude; oe,
for she not only felt as if she were once more at liberty to enjoy
the bright sunshine, and the balmy air, but she felt also that she
was relieved from a weight of hopeless and endless misery, which
neither earth nor sky could have power to make her forget for a
moment.
Eut in spite of all this giddy enjoyment, the two friends had
wisdom enough left between them, to recollect before the end of
their expedition, that the poor, dear, disappointed baron must be
immediately relieved from his pecuniary scrape ; and on this
point, Madame Odenthal, notwithstanding her usual modesty of
demeanour, presumed so far as to assure Gertrude, that to her
very certain knowledge, there would not be the slightest difficulty
in obtaining from among his wealthy tenants, enough to relieve
him from the difficulty he had got into, half-a-dozen times over.
"And herein," she added, with an involuntary sigh, "my
poor Eupcrt may really be of some use, although removed, by
his duty to his uncle, from his personal attendance upon his
generous patron. My brother, and Rupert also, know much
better than your noble father seems to do, that the tenants of
Schwanbcrg are among the most wealthy individuals of the dis-
trict ; and, if I mistake not, the only objection to applying to any
of them in this manner, arises from the danger of inspiring envy
and jealousy in those not applied to."
"Decidedly, my good friend," said Gertrude, laughing, "you
are a very agreeable companion, especially to a forsaken young
woman, whose papa believes himself on the eve of a very dis-
graceful bankruptcy. AYere I to consult my own feelings only,"
she added, "I think I should like to prolong our tcte-d-tcte in
this delicious Bois de Boulogne till the sun was down, and the
moon up. But let us be virtuous ! Let us remember how very
different our condition is from that of poor dear papa ! "
" Well, then, we will return to the carriage, and drive home ;
and greatly as I have enjoyed our excursion, I approve the doing
so, most sincerely," returned her companion. " But what are
we to do, dear Gertrude," she added, " about the notice which
must be immediately dispatched to the tenants ? I wish Eupert
were here ! He might be secretary in this business to some
purpose."
Gertrude did not immediately answer ; she even tui'ned her
head away for a moment, as if some distant object occupied her
attention, and then her parasol fell to the ground, and she had to
pick it up ; but when this was accomplished, she said with very
irreproachable composure and sedateness, " Notwithstanding the
FAMILY PEIDE. 197
absence of Eupert, I think this business must be transacted by
him. My father has never, since I was born, spoken to me on
the subject of his domestic finances, though he has often alluded
to the large extent of his property, and, therefore, I should not
like, just now, to talk to him on the subject ; but you may, dear
friend, with the certainty of being listened to without any painful
feeling on his part. If I were you, I should tell him that as his
secretary is on the spot, the application for the money had better
be made by him ; and all my father need trouble himself to do,
is to sign his name to the instructions which you must convey to
your son. His signature, without his troubling himself to write
a word more, will be quite sufficient, you know, to give authority
to the document."
Madame Odenthal not only nodded her head in token of ap-
proval, but pronounced the words, *' Yes, that will be the best
wav," with a decision of tone that left no room for fui'ther clis-
cussion. jSTot a word more, therefore, was said on the subject;
they mounted the carriage and drove home in excellent spirits,
discussing the beauties and deformities of the gay streets through
which they drove, with a vivacity which pretty clearly proved
that at that moment, at least, they were neither of them very
unhappy.
CHAPTER XXX.
Madame Odexthal wasted not a moment after her return
before she waited upon the baron, whom she found seated exactly
in the same place in which she had left him, and evidently not
at all the better off for the various newspapers which had been
placed on the table beside him.
She had scarcely entered the door, before he exclaimed in a
plaintive voice, *'How is she, Madame Odenthal? How does
my insulted daughter endure this indignity? "
" Indeed, Sir, she bears it exactly as your daughter should do,"
was her prompt and cheerful reply. "Her drive has done her
much good, she is come back in excellent spirits ; and though
she is now lying down, to restore her strength after the shock of
198 GEETErDE; OPi,
so very sudclcn a surprise, she bids me to say to you, tliat slie
hopes wlicn you meet, you will both feel inclined most cordially
to wish each other joy of the fortunate escape you have had.
''Madame de Odenthal!" returned the baron, with great
solemnity, *' you have expressed yourself with the greatest pro-
priety, in saying that your noble and high-minded young lady
had conducted herself in a manner exactly and most admirably
becoming my daughter. I own that I am proud of her. The
manner in which she seems to have endured this almost incredible
outrage, is the result, as I feel deeply convinced, of a further
special interposition of Providence in her behalf. Eut although
I am fully aware of this, my good friend, and (crossing himself^
duly grateful for this renewed demonstration of the remarkable
interposition of Heaven in her favour, yet still my heart is hca-s-y
when I think of the difficulties which lie before me ! In what
way am I to address myself to the unsuspecting individuals from
whom I am to ask the FAvom of a loan ? I protest to you, that
I almost doubt whether I shall have sufficient command of my
feelings to write the necessary document."
'' And why should you write it. Sir ? " said Madame Odenthal,
earnestly, but with an air of the very deepest respect. " My
son," she continued, " has still the honour of being your secretary,
although the illness of his uncle has made it his duty to absent
himself for a time. If you will permit me to write, from your
dictation, the amount of money which you require for your ac-
commodation at this moment, Rupert, on receiving this document,
will immediately apply in person to the individuals you may be
pleased to name ; and, if this be done by this day's post, I will
venture to promise you, Sir, that an order to the amount will be
transmitted to your Paris banker before the week is out."
The baron's eyes opened themselves to the very widest extent
of their capacity, and he stared at the good widow in a manner
that very nearly overset her gravity — nearly, but, very fortu-
nately, not quite ; for had she smiled at such a moment, the con-
sequences might have been very serious indeed.
Having finished his astonished survey of her quiet face, he said,
not without a little satirical bitterness, " May I take the liberty
of asking you, Madame Odenthal, by what means you have made
yourself so strangely familiar with the affairs of my tenants, as
to enable you to say that such and such among them will, to a
certainty, be able and willing to make this partial payment of
their rents before they are due? "
*' Indeed, Sir, I must be bold enough to say that I think I am
FAMILY VUTDt, 199
aljlc to answer your question without any risk of leading you
into error. I have lived for many years among the worthy people
who have the happiness of being your tenants, and so has my
son, Eupert, also ; and we both know, from our long familiarity
-with them, and with their prosperous agricultural concerns, both
what they would wish to do under such circumstances, and what
they are capable of doing, without the slightest inconvenience to
themselves."
The baron listened to her with a heavy countenance — poor
man ! — which at first expressed nothing but anxiety ; but, ere
she had finished her speech, some bright idea seemed to have
suggested itself, and he replied, in a tone infinitely less gloomy
than before, " T\''hat you say, Madame de Odenthal, certainly
appears to have great probability in it. You 7mist be likely to
know more about these worthy people than I can do. And,
moreover, Madame de Odenthal, a thought came into my head
while you were speaking, which makes me feel a good deal less
uneasy about it than I did before. It is quite certain, you know,
that neither the Baroness Gertrude nor myself can desire to
remain any longer in this extremely dirty and disagreeable city,
than may be absolutely necessary for the settling these trouble-
some bills ; and if, as soon as we return to Schloss Schwanberg,
I were to invite the tenants that your son, Paipert, may have
applied to, as guests to dine at my own table, it strikes me that
they may think themselves not badly requited for the service."
The countenance of the worthy nobleman had become very
radiantly red as he pronounced these words, partly, probably,
from a really generous feeling of pleasure at having hit upon so
satisfactory a mode of requiting the obligation to which he was
obliged to submit, and partly from some little latent doubt
whether such a remuneration might not exceed the bounds of
propriety.
Ent the very cordial smile with which Madame Odenthal
listened to this proposal, soothed and comforted him considerably
more than he would have chosen to confess, even to himself; and,
after the pause of a moment, he positively returned her smile,
and said, *'I am not quite sure, Madame de Odenthal, whether,
under such very particular cu'cumstances, I might not, with
great propriety, shake hands with my guests."
**And if you do, my lord baron," she eagerly replied, " I will
venture to say, they will consider the whole transaction as one of
the most gratifj'ing events that ever occured to them."
And here again the baron rewarded her with a very gracious
^00 fiEimirDU; ok,
Fmile, and said, in an accent as nearly approacliing tlie jocose as
it was possible for him to assume, "I shall begin to think,
Madame de Odenthnl, that you have been learning somewhat
from my daughter, at the same time that she has been, doubtless,
h-arning much from you ; for you have expressed, during the
present conversation, sentiments and opinions very much in
accordance with those which she has, naturally, inherited from
her ancestors. And now then, my good friend," he added, with
more condescension of manner and aspect than he had ever
manifested to her before, ''you had better return to your young
lady. Give her to understand that I no longer feel any embar-
rassment about the debts I alluded to, and that I flatter myself
we shall very speedily set off on our return to Schloss Schwan-
berg. I have little doubt, Madame de Odenthal, that she will
agree with mc in thinking that, when the 'Almanack de Gotha '
records the name of a noble as honourable in character as in rank,
the fittest residence for him must ever be on his own long-
descended property. The busy cities of the earth, Madame
de Odenthal, are only suited, as homes, for the dissolute and
necessitous."
Madame Odenthal listened most attentively to his words, then
curtsied, and prepared to depart ; but, before she reached the
door, he recalled her, by saying, "Do not, in your statement of
what has passed between us, to my daughter, mention my
suggestion respecting the propriety of my shaking hands with
such tenants as may have advanced my next rents for me. She
is a person likely to be very greatly shocked at the idea of any
unbecoming degree of familiarity between persons of different
stations in life, and I should not wish her to know that I had
entertained any such idea, till we have had an opportunity of
talking the matter over together in private."
Madame Odenthal repeated her reverence, and respectfully
pledged her word that his having given utterance to this generous
and most condescending idea should for ever remain in secret, till
such time as it was his pleasure to refer to it himself.
The long interview having at length reached this satisfactory
conclusion, Madame Odenthal, at length, made her escape, and
retui'ned to Gertrude, not without some slight expectation oi
being scolded for the length of her absence ; but Gertrude was
evidently in no humour to scold anybody. She playfully received
her dame de compagnie with outstretched arms, and, in answer to
her apology, said, with gi-eat na'ivetc, "Have you been very long,
my dear, kind friend ? I have taken a cup of chocolate, my dear
i-AillLY PEIDE. 201
^Madame Oclentlial, and there stands a cup ready for you. Eut I
am not quite certain that I would advise you to take it. I
suspect that it is drugged.''
"Drugged, my dear child!" exclaimed her friend. '''What
can you mean ?" '
"Do not look so frightened, dearest! I do not ahsolutely
mean that it is poisoned. I do not even suspect my ci-devant
lover, Monsieur le Comte de Hernwold, of having anything
whatever to do with the heverage ; but I cannot help having
some slight suspicion that I am intoxicated. How do people feel
when they are tipsy, Madame Odcnthal ? They feel inclined to
laugh, and dance, and sing, don't they ? . . . "Well ! do you
know, that is exactly what I feel now."
Madame Odcnthal behaved admirably. It can scarcely be
doubted, that a woman possessed in no common degree both
of deep feeling and acute intelligence, must, in the course of the
weeks, months, and years, which she had lived in the closest
intercourse with Gertrude, have discovered, or, at least, suspected,
her secret ; but neither on the present occasion, nor on any other,
had she ever permitted the slightest symptom of this suspicion to
appear. And now, when the bright laughing eyes of Gertrude
evidently sought hers, as if to read there more of unreserved
sympathy than she had yet expressed, her searching glance was
only met by the cordial smile of affectionate pleasure at seeing
her look so well and so happy.
When the certain and perfectly uncontrolled independence
which must devolve on Gertrude, ere very long, (for the baron
was an aged father for so young a daughter), and the splendid
property which this independence would place at her disposal ;
when all this is considered, the conduct of Madame Odcnthal
may well be called admirable. Por if she entertained any
suspicion of the truth at all, and that she should not was, in
fact, impossible, she must have been aware that one leading word
from her would have sufhced to make poor Gertrude pour out
every secret of her heart before her. Eut by uttering this Avord,
Madame Odcnthal would have betrayed her trust — and it was
not uttered.
Madame Odcnthal was, in truth, an excellent and high-prin-
cipled woman ; but, nevertheless, it is certainly possible that she
would have found her task a more difficult one, had the judgment
which she had formed respecting the feelings of her son, been as
correct as that at which she had arrived respecting the young
baroness.
202 GEEiETn)E; ob,
But she did not believe that ITiipert loved Gertrude.
Whether it were that he had more power over himself, and
was thereby enabled more effectually to conceal his feelings, or
that the wish to do so was in him more earnest, it is certain that,
in point of fact, his mother had been kept as completely in doubt,
or rather, in ignorance, of his real feelings, as Gertrude herself ;
and this want of discernment was so far fortunate, that it made
the strict performance of her duty not onlj" more easy, but, in all
XDrobability, more effectual also ; for if ^ladame Odenthal had
known all that was struggling at his heart, and all that he was
suffering from seK-delusion respecting the real feelings of Ger-
trude, it would, indeed, have been a difficult task for his mother
to have refrained from uttering one single word which might
have tunied all his sorrow into joy.
Eut in truth, poor Eupert had perfectly succeeded in persuading
everybody, except himself, that, as far as love was concerned, he
was still completely ''fancy free."
It is certain, that in some of her "night thoughts," the
watchful dame de compagniG wondered that it could be so ; but
such thoughts did not influence her conduct, or demeanour, in
any respect ; and when poor Gertrude sometimes paused in the
midst of one of her playful sallies, and said, with her speaking
eyes still fixed on the face of her friend, ' ' Can you not fancy,
Madame Odenthal, how very dreadful it must be, to be married
to a man one hates? " The only answer she received was a quiet
acquiescence, accompanied by the expression of affectionate hope,
that such would never be the fate of her dear Gertrude.
But this delightful conversation — for delightful it was — not-
withstanding the reserve of ITadame Odenthal, was not permitted
to last very long, before that truly excellent person hinted that
she ought not any longer to delay seeing her father.
"Believe me, my dear child, he has suffered very severely,"
she said; "and although I have the pleasure of knowing that I
left him less unhappy than I found him, he is, I doubt not, still
in a state of mind to make a cheerful visit from you very
desirable."
" Then he shall have it, my dear friend! " rej^lied Gertrude,
springing gaily from the seat which she had lately occupied with
such supine languor. "I suppose he is seated in state, as usual
at this hour, in the little drawing-room, with as many newspapers
of all nations around him as would keep him hard at work for a
month, dear man ! were he to condescend to read them."
And then, without waiting for an answer, she bounded, rather
fAlIILT raiDE. 203
than walked, out of the room, singing the very gayest song she
could remember from the last comic opera.
''Poor dear! poor dear! " murmured Madame Odenthal; "and
what is to happen to her next ? "
But this murmur did not reach the ear of the heiress, and
therefore the only sedative she had to bring her to a proper
degree of gravity and discretion, was her own good filial heart,
which caused her with all sincerity to breathe a sigh, because her
poor, dear father could not share the delicious feeling of light-
heartedness which made it so difficult for her to walk, instead of
dance, as she approached him.
There, in truth, he sat, poor stricken, proud, old man, strug-
gling to do battle to the feeling which oppressed him ; but having
neither sufficient energy of intellect, or of animal spirits to
attempt it. •
On hearing the door open, he felt quite sure that it must be
Gertrude who was come to visit him ; and being very deeply
impressed with the persuasion that her pride of place was at least
equal to his own, he scarcely dared to turn his eyes towards her,
lest he should see her bright beauty blighted by the grievous
insult he had received !
Eut before he could fix his eyes on her, she had sprung to him,
and dropping on her knees, she threw her arms round him, and
exclaimed, "Join with me, my dearest father, in thankfulness for
the chance which has happened to us ! I do not mean," she
added, with great animation, "I do not merely mean my having
escaped an union with so contemptible a being, though you will
easily believe, my dearest father, that it is not likely your
daughter should be insensible to that ; but what my thoughts
chiefly dwell upon at . the present moment is, the opportunity
afforded you of humbling his unworthy spirit to the dust! "
" "W^hat is it that you mean, my poor, dear Gertrude?"
returned her father, in a very piteous voice. " That he has hum-
bled me, and, alas ! my dearest child, that he has humbled you
also, is but too certain; but what you mean by my humbling
him, I cannot even guess."
"Eut you will do more than guess, you will see the whole
truth at once, when I point out to you the efi'ect of the step you
have so wisely decided upon, as to your manner of paying these
paltry debts. Trust me, dearest father, it would have been less
injurious to your dignity if you had sold the last diamond from
the rich casket of your family, than if you had permitted this
man to assist you for a single hour by "a loan."
204 gerteude; on,
''My dearest Gertrude! " returned tlie old man, gitmng at her
■with the most profound admiration ; " ifiost truly may I say that
no son could better deserve to inherit my honours, and my wealth,
than you do ; for I must confess, though I should be sorry to
awaken a feeling of vanity in your yoimg heart by saying so, that
you inherit also the power, of which I am certainly conscious in
myself, of expressing well the noble feelings of onr race. But,
alas ! my child, though these feelings belong to us by the right of
birth, and are, and must for ever be, our own inheritance, this is
no moment in which to boast of them ; for must they not for a
short, but most miserable interval, be laid aside, while I become
the creditor of some of my own tenants?"
'' Laid aside, my dearest father ? Laid aside at the very"
moment when there is such especial reason for blessing Heaven
that they are awake within us? Believe me, father, it is the
noble feeling of which you speak, that, after a moment's reflec-
tion, will teach you to rejoice, not only at having escaped the
danger which threatened us, of forming an alliance with one so
every way unworthy to approach you ; but also for the gratifying
manner in which you are enabled to thrust him and his ^^.ilgar
insolence from you."
*' Gratifying ? Oh, Gertrude ! " murmured the still crest-fallen
baron, with a groan.
''Yes, papa! Gratifying in the very highest degree. I have
listened in a manner that could not, perhaps, be considered as
dignifying in you, to my excellent companion and friend, Madame
de Odenthal, while she described the pride and joy which she
knew would be felt by those whom her son should select as the
honoured individuals from whom this trifling and temporary
accommodation would be accepted. It is delightful, papa, to
know that the same act which will aflbrd accommodation to
you, will be productive of such heartfelt pride and pleasure to
them."
"It is delightful, my dear child! " replied the baron, seizing,
as was his wont, upon every suggestion calculated to gratify his
master-2:)assion. " I really believe that you, and your very intel-
ligent dame dc compagnie, take a more correct view of the subject
than I permitted myself to do in the first instance. But even so,
my dear Gertrude," he continued, "I do not well perceive how
my being made aware of these excellent feelings on the part of
my tenants, can humble this insolent Count llernwold."
''Do you not, dear papa?" replied Gertrude, laughing. "I
think I do. There can be no doubt that when he left you in the
FAMILY PEIDE. 205
insolent manner yon have described, he felt persnaded that some
difficulties would arise in the final settlement of these furnishing
accounts ; because, as you will remember, everything was in the
first instance ordered by him, and for everything he ordered him-
self, he is, of course, answerable. Depend upon it, therefore,
that he will not rest till he has announced to the tradesmen you
have both employed, the difficulty which might attend your
immediately paying their bills, in the amiable hope and expecta-
tion that they will immediately become troublesome to you."
The baron, who was listening to every word she uttered, as if
an oracle was proclaiming his destiny, here uttered a piteous
groan. To which his daughter replied, by taking his hand, kiss-
ing it, and looking into his face with a smile.
" Wait a moment, papa ! " she resumed ; ''I have not come to
the conclusion of my prophecy yet. AYhile our noble Count is
meditating on the best means of tormenting us, you will be
engaged in writing an epistle to him."
"I, Gertrude?" exclaimed her father, colouring violently.
" I write a letter to the man who told me that I wanted to entrap
him into a marriage with my daughter ? Child ! child ! you know
not what you say ! jS'otwithstanding my age, and that my hand
is no longer as steady as it was wont to be, I may be tempted
yet, to send him a challenge to mortal combat ; but in no other
way will I communicate with him."
"^or will I ask you to do so, dear papa," returned Gertrude,
gently ; " unless you should think it worth while to humble him
in the manner I propose. What I wish is, that you should write
to him as if his rude manner of leaving you had made little or
no impression upon your memory, and tell him that you write
merely to inform him that he need not feel any uneasiness
respecting the unpaid bills, for that you should settle them all
immediately, having discovered that you had ready money at
your command greatly beyond the amount required, and that your
mistake had arisen from the accidental absence of your secretary,
who is in attendance upon a sick relation in the country."
Gertrude here ceased speaking ; but her eyes were still fixed
upon the baron's face, and she had the extreme satisfaction of
perceiving that the contraction of his brow relaxed as she pro-
ceeded, and then that he smiled at her with a look of inexpres-
sible satisfaction. Eut this happy state of things only lasted for
a moment. His countenance was again over-clouded by heavy
gloom, as he said, ''Such a letter, Gertrude, would be excellent,
most excellent, and I should certainly write it with more plea-
206 geetetjde; ob,
sure than I ever wrote anything in my life ; but how can I Le
quite certain, Gertrude, that Madame Odenthal is right about the
tenants ? Just think, my dearest child, what my feelings would
be, if, after writing such a letter to Count Hernwold, I should
get a letter from Eupcrt, telling me that the persons to whom
he had applied, were either unable, or unwilling to assist
me."
"Depend upon it, papa," replied Gertrude, looking very gaily
at him ; "depend upon it, our Madame de Odenthal would not
speak with so much confidence on the subject, if she had not very-
good reason for doing so. But I will not deny, papa, that the
very same idea occurred to me, and I told her frankly, that if
this should happen, your position would be greatly more painful
than it is now ; for that you would have committed yourself, by
stating to the Count what was not true."
The poor baron again became as red as fire, and exclaimed, in
no very gentle accents, "Nothing on earth, Gertrude, shall induce
me to run such a risk."
" I quite agree with you, dearest papa," she replied, "and so
did Madame Odenthal also ; but having acknowledged that the
doing this would be worse than all the debts in the world, she
quietly left the room, but returned to it a moment afterwards,
with the casket containing my dear mother's magnificent pearls,
which, with their superb settings, are, we all know, worth very
considerably more than the thirty thousand francs. ' Here, Ger-
trude,' she said, 'is a guarantee which will eff'ectually protect
your father from the possibility of any such disaster ; nor is this
all,' she added, 'as my lord the baron well knows ; for I have
heard him say, that the family diamonds are of much higher
value still, to say nothing of the massive plate, which would fur-
nish the sum required half-a-dozen times over.' "
The baron breathed again. "Yes; I see, I see, my dear!
That Madame de Odenthal is decidedly a very clear-headed
woman," he replied, after meditating for a minute or two. "I
understand her argument perfectly, Gertrude. It is not that she
has any thought of proposing to me that I should sell my family
jewels or plate. She is a bold woman, but not quite bold enough
to propose that. I suspect," (and these words were accompanied
by a very pleasant smile,) " her meaning is to show, by remind-
ing me, very properly, of my various resources of family wealth,
that I may write to this audacious Count, in such a manner as to
make him most miserably conscious of the insolent blunder ho
has made, without my runniiig any risk of pledging my noble
FAMILY TELDE. 207
word to a statement wliich iniglit by any possibility be untrue,
or in the very slightest degree inexact."
*' You have stated the case exactly, my dearest father! " re-
turned Gertrude, looking greatly relieved ; for she had, not with-
out reason, began to fear some Quixotic blunder on the part of
her father. But now he had every appearance of being quite as
well pleased as herself, and she therefore ventured to add, "iN'ow
then, dear papa, you will write the letter we were talking about,
to this blundering lover of mine. Oh ! what an escape you and
I have both had, my dearest father."
*' "We have indeed, my Gertrude ! " replied the old man, look-
ing at her very fondly; " and if I should indeed manage to get
through these troublesome embarrassments, and find myself once
more with you and the good Odenthals, at Schloss Schwanberg,
I really think I shall feel happier than I ever did before in my
life."
There was something in these words which seemed to have a
very decidedly pleasurable eifcct upon Gertrude, for they caused
her to clasp her beautiful little hands, as if she had achieved a
victory, and inspired her with courage to say, " oS'ow then, papa,
let me write the letter to Count Hernwold, just as if I were your
secretarv, as Eupert used to be, and you shall sign yoiu^ name to
it. Wlyou?"
It was evident that the baron was at that moment too happy
to be dignified, for he positively laughed, as he replied: "Yes,
my dear, I will let you do that, or anything else you please, pro-
vided, you know, that you consult your dame de compagnie^ as all
young ladies ought to do. I dare say that, between you both,
the letter will be everything that the Baron von Schwanberg could
wish it to be."
Gertrude waited for no further compliments, but springing
from her chair, she gaily kissed her hand to him, and vanished.
CHAPTEH XXXI.
Ladies have, doubtless, written letters to lovers under a vast
variety of circumstances, but, for the most part, they may be
easily classed under one of three heads — the hard, the soft,
208 GEETHrDE; oe,
and the indifferent. But the letter wliich Gertrude had obtained
permission to compose for her lover, did not exactly belong to
either, ; moreover, it "^as to be written in the name of her father,
and not in her own ; but, nevertheless, she left the baron's pre-
sence with such a degree of excitement and animation visible on
her countenance, as clearly demonstrated that her heart was
deeply interested in the epistle she was about to indite.
Luckily for her feelings, she found that her dame de compagnie
was not in their morning sitting-room, and she, therefore, sat
down with the pleasant consciousness that she might indulge in
the delightful emotion that was palpitating at her heart, without
any restraint being put upon it by her fjoveniess.
Poor Gertrude ! If there was a little merry mischief in that
heart, as she sat down to perform the task she had undertaken,
and which had been so solemnly entrusted to her, it must be re-
membered that she was still very young, and that it was very
long since any merry thought of any kind had crossed her fancy.
It may also be fairly stated in her defence, that she had always
believed the addresses of Count Hernwold to be interested. This
belief had certainly never been a source of pain to her ; but, in
fact, from the terrible hour in which she had determined to atone
for all her past offences, by yielding herself implicitly to the
wishes of her father, it had been only too decidedly the reverse.
Yet, even on this point, excuses might be found for her.
'' Surely," thought she, "our union will be less hateful, if it
be formed on both sides upon motives which have no mixture oi
love in them, than if one were actuated by such a feeling, and
the other not."
And in so thinking, she was surely right, although she was as
surely -VNTong in believing such a union could be justifiable at all.
As it was, however, neither her tender conscience, nor her
tender heart, troubled her with any reproaches; and it was,
therefore, with a strange mixture of satisfaction and amusement,
that she penned the following epistle : —
" The Baron von Schwanberg presents his compliments to the
Count Hernwold, and begs him, in all courtesy, and without any
mixture of jesting, to explain to him the real cause of the abrupt
departure by which he concluded his late visit.
" The Baron von Schwanberg is aware that younger men than
himself often find, and often make, amusement, from a playful
pretence of being serious, when, in truth, they are only jesting;
and, on the other hand, the Baron von Schwanberg flatters him-
FAJIILY TETDE. 209
self tliat Count ircrnwold must, in like manner, be aware that
persons of a more advanced age than himself, are more slow in
perceiving a jest than in resenting an offence, which may be
grave. On the present occasion, however, the Baron von Schwan-
bcrg is in no way disposed to resent, as gravely as it miglit be re-
sented, the indiscreet burst of hilarity with which the Count
Hernwold received the confidential communication which had
been made to him relative to the state of the baron's banking
account. Xevertheloss, the baron must be excused for saying,
that this feeling of forbearance, on his own part, does not go far
enough to enable him to overlook the offensive freedom, and for-
getfulness of proper deference, displayed in the mode of Count
Hernwold's departure from his presence. Earon von Schwanberg,
therefore, takes this opportunity of announcing to Count Hern-
wold that the projected alliance between their houses can no
longer be thought of. This is decidedly a very grave termi-
nation to an ill-timed jest, but it is inevitable. As a proof, how-
ever, that the Baron von Schwanbei'g retains no harsher feeling
towards Count Hernwold than the respect which he owes to him-
self renders absolutely necessary, he takes this opportunity of
informing him that the hurried statement which he had made
respecting his temporary deficiency of ready money, arose from a
mistake, which, being now rectified, leaves his affairs in the
same unembarrassed condition as they have ever been."
This epistle was so rapidly written, that, upon Gertrude's re-
turning to her father with the open sheet of paper in her hand,
he greeted her with a deep sigh, and said, very despondingly,
"Ah! my poor dear Gertrude! you have found the task too
difficult for you and the good Odcnthal together ! I am not at
all surprised, my dear. It is no easy matter to write such a
letter as we ought to send. IS'othing was ever so unfortunate as
Ptupert's absence ! He is so used to pen-Avork, that everything
of the kind seems easy to him ; but, to persons in our condition
of life, it is quite a different thing."
"Whilst he was thus speaking, Gertrude had approached his
chair, holding her letter in one hand, while the other was laid
affectionately on his shoulder. But the disappointed baron was
much less inclined than usual to return her caress. He first
sliook his head, in a helpless way, from side to side, and then
turned it fairly away from her, saying as he did so, " It certainly
was rather foolish, my dear, to fancy you could do it, when I
myself confessed that I saw considerable difhculty in it. You
15
210 GERTRUDE; OR,
had Letter send Madame Odcntlial to me. Perhaps, after all, the
best thing we can do is to make Rupert come back again im-
mediately. He would find no difficulty at all."
"Don't do that, papa, till you have just looked at what I
have written," said Gertrude, placing her production in his
hands, and conscious, perhaps, that her father's proposal had
brought a deeper glow to her cheeks than she would like to hear
any commentaries upon.
"Have you, then, really written something already, my dear
child?" cried the delighted old gentleman, adjusting his spec-
tacles.
"Let me read it to yon — shall I, papa?" said Gertrude,
rather eagerly ; for, in truth, she was rather proud of her com-
position, and fancied, perhaps, that her manner of reading it
might be more advantageous than his.
" To be sure you shall, dearest! " he replied. "I know you
can read well, Gertrude ; and, I daresay, I shall find that you
can write well also," he added, with recovered spirits. " JS^ow,
then, my dear, begin ! "
" Yes, papa. I will only keep you waiting one moment, just
to remind you that, angry as you justly are v/ith him, this letter
must not express it, because, you know, the real reason of our
writing it is, that he may learn by it, what a blunder his imper-
tinent suspicions led him into ; and we could not do this, if we
did not express the intelligence we wish to convey, in a civil
form. I think he will be vexed, papa, at losing the fortune,
though he may not care much about the lady."
" If I thought THAT, my darling Gertrude," replied the father,
in very vehement anger, "I do not think that it would be proper
to write anything to him, except a challege! "
* ' I think this letter will vex him more than a challenge would
have done," replied Gertrude, laughing.
s " Read it, then ! Read it, Gertrude ! " cried the old man,
rubbing his hands with every appearance of satisfaction.
iVnd she did read it ; and, moreover, she certainly did her own
composition justice, for she contrived to make even our baron
comprehend that there was a mixture of wormwood in it. Rut
if the ceremonious wording of the epistle made him wince a
little, from the doubt it engendered in his mind as to the possi-
bility of its being too civil, the concluding sentence set it all
right. She had never seen him so pleasurably excited before. He
threw his arms round her, kissed her hands, patted her hair, and
at last exclaimed, as a sort of summing up of every delightful
I
FAMILY TEIDE.
211
feeling in one, '' Gertrude ! if you had been a son ten times over,
instead of a daughter, you could not have done anything which
would more clearly have marked the race from which you are
descended. If my own hand had written every line, it could
not more clearly have borne the mark of Schwaxbeeg upon it,
than it does now ! Eut it is not every name in the Almanack de
Goth a, my belaved Gertrude, the representative of which, whether
male or female, could produce such a letter as this 1 "
And then, after silently meditating on the subject for a minute
or two, he added, ''It strikes me, Gertrude, that the very re-
markable perfection of your character and abilities, must arise
from the fact that both your parents .... observe what I say,
my dear girl, I think it is because both your parents, female as
well as male, are to be found, and repeatedly found, as you know,
in that extraordinary and most precious volume (the like to
which cannot, as I have been assured, be found in any other
country of the known world) ; I think, I say, that this must be
the reason why you are so very decidedly superior to every one
else, whether male or female."
Poor Gertrude had been accustomed for so many years to the
being assured by her father that she was superior to every one
else in the world, that though very weary of hearing it, she had
become in some degree indiiferent to the sound ; but at this
moment she could not resist the temptation of saying, "At any
rate, dear papa, the Count Hernwold cannot agree with you in
opinion, on this point."
Eut she would not have uttered the idle jest, had she been at
all aware of the effect it was likely to produce. It was upon
her saying this, that he now for the first time seemed to be
aware of the personal affront to her ; and so vehement was the
irritation produced by it, that she bitterly lamented her im-
prudence.
It was during one of the very violent bursts of indignation
which recurred from time to time upon this theme during the
course of the day, that a servant entered the saloon in which the
baron, his daughter, and Madame Odcnthal were sitting after
dinner, and delivered a letter to his master.
The poor baron was, in truth, so completely worn out and ex-
hausted, by the unusually vehement emotions which he had
experienced and displayed during this suffering day, that he
littered another of his dismal groans, as the the silver waiter was
most respectfully presented to him, with what looked an im-
mensely voluminous letter deposited upon it.
15—2
212 geeteude; ob,
The tired old man looked, and felt, as if he wore afraid to
touch it ; and so very intelligible was the mute eloquence of his
weary glance, that his daughter, who seemed to have gained by
the events of the day all the energy which he had lost, sprung to
his rescue, and taking the voluminous-looking dispatch from the
footman, drew a chair close to him, and with a look which might
have inspired hope and joy in any being capable of receiving
either, she said, "May I break the seal of this magnificent-look-
ing dispatch, i^apa? Let me open it, and read it to you,
shall I?"
It is by no means quite impossible, that the Baroness Gertrude
(though not quite such a phenomenon as her papa believed her
to be) might have conceived some slight suspicion as to the con-
tents of the dispatch she held in her hand, for she really was an
intelligent and quick-witted young lady. Moreover, she had
recognised the seal of her quondam lover, though her father had
not, and she certainly anticipated considerable amusement from
a perusal of the contents.
The reply of her father was, as she anticipated, a ready acqui-
escence ; on receiving which she broke the splendid seal, detached
the ample cover, and read as follows : —
*'My Deae LoEn Eaeox,
" I have to acknowledge a weakness both of character
and conduct, of which I honestly and honourably assure you, I
am most heartily ashamed. Permit me to recapitulate to you,
.the very foolish circumstance which led to the folly, the worse
than follv, which I committed in our last hurried interview. At
the last ball, at which I enjoyed the exquisite happmess of meet-
ing that loveliest of all created beings, your unequalled daughter,
I tortured myself during the course of the evening by fancying
that she looked coldly on me, nay, that she spoke more coldly
still. My brain was on fire ! I dared not trust my feelings, but
retired at an early hour to my sleepless pillow. The mental
agonies which I endured during that terrific night can never be
forgotten while I live ! It was within a few short hours of this
dreadful paroxysm of jealousy and despair, that I received from
you information, which would at once have appeared incredible
from every other human being, namely, that your pecuniary
affairs were in disorder. Kay, my dear and honoured friend,
you must excuse me for saying, that not even from you would
such a statement have appeared serious, had not my tortured
mind been so frightfully harassed by the ideas which had
FAMILY rRIDE. 213
haimted me throiigli the preceding night, as to be incapable of
forming a rational judgment on any subject.
"But, as it Avas, I listened like a madman, believed like a
madman, and acted like a madman ! And what remains for me
now, but to throw myself at your feet, and at the feet of your
angelic daughter, and implore you both to forgive, or rather, to
forget the conduct which was dictated by insanity, and to re-
ceive again the homage and the adoration of one, who would
shed his heart's blood to prove his devotion to the noble
"Baron von Schwanbcrg, and his adored and too lovely
dan filter.
"I remain, my ever honoured friend, in the ardent hope of
being permitted, at no distant day, to substitute the more precious
name of son, ever and for ever,
*' Your devoted Servant,
" JoAcniM Fecklenboeg Alexaistdee
" COMPTE D'HeEIHVOLD."
Gertrude read this letter, from the address to ''My dear Lord
Baron," to the signature of the devoted " Count Ilernwold,"
with a well sustained dignity of voice and tone which might
have done honour to the town-crier ; and when she had finished
the perusal, she re-enveloped it in its ample cover, closed it care-
fully, so as to make it look almost as splendid as it did before she
opened it, and then, rising, presented it to her father with a very
low and ceremonious curtsey. If she hoped to obtain a smile
from him by this, she was disappointed, for as he held out his
hand to receive the letter she presented, he looked considerably
more puzzled than amused.
*' AYhat does it mean, Gertrude ? " said the poor baron, looking
at her very much as if she had been an oracle.
"This Count Hernwold," he continued, "is a man of very
high rank, and certainly very nobly connected ; and I would on
no account, either to him, or to any other nobleman, give way
to any feeling of unjust auger; but surely, my judgment cannot
have deceived me, can it, Gertrude ? Surely this letter of his
to-day, is not at all consistent with his conduct to me, when I
mentioned the embarrassment I was under about the tradesmen,
3'ou know, and the mistake I made about the banker. I can't
understand it, Gertrude. I don't know what he means. Do
you think he is in earnest, my dear ? "
^' Yes, papa," replied Gertrude, "I have no doubt that he is
quite in earnest."
2i4 GErtTnuBE; oe,
'* Then I suppose you wisli liim to come here directly. . . .
Do you, Gertrude ? "
" My dearest, dearest papa ! " exclaimed Gertrude, fondly cm-
bracing him; '' can you suppose for a moment that I can wish
ever again to see a man who has insulted you ? — First, by daring
to treat you with indignity, when you stated to him your mis-
taken belief that your affairs were embaiTassed ; and then again,
by daring to offer the renewal of his odious addresses, when he
discovered that your noble property was 7iot embarrassed at all !
Kever, never let me see him again, papa! if you love me ! "
"I do love you, my darling child! And you never shall see
him again, Gertrude ! " exclaimed her delighted father; who, till
she had uttered this consoling address to him, had positively
trembled as if he had been seized with palsy, from the terrible
idea that she was, perhaps, too much in love with the man who
had insulted him, to bear the thought of refusing him, now that
he was come forward again to offer himself.
Gertrude, meanwhile, on her side, was quite as much relieved
as himself; for most assuredly she had begun to conjure up
in her long-harassed mind, the frightful idea that she was not
even yet safe from him. His large estate, his lying, but seem-
ingly-humble apology, and that terrible page full of him in the
Almanack de Gotha, might altogether, she thought, have power
to destroy all the happiness which had gleamed upon her during
the last few hours,
Eut this frightful vision, which seemed to turn her hands and
feet to ice, and her cheeks to burning coals, vanished into some-
thing better than thin air, as the blessed words, " You never
shall see him again," reached her ear.
"And now for the answer, my Gertrude," said the happy-
looking baron, in a tone of light-hearted cheerfulness, which
seemed for a moment to conquer even his dignity ; " what answer
arc we to send him ? "
"Let me send it! Pray, papa, let me send it! May I?"
said Gertrude, coaxingly.
" Yes, my dear," he replied, after meditating for a minute or
two, with his accustomed look of solemnity; "yes. I feel sure
that I may trust you. But remember, my dear love, it must be
very decisive."
" It shall," said Gertrude.
" Must it be written, Gertrude?" rejoined her father, anxiously.
" Be very, very careful what you say to liim."
"I{o, dear papa! I think we have had writing enough," was
FAMILY PEIBE. 215
her anwer; and tlien she adcled, "Have the kindness, dearest
Madame Odenthal, to recal Hans. I daresay he is in waiting,
on the landing-place."
Madame Odenthal, who had been listening to all this with
almost as much amusement as interest, lost no time in complying
with this request ; and on opening the door which communicated
with the ante-room, she found that Gertrude's judgment as to
the servant's probable vicinity, was perfectly correct, for there
stood Hans, at the distance of about six inches from the key-
hole.
" Come in, Hans," said the baron, with gi-eat solemnity.
'' Come in, and shut the door. The Baroness Gertrude will give
a verbal reply to this dispatch."
Hans did as he was bid ; that is to say, he closed the door
behind him, and advanced two paces into the room.
Gertrude looked rather embarrassed, and approaching her
father, whispered in his ear, '' Don't you think, papa, that the
best reply will be simply to say, that the letter does not require
an answer? "
"Why, then he will come here at once, if you say that, Ger-
trude ! " said the baron, looking perfectly confounded.
"I think not, dear papa," she replied, in a whisper; adding,
in the same tone, " ask Madame Odenthal what she thinks."
"jSTo! Baroness Gertrude ! " returned the old man, proudly;
"I will ask no one. Your judgment deserves to be trusted.
Besides, my dear, we know," he added, touching his forehead
with his forefinger, "where all your opinions rcaUy come from,
in some way or other, and therefore I shall make no further diffi-
culty about it . . . Tell the Count Hernwold's servant," he said,
turning to Hans, with an air of peculiar dignity; "tell the
Count Hernwold's servant, that theee is xo axswee."
It really seemed as if the grandiose tone of his own voice had
acted as a commentary on the message, and enabled him to under-
stand the spirit of it; for no sooner had the servant closed the
door behind him, than the baron said, addressing Madame Oden-
thal, "I really think, my good friend, that our young baroness
is as right upon this point, as I have ever found her upon every
other. I really think, though it did not strike me so, quite at
first, that the sending no answer, says more in tke way of
expressing contempt, you know, than almost anything that
could have been written. If a person speaks to you, Madame de
Odenthal, and you don't choose to answer, I should say that it
was just about the most aiironting thing you could do."
21 G gehteude; oe,
As Mjulamc Otlcnilial Tory corc'ially c?:prcs?ccl her conviction
tliat the longest letter that ever was Aviitten could not by j^ossi-
hility express so much contempt as the sending- no answer at all, '
the remaining hours of that happy day were passed in " measure-
less content by them all ; " and certain it is, that had not my
heroine's sublime father been just about as dull-witted as he
believed himself to be the reverse, he could not have failed to
discover now, though he had never dreamed such a thing possible
before, that the heiress of his wealth, and the glor}" of his house,
had been within a hair's breadtli of sacrificing the happiness of
her whole life, in order to gratify his blind ambition.
I
CHAPTEE XXXII.
It would have been a difficult task to have induced the baron
to believe, before he had made the experiment, how very easy a
thing it is for a wealthy man to get into a scrape, and out of it
again, if he does but set to work at both processes in a spirited
way.
There was just delay enough occasioned by the negotiation
entrusted to Eupert, to prevent the *'De Schwanbergs" from
running away from Paris so suddenly as to create gossip by their
departure; and this was an advantage which nothing short of
absolute necessity would have obtained for them, for it might be
difficult to say whether the father or the daughter were the most
impatient to quit it.
This piece of good luck, however, was only appreciated by
Madame Odenthal ; for from the day that their prompt return to
the country was decided on, every moment of delay seemed only
a lengthened torment, both to the father and daughter.
Gertrude had been very much admired, and very much courted,
during her four months' residence in Paris ; but she had formed
no new friendships. Madame de Hauteville had retained her
place, not only as her favourite friend, but as the only one from
whose intimate society she found any real gratification.
Xo one, I believe, who has had a fair opportunity of fonning
an opinion on the subject, can fail to have observed that there is
much more sympathy of character between the women of Ger-
FAMILY rrjDB. 217
many and the women of England, than between those of France
with cither. The eficct of our jSTorman mixture is much more
easily traced among our high-born men, than among any class o{
English females ; and my heroine found herself much more at
home with her English friend, than with any one else whom she
chanced to meet with in Paris.
Lut Madame de Hauteville had left Paris, in order to visit her
own family in England, a week or two before this sudden break-
in g-up of the Baron von Schwanberg's Paris establishment ; and
the business of taking leave of her Parisian acquaintance was
therefore very easily performed, and without the cost of either
much time, or much sentiment.
There mi2,ht be read in the countenances of both father and
daughter, such an expression of "measureless content," as they
drew near thji noble mansion in which they both were born, that
there might have been supposed to exist between them very per-
fect sympathy of feeling ; but Madame Odenthal, as she looked
from the one to the other, made no such mistake. She under-
stood them both perfectly well ; and as each familiar object met
their eyes as they advanced, and was gazed at with a more or
less lingering look, as the case might be, she would have run but
little risk of blundering-^ had she undertaken to describe the
thoughts of both ; and the result of such a disclosure would have
shown, at least, as little real sympathy of feeling as there was
(though without intended delusion on either side) a striking
appearance of it.
Jiut not even in appearance was there any further similarity,
when at length the carriage entered the spacious courtyard of the
castle, and stopped before its lofty gates ; for at that moment the
dignified demeanour of the pompous baron relaxed in so unusual
a degree as to cause him not only to smile, but to nod his sublime
head, finite in a familiar waj*, to an individual who stood on the
steps leading to them ; while Gertrude, far from following his
example, turned as white as a sheet, and altogether looked very
much as if she were going to faint.
Madame Odenthal, however, was not looking about her, and
making her observations for nothing ; but, on the contrary, con-
tinued with very considerable cleverness to render it apparently
impossible for the Earoncss Gertrude to descend from the carriage
till several books, which happened just then to fall on the floor
and steps of the vehicle, had been removed.
Moreover, she managed, with great dexterity, to interpose her
own person between poor Gertrude and the servants, who were
218 gehteude; oh,
employed in picking np the said books ; and even to apply
a bottle of salts in a most judicious and effectual manner,
T^'ithout being observed by anybody save the grateful girl
herself.
jS'or were either her kindness or her cleverness in vain. Ger-
trude was qnite as anxious to conceal the weakness, for which
she sometimes felt as if she hated herself, as Madame Odenthal
could be, that it should be hid; and matters were so well
managed between them, that Gertrude not only got out of the
carriage, and mounted the castle steps very much as anybody else
might have done, but she positively shook hands with llupcrt
before she attempted to totter through the hall, and get out of
sight.
A small parlonr, which was appropriated to the use of Madame
Odenthal, was the room nearest the door, and there the suffering
and self-reproaching Gertrude took refuge ; her watchful friend
entering with her for a moment, and then returning to embrace
her son, and to assure the baron that Gertrude was perfectly well,
and only feeling a little over-fatigned by her journey.
"I hope that is all, my good Madame Odenthal," replied the
baron, rather dolefully; "but neither of us can be very much
surprised if she should appear a little overcome on returning to
her home, when we remember all she has suffered since she left
it!"
As Madame Odenthal thought it would be best to avoid dis-
cussion on the nature and amount of the misery which Gertrude
was enduring on account of leaving Paris, she only replied, " I
think, my lord baron, that you will find the health and spirits of
the Bareness Gertrude greatly improved after she has been for
a few weeks restored to her favourite residence, and to her native
air."
" Madame cle Odenthal ! " returned the baron very solemnly, but
looking at her, nevertheless, with very condescending kindness ;
" Madame de Odenthal ! I really believe that you are one of the
most sensible and right-thinking females that ever was born. I
cannot remember ever hearing you say a foolish thing in my life.
I am not, indeed, altogether at a loss as to the cause of this
peculiar superiority on your part ; for the Baroness Gertrude her-
self (who you know, as well as I do, is never mistaken) pointed
out to me the caiise of it, several months ago. I shall, therefore,
rest perfectly satisfied by what you say respecting my daughter's
health, and only observe, that if she and you both think it will
be best for her, after her long journey, to retire to her own room,
pAiriLT PniDE. 219
I shall say not a single word against her doing so, but only remark,
that I shall be rather pleased than otherwise, if the people of my
establishment can contriye to let me have my dinner somewhat
before the hour at which it was ordered ; for, although I am cer-
tainly not conscious of any weakness, either of body or of mind,
I feel that my journey has rather increased my appetite."
Of course, the usual degree of attention and obedience was
paid to the hint, and the dinner was hastened ; but either in con-
sequence of this change in the hour, or from some other cause,
Gertrude did not appear at table ; the message, however, by
which she excused herself from doing so, and which was de-
livered by jMadame Odenthal to the baron, concluded by a little
whisper, hinting at the many subjects connected with business,
which he would have to discuss with his secretary.
jS'othing could have been more judicious than this message.
The baron nodded his head as he listened, and he replied, ''Just
like her, Madame Odenthal! Quite right! Perfectly right ! "
And then he added, with a gracious little tap upon her shoulder,
"There will be no objection whatever, to your taking your
dinner with us, as usual, my good woman ; but I should wish
you to take the hint that the young baroness has given you, and
mnst desire that I may be left alone with my secretary as soon as
possible after the dinner is over."
The reply to this was, of course, received with the accustomed
mute inclination of the head ; and then the baron walked on with
a stately step towards the dining-hall, too happy — much too
happy — in finding himself restored to a position, far, far removed
from all possible approach of equality, to suffer much annoyance
even from the absence of his daughter.
As the dinner was a very excellent dinner, and the baron's
appetite a very excellent appetite, the repast was by no means
hurried, and by no means a very short one ; so that, when
Madame Odenthal returned to the quiet room where, at Ger-
trude's earnest desire, she had left her, to take her repast alone,
she was by no means surprised to find that she had already left it.
Her first idea was that she should follow, and find her ; but, as
she mounted the great staircase, in order to reach the young lady's
morning sitting-room, she passed a window which commanded an
extensive view of the gardens, and as she paused for a moment
to regale her eyes with a view of many pleasant objects from
which she had long been separated, she perceived the dress of
Gertrude, rather than Gertrude herself, floating gently along,
amidst the trees of a distant shrubbery.
220 geetelDe; oe,
Tjie meditation of a moment made her decide that she would
not follow her.
''Poor young tiling! She has great need of meditation,"
llionght she. " She has been miserably unhappy for months
pMst, and if there be any chance of her being less so now, it must
l.c in herself that she must seek for it. This is no case for advice,
and, least of all, from me. My best hope is, that she shall never
discover that I have guessed her secret. Were she aware of it,
I must, and would, leave her, for it would be treason and
ticaehery to li^jten to her ! "
CHAPTER XXXIII.
Pl'T although Madame Odenthal did not think it proper to
f'jllow poor Gertrude, I am conscious of no feeling which should
prevent my doing so, or which should dictate my abstaining from
inviting my gentle reader to go with me.
The sheltered walk which she had chosen, in which to enjoy
the luxury of being alone, was one that she had much frequented,
and much loved, from her very earliest childhood ; and it was,
moreover, endeared to her, almost solemnly, by having been the
favourite promenade of her mother.
Put the feeling which caused her to seek it now, proceeded not
from any motive more sentimental than a very earnest desire to
be alone.
She had left Paris with a feeling of joy which amounted Tcry
nearly to happiness ; and though her spirits sometimes drooped as
she meditated on the probable difficulties which might be in store
for her, there was a very comfortable conviction at her heart, that
she could never again be so exceedingly miserable as while
watching the preparation of the fine house in which she was
to live with the Count Ilernwold as her companion and her
husband !
There had been, too, a consciousness, not of happiness, cer-
ti'.inly, but of something like enjoyment, in knowing that every
mile she travelled brought her nearer and more near to Schloss
FAillLY PrJDE. 221
Scliwanberg — tliat liavcn of rest, ^vliere she so earnestly Tvislicd
to be.
Eut, alas I — tlic long jonrney accomplislicil, and tlic wislied-for
home opcniDg its doors to receive her — how death-like was the
pang which seized npon her heart !
She had not fainted ; no such moment of relief was even for a
moment hers ; "but she felt lost, bewildered, and terrified, when
her eyes fixed themselves, for one short moment, on the face of
Enpert, and she remembered that the wild pleasure which
throbbed at her heart as she did so, was still a sin!
There is certainly nothing which so effectually strengthens our
powers of endurance as the process of enduring. Gertrude was a
much stronger-minded person now than before she had passed
that di-eadful night of self-condemnation, during which she had
resolved to sacrifice herself, rather than betray the hopes and the
confiding confidence of her father.
AYhat she had endured from that frightful hour, to the happy
moment at which she learnt that she was again free, might give
her a fair claim to the courage of martyrdom ; and the reward
she now reaped for having endured it with so much faithful reso-
lution, was found in the quiet reasonableness with which she
was able to compare her present situation, with that which it had
been when she was the affianced wife of Count Ilcrnwold.
Yes ! The difference was enormous ! And even while tears
rolled down her blushing cheeks, as she remembered the joyous
feeling produced by the one short glance which she had dared to
fix upon Paipert, as he stood waiting for them on the steps of the
castle, she fervently thanked Heaven for the happy change which
had taken place in her condition.
But her reverie did not end here.
Never were truer words written than those of the immortal
line, which says, " Sweet are the uses of adversity." There is
scarcely more difference between joy and sorrow than between
the state of feeling into which Gertrude had been thrown when
her conscience dictated to her, as a holy, filial duty, the com-
pliance with her father's wishes, and which had so nearly made
her the wife of Count Hernwold, and that to which she was
resolved to resign herself.
And yet this latter, and comparatively happy state, involved
the absolute necessity of abandoning every hope of being beloved
by the only individual she had ever seen, who appeared to her
capable of inspiring love in return !
And she did resign herself to the deliberate conviction of
222 GEIITEUDEJ 01{,
Eupert's iudiffereuce, with a degree of gentle firmnesf?, and nn-
complaiuing hopelessness, "which proved plainly enough that the
uses of adversity had been beneficial.
''"What should I say, what should I think, of any woman who
declared that she had made up her mind to be miserable for life,
because the man upon whom, unsolicited, she had fixed her affec-
tions, had not fixed his affections upon her in return? "
This was the plain question she asked herself; and the answer
was such as to be well qualified to restore her to such a degree of
philosophic indifference as might last her through life, by way of
an antidote to all moaning misery from unrequited love.
This was decidedly a great step gained, and she felt it to be
so.
Her beautiful head was shaken back ; her eye lost its heavy
gloom ; her thoughts betook themselves to the well-filled shelves
of her noble library ; and then she thought of the cottages, and
the cottage children, and of all the good she might do among
them; and, finally, as she bent her lightened steps towards the
house, she looked cheerfully about her to the right and to the
left, and decided upon multiplying her flowers, and upon making
herself extremely learned about everything that concerned them.
The last hours of this chequered day were far — very far — from
being unhappy. On joining her father, she found him in excellent
sj)irits, for liupert had been a most agreeable companion. The
young man himself was certainly in no unhappy frame of mind.
My heroine, however much she might have been mistaken on
other points, had made no blunder in attributing both great
ability, and great elevation of character, to llupcrt. He had
loved, nay, he still loved, Gertrude with all the devotion of a
high-minded and enthusiastic character ; but he had seen, as
clearly as he had seen the sun in the heavens, that he ought not
to wish that she should love him in return.
He knew the baron, and all his follies, well ; but he knew, also,
how much he owed him. All that he might be said to value in
himself, he had acquired by the kindly and confiding shelter
which had been afforded him by this proud old man ; and Eupert
had not the bad courage to return all this, by seeking to under-
mine and destroy the dearest hope of his existence.
If he had ever been certain that he could have won Gertrude
by such domestic treachery, he could have seen no hope of happi-
ness in his success ; and although it certainly had been with an
emotion of almost overwhelming pleasure that he discovered, by
her treatment of his mother, that she did not, as he had most
JA3IILY rrjDE. 223
falsely imagined, share the overweening pride of her father, the
joy occasioned by this discovery was neither assumed or lasting.
He would, perhaps, have suffered more, had he hoped more.
And then came the journey to Paris, and the acknowledged
admiration of the brilliant world they found there. . . . And
then, the acceptance of Count Hernwold's proposals for her
hand.
And so ended, and closed for ever, what poor Eupert considered
as the only possible romance of his life !
The return of the family to Sehloss Schwanbcrg was, however,
not announced without causing him some slight emotion; and
the intelligence of Gertrude's broken engagement was not learned
with quite as much philosophical indifference as he could himself
have wished. But he schooled himself into a very rational con-
dition of spirits before the party arrived ; and the very pleasant
account which he had to report to the baron respecting the feel-
ings and the conduct of his tenants, rendered their dinner a very
pleasant one.
Eupert and his mother had found time to exchange a few
words before this dinner began; and when the baron and his
secretary adjourned to the family drawing-room to take their
coffee, they found Gertrude and her dame de comioagnie already
there ; and the evening was passed in a way that was extremely
satisfactory to the two young hearts, both of which had been tor-
mented by anticipating embarrassments and difficulties which,
happily, did not arise, to destroy the enjoyment of finding them-
selves (one and all of them) exactly where they most wished to
be.
Gertrude was the first who ventured, when the whole party
were thus assembled together, to lead the conversation to the
subject which, a short time before, had been so very painful,
namely, the borrowing money from the tenants. Eut she was
encouraged to break through all reserve upon the subject, by
knowing that the negotiation had terminated in the most satis-
factory manner possible ; and she trusted, moreover, to the savoir
faire of Eupert for detailing everything which it would be
pleasant for her father to hear, and nothing which it would not.
Her confidence was certainly not misplaced ; for Eupert knew
his patron well, and was as little likely to say anything which
had any chance of being painful to him, as Gertrude herself could
have been.
In fact, the result of this conversation was the reverse of pain-
ful in every way ; and not only was it gratifying to the old man,
224 GErtTEiJDE; oe,
at the time it took place, but it oponccl the way to many pleasant
feelings wliieh he had never experience;! before.
He knew himself to be an immensely great man, and assuredly
enjoyed the consciousness of being so not a little; but ho really
did not know that he was, moreover, a very kind and liberal one,
into the bargain.
But his prosperous tenants knew it, if he did not ; and the
lively description which llupert gave of the delight, ay, and the
gratitude also, with which his application to them had been re-
ceived, awakened such a pleasant consciousness of this truth also,
in the mind of the worthy baron, that he was evidently more
touched at heart by it, than he had ever before been seen to
be, by anything in which his daughter was not personally con-
cerned.
Gertrude watched all this with a sort of pleasure that was
quite new to her ; and when a c][uiet smile, having no reference
whatever to his grandeur, softened his proud features as lie lis-
tened to Eupert's very gra2:)hic narrative, Gertrude was so
touched by it, that she sprang from her chair, and imjUTSsed a
kiss of very genuine fondness on his forehead.
"It pleases you to hear all this, my dear child!" said her
father, throwing his arm round her. " And so it does mo, Ger-
trude," he added with great simplicity. " I am sure I doii't
know how it has happened that it never came into my head
before, that they might feel that sort of love for me that Ilapert
describes. I have never done anything for them except just not
using them ill, but I really like to hear that they take it so kindly."
" But everybody else knows how justly, and how truly, you
are beloved by these worthy people," said Madame Odenthal, re-
spectfully; " and that is the reason, my lord baron," she added
with a smile, "that I felt so very sure that there would be no
difficulty in the way of Rupert when he applied to them."
" I remember it, I remember it, my good friend! Your con-
duct upon that occasion does you great honour ! " returned the
baron, with a degree of condescension that was almost aifectionate.
'•' You arc a very excellent and a very valuable person, my good
Madame de Odenthal ; and both I and my daughter value you
accordingly."
To this very flattering testimony of approval, Madame Oden-
thal made a most respectful reply ; whereupon, the baron reite-
rated his compliment, and then added, with a sort of gay excite-
ment, which was very unusual to him, " But there was one thing
we talked about, my good friend, which you seem to have for-
FAMILY PEIDE. 225
gotten, but I have not, Madame dc Odenthal. I have not
forgotten what I said about inviting these worthy people to
dinner .... to dine at my own table, you know. Have you
really forgotten this ? "
" jS'o, indeed, Sir," said she, " I have not forgotten it, I had
too much pleasure at hearing you propose it. I knew perfectly
well that it was not very likely, or rather, I believe, I might say
it was impossible. But we must not be over-hasty, my good
friend. It is quite out of the question that I should do anything
of the kind, without first consulting the Earoness Gertrude. So
now we will hear what she says to it."
" What is it, papa? " said Gertrude, who had placed herself in
a chair beside him. " AYhat is the question which I am to
decide?"
The baron rubbed his chin, and smiled with very perfect good
humour; but yet he looked as if he were half-afraid that the
frankly acknowledged pride of his nobly-born and nobly-minded
daughter might be aroused, and shocked at the proposition he
was about to make.
He took courage, however, and said, *' The question, Gertrude,
is this. AVill it, in your estimation, be in any way indecorous
or improper, if I were, in consequence of the attachment and
affection of the excellent men, my tenants, of whom we have
been speaking, — would it, in your opinion, Gertrude, be in any
degree wrong, if I were to invite them to dine with us ... .
at our own table, Gertrude ? "
"Wrong, dearest father?" she replied with considerable
emotion. ''Instead of its being wrong, I should consider it as
one of the very best and most amiable acts that it would be
possible for you to perform I "
" Then it shall be done, Gertrude ! " returned her father, rathei
solemnly. "I know," he added, "what your feelings are on
certain subjects, and that I shall run no risk of infringing the
respect due to ourselves, if I have your sanction for doing what
I propose."
After this, there was no further doubt or difficulty as to the
invitation that was to be given to the good men and true, who
had done them more than yeoman service ; nay, Gertrude herself
was permitted to be the bearer of it ; and it may be doubted if
the baron ever felt himself a greater man, than when he looked
i at the happy faces of his grateful tenants, who seemed to have
; qiiite forgotten that he was their creditor, as they sat around
him at their splendid repast.
1 16
-26 GEEIEUDEJ OE,
CHAPTER XXXiy.
KoTHixG- could have happened more calculated to ensure the
peace -of Gertrude, and the tranquil duration of the rational and
improving life she was now leading, than the adventure which
had befallen her at Paris.
When the baron had decided upon making his excursion thither,
his head had been as full of grand matrimonial schemes as that of
the most ambitious beauty could have been, on first emerging
from her native shades.
But few young beauties ever received a more effectual check
to their hopes, or a more mortifying blow to their vanity, than
he had done.
Instead of studying the Almanack de Gotha, and dreaming
both by day and by night of great alliances, he now shrunk from
every allusion of the kind with a sort of sensitive aversion, which
seemed to promise Gertrude much lasting peace. And with this
very precious portion of happiness, she resolutely determined to
be content. Had she never known the bitterness of such real
mental anraish as she had endured during the time that she con-
sidered herself as bound to become the wife of Count Hernwold,
she would have been far less sensible of the blessings she was
now enjoying.
And, in truth, these blessings were manifold.
As soon as she became sufB.ciently tranquillised after the tur-
moil of emotions she had passed through while in Paris, to per-
mit her common sense to have fair play, she made the notable
discovery (which many others might make also, if they would
submit themselves to the same process) that there was much
more of good than of evil in her destiny. She positively brought
herself to smile at last, and not in " bitter sconi,^' either at the
idea of a girl under twenty, with health and wealth, an aficc-
tionate father willing to indulge her in every whim that could
enter her head, the command of an excellent library, and the
government of an excellent garden, making herself miserable,
with a deliberate intention of remaining so for life, because she
had fallen in love with a person who had not fallen in love with
her!
FAMILY PrJDE. 227
This was tlie statement of her case wliich she drew up with all
truth and sincerity ; and then, after contemplating the picture it
exhibited, she smiled, less, perhaps, at the picture itself, than at
the idea that she, Gertrude, the daughter of her high-minded and
philosophical mother, should submit her spirit to such thraldom.
The hours occupied by this mental process were not many ;
but the effect of them was both important and durable.
The first outward and visible sign of this, was the regularity
of her daily occupations. There were, moreover, one or two
changes which were so quietly brought about, that it was only
bv degrees that even Madame Odenthal herself became aware
that they were not accidental ; and that they were, moreover,
intended to be lasting.
During by far the greater portion of Gertrude's life, the library
had been the room in which she had chiefly lived ; but now it
was so no longer. JS^ot that she had by any means given it up
as a sitting-room ; on the contrary, she had induced her father
to repair thither regularly every evening, after he had finished
his coffee and his pipe, instead of seeking his daughter and his
tea (which he had learned to love as well as if he had been an
Englishman) in the drawing-room.
It was, also, in the library that her favourite pianoforte was now
placed, audit was there that her embroidery-frame ever stood ready, .
in case any book was in progress among them, deemed worthy of
being read aloud by Eupert during the last hours of the evening.
But before dinner the library now appeared to be exclusively the
domain of the librarian ; and although his mother occasionally •
passed an hour with him there, Gertrude never did.
Perhaps she was wise enough to recognize the truth of the
adage, that "it is easier to abstain, than refrain." Had she
permitted herself to pass any portion of her mornings in the
library, as in her mother's lifetime it had been their constant
habit to do, she might have remained there longer than would
have been consistent with the plan and manner of life which she
had now laid down for herself.
Eupert Odenthal was very decidedly a reading man, and,
doubtless, profited by the uninterrupted opportunities thus
afforded him of becoming acquainted with the literature of
Europe and America; both ancient, as regarded Europe, and
modern, as regarded all the rest of the world; for no change had
heen made in the long- established custom of permitting the mis-
tress of the house to augment the Schloss Schwanberg library
a discretion.
16—2
228 GELTEUDE ; OK.
Eut notwithstanding^ his strongly-dcvelopecl literary propen-
sities, Hiipert happened to be an accomplished gardener also, and
very particnlarly fond of flowers, and the scientific cultivation of
then). Eut although he had never made a mystery of this, it
seemed as if the j'oung mistress of the Schloss Schwanberg
gardens did not wish to consult any one's taste and science in the
art of gardening, besides her own and her gardeners ; for although
she rarely failed to pass some hours every day in the garden, for
not even bad weather prevented this, she never seemed to re-
member that there was such a place as the said garden, or such
a treasury of beauty and fragrance as her conservatories contained,
when Eupert was present.
AVhat the young librarian might have thought of so strange a
peculiarity, it would be difficult to say ; but with all his defer-
ence for the young heiress, he did not permit this apparent cap-
rice on her part, to interfere with his love of beautiful flowers,
or his scientific cultivation of them ; for he made it a daily habit
to i^ass the very first hour of daylight in the society of the head
gardener, who hajipened to be a familiar friend of long standing,
and who by no means seemed to be so adverse as his young mis-
tress, to profiting by the aid of the scientific young amateur ; and
little as the Earoness Gertrude might be aware of it, she owed
some of her rarest and most precious specimens to his persevering-
researches, and his learned skill.
Eut notwithstanding the abundance of domestic occupation
and amusement which Gertrude contrived to provide for herself,
and her well-beloved dame de compagnie also, she did not appear
at all disposed to neglect any opportunities for social intercourse
"which the neighbourhood afforded ; this was not indeed very
much, for as the properties in their neighbourhood were large,
the proprietors were, of course, few ; but fortunately the young
Earoness of Schloss Schwanberg was not the only individual
among them inclined to be sociable, and their retirement was by
no means deserving the name of seclusion.
The ridiculous affair of Adolphe von Steinfeld's sudden passion,
offer, and rejection, was remembered by his own family as a mere
boyish whim on his part, and had produced no subsequent cool-
ness between the respective families ; and now the news of his
speedy return, after the absence of nearly three years of far-and-
wdde wanderings, was anticipated with pleasure at Schloss
Schwanberg, as well as by the rest of the neighbourhood.
It may be that both the Earoness Gertrude and her librarian,,
heard the additional news, of his bringing home a young wife
FAMILY rPcIDE.' 229
■\;vith lilm, with more pleasure than surprise ; hut the coramuuity
of feeling between them, on this point, as well as on many others,
was never alluded to by either.
This expected addition to the somewhat monotonous society
of the neighbourhood, was, however, a theme freely discussed by
them all, as well as by every one else in the neighbourhood ; and
it was welcomed by all, as likely to produce a great many gay
parties.
The marriage of Adolphe was nevertheless not thoroughly
approved by his father, for though the lady was rich, she was
English ; and though she had the reputation of being highly ac-
complished, it was feared that she might not be able to converse
in German.
But, despite these little drawbacks to the complete satisfaction
of the Steinfeld family, they were prepared to welcome the fair
stranger most cordially ; for the very fact of her being the cause
of bringing the wandering Adolphe home again, was quite enough
to ensure her a gracious, nay, an affectionate reception.
Adolphe had announced that they were to be accompanied by
the unmarried sister of his bride ; and as he had taken care in
announcing this, to mention that the young lady was extremely
rich, extremely beautiful, and extremely accomplished, this
addition to their society was also joyfully hailed by all to whom
it was made known.
Even the Earon de Schwauberg, notwithstanding his usual
sublime indifference to most passing events, heard of this marriage
with satisfaction, as being a proof that the young man whom he
had always considered as a very promising youth, notwithstand-
ing his unfortunate exclusion from the Almanack de Gotha, had
recovered from the disappointment which he must have ex-
perienced from the rejection of his hand by Gertrude.
On the very first occasion that he had found himself alone with
his daughter after hearing this news, he expressed himself much
pleased b}^ the event.
*' The Von Steinfeld family are not only extremely good and
amiable, my dear Gertrude, but, notwithstanding their unfor-
tunate deficiencies in point of alliances, they really are of very
respectable nobility; and I sincerely rejoice to find that the son
has had the good sense to conquer his early, and perhaps some-
what presumptuous, attachment to you."
"His attachment to me, my dear father," replied Gertrude,
*' was the fancy of a mere boy, and not very likely to be remem-
bered long. But I too am very much pleased to hear of his
230 Gl^rtTiirDE ; oti,
having formed a marnago with a young lacly so liighly spoken
of, for I have always thought that the De Steinfcld family have
behaved very kiudly, in never showing any symptom of resent-
ment on account of the abrupt dismissal of their son ; and with
your pennission, I shall wish to pay every attention to the wife
of Adolphe."
"You will please me by doing so, Gertrude," replied the
baron, in a tone of very amiable condescension. " But yet," he
continued, with a smile, which was perhaps a little sarcastic ;
" it is probable, my dear, from the country whence he has selected
his bride, that the unreflecting character which seems to have
marked his race in their former alliances, is still perceptible in
him. 'Not that I mean absolutely to deny that there may be
found races of every respectable antiquity of descent, even in
England ; but, comparatively speaking, they are, I believe, very
few ; and you may depend upon it, that this young bride has not
been chosen from among them, or the father of young Adolphe
would have stated this, when he communicated to us the fact of
his marriage."
" No, papa," replied Gertrude, with less apparent astonish-
ment than the statement seemed to call for. " i!s'o, I do not
believe that Madame Adolphe de Steinfeld is of a noble family."
'' You state this, my dear Gertrude," returned the baron, with
a frown, which evidently betokened a disagreeable surprise ;
"you state this fact with a degree of indifference, which shows
that you feel less interest than I do for our very estimable and
very well-born neighbours. Perhaps it is not your purpose,
Gertrude, to honour her by any very intimate degree of ac-
quaintance? "
"Indeed, papa, I have no such feeling!" she replied, very
earnestly; "on the contrary, I looked forvvrard with much
pleasure to the chance of finding another English friend whom I
may love almost as much as I do Madame de Haute ville."
I^othing could have been more likely to i)romote the rapid
growth of intimacy between Gertrude and her ii£w neighbours,
than this conversation ; for in the first place it at 'once removed
any doubts she might have had respecting her father's approval
of it ; and in the next, it suggested the idea that she might bo
really useful to the wife of Eupcrt's highly valued friend,
Adolphe, by showing the neighbourhood that the heiress of
Schwanberg did not consider her deficiency of noble descent, as
any impediment to friendship.
FAMILY PKTDE. 231
CHxVPTER XXXY.
It is pretty nearly impossible that any bride should make her
first appearance in a country neighbourhood, without becoming
an object of considerable curiosity to every individual who makes
a part of it ; but when the lady is young, handsome, rich, and a
foreigner, this feeling is natui'aliy heightened to a degi'ee, that
makes the first sight of her a matter of real importance. In the
case of Madame Adolphe von Steinfeld, this feeling was rendered
more active still, by the long absence of the bridegroom from the
neighbourhood. Adolphe had been a very popular personage
among them, and his return after so long an absence, was of it-
self enough to produce a great activity of visiting ; no wonder
then that his arrival, accompanied by a beautiful young wife,
should be the signal for a great deal of neighbourly and hospitable
intercourse. Nor was the additional circumstance of the newly-
married pair being accompanied by a splendidly beautiful sister
of the bride, to be considered as a matter of trilling importance.
Both the ladies were the daughters of a wealthy London
banker, but by different mothers ; the unmarried sister being the
elder of the two, and in possession not only of the handsome for-
tune bec[ueathcd to her by her recently deceased father, but of
her mother's still larger propeiiy, of which she was the sole
heiress.
Adolphe de Steinfeld was wise enough to say little or nothing
concerning the defunct banker ; for he well knew that the fact
of his having passed the last years of his very respectable life
amidst the best society that our humble island can boast, would
do but little to redeem his memoiy from the odium of having
^^lecn in business,^^ in the judgment of the rustic magnates
among whom his daughters were now welcomed as beauties, and
heiresses of high degree.
Adol]ohe, however, had not married his wife because she was
rich ; he really was very sincerely in love with her, though she
was as little like the object of his first love, as it was well possible
for a pretty young woman to be,
Madame Adolphe de Steinfeld was a bright little creature, that
232 gehtetjde; oe,
at twenty-two, scarcely looked more than fifteen. She was
mirjnonne in the fullest sense of that very expressive epithet.
MoreoTcr, she had untamable animal spirits ; and rather than
not be amused, she would have had recourse to the tricks of a
monkey, or the frolics of a kitten.
She certainly was good-humoured; for she was not only
laughter-loving herself, but rather than not see those around her
laughing also, she would put in action, without scruple, any and
every species of playful mischief in order to produce it.
Her unmarried sister was a very different sort of person. She
was six years the senior of Madame Adolphe de Steinfeld ; but
from the beauty and delicacy of her complexion, looked consider-
ably younger than she was. Her eyes were large, blue, and of
the most languishing softness ; and her abounding hair, which
descended in long natural ringlets to her shoulders, was almost
flaxen. In person she was tall and beautifully formed, but be-
ginning to show slight symptoms of becoming a little more plump
than was consistent with that exquisite perfection of youthful
beauty of which she had been justly considered, in her own par-
ticular style, as a model.
How it happened that this beautiful Arabella Morrison, with
a fortune of several thousands a year, over which no human being
had any control but herself — how she had contrived to reach the
age of twenty-eight years, without being tempted to bestow her-
self and her thousands upon some one of the very many who had
smiled and mourned, knelt and prayed, in the hope of being taken
into life-long partnership by the banker's fair daughter, was a
mystery to many.
The answer which perhaps most nearly approached the solution
of it, was given by her giddy young sister Lucy, when she was
questioned on the subject by the nurse, who had been very much
like a mother to her since the early death of her real parent.
"What can be the reason. Miss Lucy, that your sister, with all
her beauty, and all her money, has never got a husband yet?
Why, my dear, she is going on very fast for thirty."
This speech from Nurse Norris produced the following reply
from Lucy, who was at the moment very busily engaged in exa-
mining some part of her own bridal paraphernalia.
*'I think I can tell you the reason, Nurse Norris," she said.
" She admires and adores her beautiful rich self too much, to
think that any one who has yet asked her to bestow herself upon
" him is worthy of such a treasure."
<'AYhy, then, in that case, Lucy dear," returned Nurse Norris,
FAMILY rrjDE. 233
*' it is likely she will die an old maid at last, notwithstanding
her being such a beauty and heiress."
" Xo! — not if she has the luck of ever seeing any one suffi-
ciently worth having, to make her pay a good price for him."
" Eut if she goes on much longer," rejoined jS^urse IS^orris, "she
may have to ask the question her own self, Miss Lucy ; for those
that the like of Miss Morrison would call good matches, generally
like something young, as well as rich."
" AYell ! — we shall see. Goody ! " returned the busy bride-elect.
"All I know is, that she has made Count Adolphe promise to
take her to Germany with us ; and so now you may go on with
your packing, without wasting any more time in gossip. . . .
And if I do not find everything in the most beautiful apple-pie
order for starting by the day after to-morrow, I will leave you
behind me, as sure as your name is j^urse ISTorris ! "
The only reply to this threat was given by a very fond nurse-
like kiss upon the forehead of the pretty threatener.
Eut we must leap the gulf between this threat and the safe
establishment of the bridal party, of which jS"urse Noms made
an important part, at the far-away German castle of Count Stein-
feld.
It may easily be imagined that Schloss Schwanberg was not
the last of the noble mansions in the neighbourhood whose gates
were opened to receive the gay bridal party which it was expected
would so greatly enliven the society.
The meeting between the bridegroom and his affectionately-re-
membered friend, llupert, was as cordially friendly as their
parting had been.
Had Adolphe not returned as a married man, it is possible that
Eupert, notwithstanding all his deep resolves to retain to his
dying day his passionless respect for Gertrude, might have felt,
in spite of himself, that the renewal of acquaintance between
her, and her former adorer, might produce a change in the present
even tenor of their life at Schloss Schwanberg, which would not
tend to the general happiness of its inhabitants.
Eut, as the case stood now, the pleasure of the meeting was
equal on both sides, and unmixed with any drawback whatever.
Even the sort of embarrassment which might have arisen, either
from an awkward allusion, or from no allusion at all, to this
violent first-love fit of the bridegroom, was eff'ectually prevented
by the light and frolicsome tone in which Adolphe himself now
recurred to it.
"Do you remember how distractedly I behaved about that nice,
234 . GJ:rtTrttTi)E ; os,
good, quiet girl at ScTiwanbcrg, Eupert?" said he. '^IIow on
earth I cYcr came to take it into my head that I was iiL love with
her, I shall never he able to comprehend, if I were to live a
thousand j'ears ; for, the real fact is, she was by no means the
sort of girl I admire. As I think of her now, it really seems to
me that I must hare pretended to be in love, in order to amuse
myself. Do you remember all about it, Eupert? "
" Yes ; perfectly," replied Paiport with a quiet smile.
*'0h! I don't wonder at your laughing, for I perfectly well
remember, too, that you told me at the time, that you did not see
any beauty in her. . . . And, I daresay, you were very right.
Eut do you also remember the 'Almanack de Gotha?' How
many a good laugh have I had, from remembering that scene with
the stiif-backed old baron ! Has she ever had any offers since,
Eupert?"
' ' Oh, yes ! I believe so. She was very much admired at Paris,"
was Eupert' s discreet reply.
''Perhaps the tender-hearted Parisians found out that she was
an heiress? " returned Adolphe. "Eut the warlike Gauls would
have no chance whatever with the baron and his 'Almanack.' "
"Probably not," returned Eupert; "and so little, on the
whole, did the baron like his Parisian campaign, that I advise
you. Count, not to allude to it, if you wish to keep him in good
humour."
" If you call me CorxT, I will shoot you, Eupert. So you had
better keep me, too, in good humour, I promise you. And if you
could contrive to make the baron talk a little about the 'Almanack
de Gotha ' before my wife, I should really take it as a very par-
ticular kindness, my dear friend, for she is the most laughter-
loving little animal that ever was born."
Eupert answered him very gravely, that if he, Bupcrt, was to
be kept in good humour, it could only be done by not laughing at
the baron at all.
" If your young wife, my dear Adolphe, deserves the happiness
of being your wife, as much as I hope and trust she does," con-
tinued Eupert, earnestly, ."she will soon learn to value his
daughter too highly to find food for mirth in anything that would
be painful to her."
"Ee not too serious with me, my dear old friend ! " returned
Adolphe, with a feeling that was anything rather than jocose.
"If I, indeed, thought my dear laughing little wife was really
capable of wounding the feelings of a good daughter, for the sake
of a joke which might amuse herself, I should be very likely to
FAMILY PRIDE. 235
run away from hor. I daresay you cTo not know yourself as well
as I know you, Piupert, or you miglit give me credit for sounder
judgment than you are now, perhaps, likely to attribute to me,
when I tell you that I have never, since we parted in the forest
yonder, met with any one whom I could consider as worthy to
rival you as my chosen friend. I must have recourse, I believe,
to that delightful entreaty — pardon me for being jocular — which
we enjoyed so heartily together some half-dozen years ago; but,
notwithstanding this dangerous propensity, which has certainly
been greatly increased by my union with Madame la Contessa
Adolphe Stcinfeld, I am quite aware, Eupert, that I have not
yet met with any man whom I considered as your equal ; and as
long as I feel this, you need not fear that I should do or say any-
thing that could pain you, for the sake of a jest."
This conversation was of considerable importance in fostering
the intimacy between the noble houses of Schwanberg and Stein-
feld; for Gertrude would never have endured the seeing her
father made an object of ridicule, or even of playful sport, by the
young English stranger, although she was well inclined to profit
by her vicinity, and to assist her own schemes for the arrange-
ment of a very cheerful and happy existence, without running
the risks which might perhaps be incurred by any more visits to
gay capitals.
The amusement of the neighbourhood, when welcoming and
fci-tiDg the fair strangers, was probably not a little increased by
watching the remarkable contrast between them.
It took Pvupert but little time to arrive at a tolerably decided
conclusion respecting both the ladies, and he rejoiced with very
affectionate sincerity that the choice of his friend Ptupert had
fallen on the younger sister. Tov\'ard3 her, he felt disposed to
feel, and to cherish, very friendly sentiments ; for, amidst all her
wild rattle, he discerned considerable shrewdness of observation,
and, what was better still, a cheerful temper and a loving heart.
Moreover, it was easy enough for an observer less interested on
the subject than himself, to see that she was devoted, heart and
soul, to her husband ; and that, in the midst of all her Irolics, the
idea of amusing and pleasing him was the prevailing thought,
and the inspiring motive.
Of the elder sister, Gertrude, at least, formed a very different
judgment. In point of personal beauty, indeed, she thought
that there could be no second opinion ; for, in her estimation,
Miss Morrison was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen ;
while, to the miniature bride, she could not accord any enithet
236 GERTliUDE; OUj
more flattering than '^pretti/.^^ Beyond this opinion respecting
her beauty, however, not even her very sincere wish to like her
new neighbours, could enable her to add a single word that be-
tokened either admiration or approval of the elder. She thought
her imperious, affected, vain, and capricious ; and there was
something in her manner of attracting and receiving the atten-
tions of eveiy man whom she thought it worth her while to
notice at all, which was so totally unlike anything Gertrude had
ever seen before, as to puzzle as well as disconcert her.
Probably, however, neither her liking for the younger sister,
nor her disliking of the elder, had much immediate influence on
the intercourse which followed. It was speedily a settled point
in the neighbourhood, that the English ladies were to be wel-
comed among them by every possible species of hospitality ; and
for several weeks this amiable project prospered in every direction.
The old became young, and the young became brilliant ; and a
somewhat remote province of Germany seemed in a fair way of
rivalling the memories of Brighton and Hyde, in the judgment
of the English sisters.
But, decidedly, the individual who enjoyed all this the most,
was the Baroness Gertrude.
She had, indeed, previously pretty well made up her mind to
the belief that she not only was, but she was sure to continue so,
exceedingly happy in the mode of life which she had arranged
for herself, that nothing more was, or could be, wished for. But
when she perceived the marked change which the return of Count
Adolpho made in the existence of llupcrt, she began to think
difl'erently.
That Iluport was as much superior in mind and information
to all her noble friends and acquaintances, as he was inferior to
them in rank and fortune, was a truth that was too deeply im-
pressed upon her mind to be ever overlooked or forgotten ; and
notwithstanding her resolute spirit of content, she did sometimes
sigh in secret, as she remembered how completely he was shut
out from all intercourse with that stirring world, of whose mar-
vellously rapid onward movement she was made tolerably well
aware by the unlound compartment of her library.
Her mother's often-expressed opinion of Eupert's intellectual
superiority, had certainly left a deep impression on her memory ;
and this, together with her own consciousness that it had never
yet been her lot to meet any one else whose mind seemed in har-
mony with her own, or could be in harmony with his, made her
often sigh in secret that there were no means within her reach,
FAMILY PEJDE. 237
Ly wliich she could assist him to break through the barrier that
seemed to separate him from all Tvhose talents and acquirements
could render them fitting' companions for him.
The mistake which Eupcrt had fallen into, of fancying that
the young Gertrude beheld Count Adolphe with especial favour,
originated solely in her almost unconscious gratitude to that
highly-talented young noble for having selected their obscure
librarian as his favourite companion and most intimate friend ;
and the evident and eager pleasure with which this intimacy was
now renewed by the travelled bridegroom, and welcomed by the
remote and almost solitary scholar, again caused Gertrude (who
was in no danger now of being so inconveniently mistaken) to
profit by every possible opportunity of bringing the families
togetherr
In this object she certainly succeeded to the utmost extent of
]ier wishes ; for scarcely a day passed without their meeting.
But as Count Adolphe was no longer a single man, who could,
without impediment, trot over the three miles which divided
them, either with or without the assistance of his horse ; their
almost constant comjoanionship could not have been achieved, had
not Gertrude encouraged his young bride to accompany him, both
on foot and on horseback.
Fortunately, this young bride was really a very charming little
girl ; and having wisely made up her mind that somehow or
other she must, and would, learn to talk German, she speedily
discovered that the Bareness Gertrude was the only individual
she had yet met with, who at all understood how to teach her.
This would all have gone on very completely to Gertrude's
satisfaction, had this extreme intimacy of intercourse been con-
fined to Count Adolphe and his gay little wife ; but, un-
fortunately, the beautiful Miss Morrison did not permit it to
continue long, before she gave her sister to understand that it
was her will and pleasure to be included in the horse and foot
expeditions to Schloss Schwanberg, which were of such constant
recurrence.
" But you cannot go there every morning, as I do, Arabella,
unless the Baroness Gertrude invites you," remonstrated the
young Countess Adolphe.
" Do not give yourself any trouble on that account, Lucy,"
was Miss Morrison's reply; " only let me know at what hour
you mean to set off to-morrow morning, and I will manage about
the invitation for myself."
" What nonsense! " exclaimed Lucy, shi'ugging her shoulders.
238 gehteijde; oe,
" You could not walk there, and back agaiu, as I do, without
fancying yourself half killed ; and as to j'our riding ! jlercy on
me ! Just fancy yourself and your ringlets trotting away upon
such a pony as Adolphe has got for me ! "
These remonstrances were very reasonable, and founded on
truths incontrovertible. But women are wilful — pretty women
particularly so ; and when wealth is added, without either father,
mother, brother, or husband to control the wishes and whims of
the fair possessor, this wilfulness sometimes assumes a degree of
power and activity that becomes troublesome to those within its
influence.
CHAPTEE XXXVI.
''Use lessens marvel." It would have been considered as a
strange and portentous spectacle a year or two before, if Schloss
Schwanberg had been seen any single day of the year, under the
same aspect as it might now be contemplated every day, and
sometimes all day long.
The hall-door seemed now to be always standing open, instead
of being always solemnly shut. The library was no longer
sacred to Eupert and his catalogue ; but Adolphe von Steinfeld
might be seen, stretched at easy, if not at lazy length upon the
sofas of this noble apartment, with more than one precious volume
within easy reach of his hand there, though he might have sought
for such in vain for many an Austrian mile around him.
And Eupert was there too, but no longer like the deeply-read
and careful librarian, gravely, in youthful earnestness inhaling,
as it seemed, the atmosphere around him, and thankful to Heaven
in his very soul, that if shut out by destiny from free communion
with human hearts, he was thus enabled to exercise his intellect,
side by side as it were, with the highest order of liuman minds.
Eupert no longer passed his long mornings in solitude ; nor was
his free and easy friend Adolphe his only companion. For the
joretty little Lucy had a great notion that she too had a taste for
books ; and in order to prove this to the entire satisfaction of her
dearly beloved iVdolphe, she rarely, or rather never suffered any
of their long lounging morning visits to be brought to a conclusion
FAMILY PEIDE. 239
Avitliont insisting upon it, that Gertrude should go "witli her into
the library, not exactly for the purpose of reading, but in order
to look at all the beautiful books, and make her clever husband,
and his first-rate learned friend llupert, talk about them.
In all this literary lounging the beautiful Arabella took her
part, although the doing so, was so striking an innovation upon
her usual habits, that her sister, naturally enough, remarked upon
it ; and had more than once asked her what pleasure she could
possibly find in sitting, or in lounging about for hours together,
in a great big room, without a single looking-glass in it.
'^ I suppose I find the same kind of pleasure that you and Ger-
trude do," was once her reply,
'' Oh ! dear no, Arabella ! that is quite impossible ! " returned
the indignant bride. '' '^Vithout ever saying a word about Ger-
trude, although she certainly is mj/ very particular friend, I have,
I should hope, reason enough to like to be there. If you could
but be so lucky, Arabella, as to find some one handsome enough,
and grand enough, to give yourself and your fortune to, you
would know, without my telling you, what it is that makes me so
fond of the Schwanberir librarv."
'' Upon my word, my dear child, you make yourself as great a
fool about your husband, as you do about everything else. If I
were in your place, Lucy, I should be positively ashamed of
showing such excessive fondness for any man. If Adolphe were
ten times my husband, I would not follow him about as you do."
"You do not know what you are talking about, Arabella!
"When you are married yourself, my dear, I shall be much more
inclined to listen to your opinion."
'' And in that case it is most probable that my opinion would
not be so much worth having," replied the beauty. " However,
while things remain as they are," she added, " I shall do all I
can to prevent your making j'ourself appear too ridiculous in the
eyes of the Baroness Gertrude, and, it may be, of your husband,
also ; and of course, my taking care to be always with you, will
be the most effectual way of achieving this important object."
Lucy looked in her face and laughed, but said nothing. It
was a saucy look, and might have said, being interpreted, " do
not trouble yourself!" The baron, meanwhile, had every ap-
pearance of being in better health and spirits than his daughter
ever remembered to have seen him enjoy. I^or was she at all
mistaken in this opinion ; Laron von Schwanberg never had felt
himself so happy before.
It had certainly been with the expectation of finding a more
240 geeteude; oe,
illustrious sou-in-law among the numerous admirers who were
sure to crowd round his heiress in the splendid salons of Paris,
than he could hope to meet with in the retirement of his noble,
hut remote castle, that he had made the joyless excursion which,
in every sense, had cost him so dear ; and it is highly probable
that he would have sunk into very hopeless dejection, in con-
sequence of what befel him in the course of it, had he not been
sustained by firmer spirits than his own. Eut now, instead of
this, he really felt himself a happier man than he had ever been in
his whole life before. In the first place he had inflicted indignity
in the very hour Avhen he was tortured by the idea of receiving
it. In the next, he felt, on returning to his own isolated baronial
greatness, that no other greatness could bear a comparison with
it in real dignity. And then came the agreeable surprise of
finding that he was beloved, as well as reverenced, by those
whose industry furnished his revenues ; and last, but not least
among the subjects he found for self-gratulation, was the dis-
covery that he had not offended his good and noble neighbours
of Steinfeld, by pointing out to them the lamentable fact, that
their names were not to be found in the " Almanack de Gotha."
All this, joined to the unhoped-for blessing of seeing his heiress
apparently as happy as himself, might well account for the fact
that the stately baron condescended to give symptoms of being a
very contented, as well as a very dignified old man.
Had the case been otherwise, Gertrude would never have ven-
tured, nay, she would never have wished to promote this daily
and familiar intercourse with their neighbours, as cordially as she
now did ; nor was there any great self-delusion in her believing
that she did so as much for her father's sake, as for Eupert's.
But assuredly Eupert's share in the matter was not trifling.
Xo woman, perhaps, ever believed herself more sincerely in
earnest than Gertrude did, when she made up her mind to
renounce, at once and for ever, every hope, every dream, of
Eupert Odenthal's ever becoming attached to her. Eut this was,
in her estimation, a reason for, rather than against, the doing
everything which was in her power for his permanent advan-
tage.
"Had Eupert loved me," thought she, ''I could have passed
many happy 3'ears of life in quietly watching the development of
his admirable mind, and in teaching myself to become in some
degree worthy of being the companion of his life .... The
happiness of my dear father would still have been the first and
holiest of my daily cares; and when he should have been taken
FAMILY PEIDE. 241
from mo, 1 would have become the wife of Rupert, with no fear
that the spirit of my father, if removed to a higher sphere,
woukl contemplate with displeasure my uniting myself to the
most exalted being I have ever met with in this. . . . But now
my object must be different. Ptupert loves me not. But shall I
withdraw my aid from him for this ? Eupert must be as a bro-
ther to me ; and I have only to fancy myself a few years older
than I am, and that I am his elder sister (somewhat unjustly
made my father's heiress), in order to render all that I intend to
do as easy as it will be righteous. But it would be very sad,
should he be forced by his position here, to pass years of solitary
thought, and solitary study, without any companion capable of
doing him justice. Adolphe de Steinfeld is full of bright intelli-
gence, and he does Kupert justice. Accident has thrown them
into great intimacy, and it shall not be my fault if this ripen not
into close and life-long friendship."
It was thus she reasoned, and upon this reasoning she acted.
In one respect, at least, this scheme worked pleasantly, and suc-
ceeded well ; for no day passed without bringing the two young
men together, and no sorrow followed without the feelings of
mutual sympathy and esteem between them being increased.
Had the share which the English sisters took in this intimacy
been more annoying than it really was, Gertrude would very
resignedly have submitted to it. But she really liked the
young bride exceedingly ; and though the addition of the beautiful
Arabella to the coterie was not felt as an improvement by any of
them, it was too inevitable to provoke either resistance or com-
plaint.
The young Countess Adolphe, however, did at length relieve
her mind upon the subject, by setting Nurse ISTorris to talk about it.
"I wish I knew what it was induced Arabella to follow
Adolphe and me so, when we go to Schloss Schwanberg," said
the bride, as her loving tire-woman was arranging her beautiful
hair. "Does her gossiping maid, Susan, never make any of her
sage remarks upon it, Xorris?"
Norris continued for a minute or two to brush the silken tresses
which hung over her hand, without making any reply to this
question ; and then Lucy turned suddenly round upon her, at the
risk of deranging all this beautifying brushing, and exclaimed,
"JN'ow, then, I am sure there is some mystery about it, JSTorris,
or else you would have answered me directly. Tell me, this very
moment, all about it, or I will send you home in a Dutch waggon
to-morrow ! "
17
242 geeteijde; oe,
''Well now, Miss Lucy .... I beg your pardon, my Lady
Countess ! .... be so kind as to let me bide with you a little
longer, and I will tell you all I know about it ; but that is so
little, that if I don't add a small bit of guess-work to it, I don't
think it will be worth your ladyship's hearing . . . But, Susan
certainly does say, that she thinks Miss Arabella has fallen in love
again."
''And I should not be the least surprised if she had," replied
the Countess Adolphe ; "if it were not that the only man she
sees, except the old baron, takes no more notice of her than if
she were made of wax. Does Susan say, or think, or guess, or
whatever you call it, that Arabella has fallen in love with the
Baron von Schwanberg ? "
" ;No, Miss ! No, my lady ! I do beg your pardon, my darling,
but you do look so very young, that 1 can't get myself to
remember that you are married, and a Countess."
"Never mind about that, you foolish old woman. I forgive
you now, once and for ever, and you may call me baby if you
will, till I am as old as the beautiful Arabella herself, if you
- will only go on with your story. Has my magnificent sister set
her heart upon being Baroness von Schwanberg? Upon my word
and honour. Goody, 1 should be delighted to hear it. Only just
think of the fun I "
"Yes, Miss .... yes, my lady. I have seen the tears come
into your eyes with laughing at things she has done not half so
funny. But that is not it," replied Nurse IS orris.
"Then what is it, you silly old woman?" resumed her impa-
tient young mistress. " There certainly is a person at the castle,
that though, of course, not half-a-quarter so charming in my
eyes, is quite as handsome, and I daresay some might say still
handsomer, than my beautiful Count Adolphe ; but I tell you,
nurse, that he takes no more notice of her than if she were a stick.
You won't tell me, I suppose, that Arabella has fallen in love
with him?"
" I don't speak of my own knowledge, my dear," replied
Norris, "for how should I? Miss Arabella never tells any of
her secrets to me. But Susan says, that this great beauty and
fortune that you have got the happiness of having for your
sister, is fallen so over head and ears with that handsome young
gentleman at the castle, that she thinks she will be after poisoning
herself, or may be jumping into the river yonder, if she don't get
him."
The young Countess remained silent for a minute or two, and
( o
fa:mily peide. 21
it was certr.Iiily a wicked thouglit that occupied licr during tliis
interval. Ilcr rich and beaulitiil elder sister was an immense
bore. She had bored Lucy from the very earliest moment at
which she could remember her own existence ; she had bored the
beloved Adolphe very grievously during the earlier months of
their acquaintance, and before his engagement to herself had
given her a right to take possession of him . . . And now she
was, most unquestionably, a terrible bore to them both. " AYhat
a relief it would be, if that handsome Rupert Odenthal would
marry her ! " That was the thought which had entered her head ;
and certainly it was, considering her own opinion of her beautiful
sister, a wicked thought.
But it would have been more wicked still, if the Count-
ess Adolphe had not been the daughter of a rich English
banker.
The idea that wealth was the most important ingredient in the
earthly destiny of a human being, had grown with her growth,
and strengthened with her strength ; and it should be stated in
her defence, that if half the wicked thouglit was suggested by
the consciousness of the immense relief which it would bo to i2,i't
rid of her sister ; the other half arose from the simultaneous
recollection that Rupert was only librarian to the Baron von
Schwanberg, although the great learning and cleverness of her
beloved Adol])he had selected him as his chosen friend, on account
of his wonderful intellectual superiority.
But weighty, and mighty, and important as these thoughts
were, they did their work so rapidly, that there was but a short
j interval of silence between the young Countess and her aged
attendant, before the meditative bride said, turning sharply round
! to the old woman, who had resumed her hair-brush : ''And ])vaj,
I goody wise-woman, what has Susan seen, or heard, to put such
stuff into her head ? "
" Oh ! lor ! my dear young lady, if I was to set about repeating
one-half of Susan's long stories, it w^ould be time for you to go to
bed before I had done."
" AVell then, just pick out a few as quick as you can, there's
a dear old darling, and you shall tell me the rest another time. I
ijust want to see if there is anything at all like common sense in
what she says."
' *' Why, first and foremost, my dear, Susan says, that she is got
pack to the old way which she always takes to, in all her love fits ;
that is, you know, she will sometimes dress herself two or three
limes over in difi'erent styles, as she calls it, and then stc\ncls
244 geeteude; oe,
tofore tlie glas?, and practises, like, half shutting hoi eyes, and
lianging her head on one side, and leaning upon her fine white
arm with I don't know how many bracelets on it, sitting before
the glass all the time, and looking at her own face as if she was
longing to kiss it. And this is the way, Susan says, that she
always goes on when she is in love ; and you know, my dear,
Susan must know a little about it, because she has seen it over
and over again, so very often. AVell, and then she has been at
the old work of flower-keeping, till the leaves all fall upon the
carpet, day after day, as she presses them to her heart. And
then she brought home a gentleman's glove with her one niglit,
when you had all been dining at the castle ; and this glove she
goes on sticking in under her pillow every night. But all this
would be nothing, you know, my lady, in anybody else; but
Miss Arabella has been going on now so many years in the same
way, and we always are so sure to hear that she is going to be
married after every new beginning of this sort ; that, bless you,
my dear, Susan knows the signs, she says, as well as she knows
the figures on her sampler. And all this began, my lady, when
you was a little girl at school."
"And pray, my good Xurse IN'orris, if Susan is so very ob-
serving, can she not tell us why none of all these fifty thousand
love affairs ever ended in marriage ? AVith Arabella's fine for-
tune, to say nothing of her beauty, it is quite impossible that all
the men who have offered to her, and been accepted too, should
all turn out traitors, and forsake her."
*' Yes, to be sure, my dear, it would be impossible to believe
it; and that's the reason, I suppose, why it never happened.
Susan says, that she don't believe that any one of all her lovers ever
played her false in any way. . . . The fortune, you see. Miss
Lucy, is such a hold-fast. i\o ! my dear, it was none of all the
gentlemen, nor was it your poor, dear papa either ; for she soon
gave him to understancl, good, quiet gentleman, that she was in-
dependent of him. Ko, my dear child ! It was nobody in the
wide world but her own self who ever broke off" any of the mar-
riages. Eut Susan says, that it was no sooner settled that she
was really to be married to a gentleman, till little by little, day
after day, she seemed to get tired of him, and began taking to
somebody else ; and she knew well enough that her money always
made her sure of her work. She knew, Miss Lucy, that she
might play as many queer tricks as she liked, without the least
bit of danger that she would be left in the lurch to die an old
maid. She is quite up to that, my dear ! . , . Nobody ever says,
FAMILY TEIDE. 21-5
or sings either, to a lady with eighty thousand pounds in her
pocket,
'If you Avill not Avlien you may,
When you ^Yill, you shall have nay.'
She knows as well as everybody else, that gentlemen never do
say ' nay ' to that."
''You arc a very wise old woman, Goody Norris," said lur
young mistress, laughing heartily; ''and as I don't think tlii.s
love-making sister of mine will ever fail, in some way or othei",
to take good care of herself, I certainly do not mean to give my-
self any trouble about her. It will be funny enough, to be sure,
if all this English banking money should settle down at last into
the pocket of a German baron's library ! Eut, upon my word,
my greatest objection to it would be, that I think he is a great
deal too good for her."
" "Well, my lady, of course you know best," returned the
old woman, demurely. "Eut if the young gentleman is as
wise as we hear he is handsome, he miaht manage, I should
think, to be the last of her lovers, and the first of her husbands,
without troubling himself much about her goodness. Money is
a very fine thing, my lady ! "
The effect of this conversation on the young bride was not,
perhaps, exactly what it ought to have been. The state of affairs,
as described by her sagacious old nurse, appeared to her to pro-
mise a very considerable portion of fun ; and her imagination im-
mediately set to work to devise scenes, and arrange cii'cumstances,
in the best possible manner, for the purpose of extracting amuse-
ment from this new amourette of her fair inflammable sister.
Her firm conviction that the object of this tender passion did
not, in the very slightest degree, return it, only added zest to
the jest ; and there would be novelty, too, in seeing how the
beauteous Arabella would contrive to render herself a bright ex-
ample of persevering study, and, in short, altogether devoted to
literature ! "
8he had already seen her, upon one occasion, become so devoted
to art, that the Eoyal Academy was, for several months, the only
l)lace in London where real enjoyment could be tasted. At
another, her whole soul was, as she declared, absorbed in music.
At one time, she was so enthusiastic a Puseyite, that the majority
of her acquaintance did not scruple to declare that she had
evidently made up her mind to become a member of the churcli
of Pvome ; as she had, in fact, been heard to say, that Dr. P. had
216 GErvTEUDE; OE,
but one fault . . . ''he did not go far enough ! " Eut from this
peril of perversion, she had been saved by the excessively line
eyes of a young man who, as he said, gloried in confessing that-
he, at least, was not ashamed of avowing himself to be purely
evangelical.
The next aspirant for the 5»afely-funded eighty thousand, was
a man of fashion ; and while his reign lasted, all memory of the
banking concern was ungratefully forgotten, and the Peerage was
never, by any chance, permitted to be beyond reach of her
hand. ...
All these had, in their day, afforded infinite amusement to the
saucy young Lucy; and she now recollected, with great satis-
faction, that she had never as yet enjoyed the gratification of
seeing her beautiful sister devoted to literature.
^Notwithstanding her own very great felicity as a wife, and the
genuine pleasure she took in the society of her new friend Ger-
trude, she now became conscious that her happiness would very
decidedly be greater still, if she could but have the fun of watch-
ing one of Arabella's tender passions^ with her beloved Adolphe
at her side to enjoy the joke with her ! jN^ay, she was not with-
out hope that she might manage to inspire her dear, darling,
sober Gertrude, with a sufficient spirit of fun also, to make her
capable of enjoying the scenes she was quite sure she should bo
able to get up for her amusement. 'Nor did her plot end here ;
for being, in truth, despite a great deal of childish, mad-cap
nonsense, a kind-hearted little personage ; she bethought her that
she might really do a very good thing, if she could manage to
keep alive, this new passion of Arabella's long enough to bring it
to the old-fashioned conclusion of marriage.
She had not witnessed the great delight which Adolphe had
testified upon meeting again the only companion and friend to
whom he had ever strongly attached himself, without feeling
sufficiently interested about him to lead her to find out, as nearly
as might be, who, and what he was ; and this had, naturally
enough, led to the conviction, that it would be a monstrous good
thing for him if he could marry such a fortune as Arabella's 1 "
She only wondered she had never thought of it before IS'urse
Xorris had put it into her head ! Lut she supposed that her
dulness on the subject had been caused by tlie immistakablo in-
difference of the 5'oung man. . . . And this thought caused her
to pause, and think a little, if thought it might be called ; which
led her to decide at last, that the less Eupert liked Arabella, the
more fun there would in getting him to marry her ; and that as,
FAMILY rPJLE* 247
of course, Arabella must at last marry somebody or other, her
money could not be better disposed of, than in making Adolphe's
particular friend a rich man !
This last decisive thought being, decidedly, a very important
thought, was digested in silence ; that is to say, she clid not then
and there communicate to J^urse T^orris the conclusion at which
she had arrived ; but having, rather more quietly than usual,
awaited the skilful old woman's assurance, that her beautiful
head was quite perfect, she descended to the drawing-room with
the comfortable assurance that she might set to work upon her
scheme immediately, as the Schloss Schwanberg family were a
part of the company expected at dinner.
Fortunately for the gratification of Count Adolphe, and the
fair ladies he had attached to him, the Earon de Schwanberg had
not abandoned the idea that it was necessary, or, at least, highly
desirable, that he should be always attended by his suite; and
Kupert, therefore, as well as his mother, in her capacity of dame
de com2)((gnic, accompanied him on the present occasion.
The Countess Adolphe watched their entry with a sort of
sparkling satisfaction, which made her look extremely pretty ;
while her Venus-like sister, draped, as to the ivory shoulders, in
transparent lace, and eyes melting with a sort of dreamy softness,
that caused the wicked Lucy to rub her little hands with uncon-
trolable glee, seemed to see only one of the group which entered;
but that one received a smile which the Baroness Gertrude saw,
though it is highly probable that the baron's librarian did not.
CHAPTER XXXYIL
"Whatever varieties may be found in the social habits and
manners of the various di'awiug-rooms of Europe, there is at least
one hour in every day, during a portion of which it would be
dijficult to find any external variety at all.
When a mixed party are assembled in a drawing-room, await-
ing a summons to the dinner-table, I believe that it will invari-
ably be found that the gentlemen separate themselves from the
ladies, and stand chatting together in groups till the welcome
248 GEETnrDE; ok,
summons arrives whicli unites them together in pairs, in the order
that etiquette or inclination may dictate.
The party assembled at this hour in Count Steinfeld's drawing-
room, on the day that his son's bride had held at her toilet the
conversation with her attendant which was related in the last
chapter, consisted of about a score of persons, among whom were
the Baron von Schwanberg, his daughter, and suite.
The gentlemen of the party had grouped themselves at two of
the windows, for the pui-pose of chatting at their ease, and of
admii'ing the beautiful garden upon which the said windows
opened.
Gertrude, as usual, had placed herself beside the young
Countess Adolphe ; but did not, as usual, find her full of gay
spirits and laughing chit chat. On the contrary, she not only
seemed incapable of replying to what was said to her, but it
appeared very doubtful whether she had heard a single word
of it.
Puzzled to account for this unusual want of attention in her
new friend, Gertrude ceased to addi-ess her, and turned her atten-
tion to other individuals in the apartment.
It did not take her long to discover the cause of the volatile
Lucy's pre-occupation.
On the opposite side of the room to that now occupied by the
gentlemen, stood a richly- carpeted oval table, almost covered
with books and engTavings ; and around, or near this table, were
congregated the sofas and easy chairs on which the ladies were
seated.
One fair deserter from this group, had, for some reason or
other (perhaps to examine the dimensions of some particularly
fine tree), stationed herself in a graceful attitude of meditation at
one of the windows.
It required no second glance to show Gertrude that this solitary
fair one was Miss Morrison. There was, indeed, no chance that
any other could be mistaken for her ; for who else could have
found so beautiful an attitude in which to place themselves,
merely for the sake of looking out of a window ?
From the picturesque individual who had thus withdrawn from
the female group, Gertrude's eyes wandered back again to the
friend who sat beside her ; and then she discovered why it was
that Lucy had paid so very little attention to all she had said to
her.
Lucy's eyes were not so large, nor so meltingly soft as those
of her elder sister, but there was no want of speculation in those
FAMILY rrjDE. 219
laughing eyes' of hers; and a less intelligent observer than Ger-
trude, wonld have found no difnculty in discovering that their
merry mistress "was at that moment very particularly amused by
the discoveries they were making for her.
And then, of course, Gertrude's eyes took the same direction
as those of her friend ; and truly she found that there was where-
withal to be amused by what they looked upon.
The groups which occupied the window at which the beautiful
Arabella had stationed herself, consisted of Count Adolphe, his
friend Eupcrt, and two gentlemen of the neighbourhood, who
were discussing with them the details of a tremendous thunder-
storm which had occurred in a distant part of the country ; an
account of which had reached them by the newspapers of the
morning. Miss Morrison, of course, clasped her beautiful, un-
gloved hands, and she listened ; and every soft feature seemed to
express to the utmost extent of its power, both the agitation of
terror, and the sympathy of pity.
Her brother-in-law was the person standing next to her ; but
though she anxiously addressed repeated questions to him, re-
specting the melancholy particulars of the catastrophe, it was
evident that he was paying too earnest a degree of attention to
the gentleman who seemed to know most on the subject, to be
able to listen to her plaintive voice with the attention which it
of course deserved.
But this state of affairs did not last long. The gentle creature
was far too deeply interested by the melancholy catastrophe of
which they were speaking, to endure such heartless indifference ;
and therefore, crossing her ivory arms upon her bosom, and rais-
ing her eyes to Heaven, as an appeal either against the cruel
severity of the elements, or the hard indifference of her brother-
in-law, she glided across the window to the spot where Eupert
stood, and gently laying her fingers on the arm of the almost un-
conscious young librarian, she murmured her gentle inquiries ;
first, in French, which she spoke with an accent which renderecl
it pretty nearly intelligible, and then in English, which, as she
well knew, was his mother-ton crue.
" Tell me," said she, " for the love of Heaven, how much of
this terrible story is true ! I am not made to endure these
horrors with indifference ! Life lost ! Human life ! And so
utterly without preparation ! Oh tell me. Monsieur Eupert !
Tell me that it is not true ! "
To this pathetic appeal, the hard-hearted Eupert only replied
by the unfeeling words, *' I beg your pardon, madame, but I did
250 GERirxDE; oe, .^
not exactly hear wliat you said ; " and then, abruptly turniug to
the individual he had heen listening to, he appeared, and pro- j
bably really was, utterly forgetful of her presence. '
Gertrude watched all this, and smiled, for she could not help
it, at the minauderies of the beauty ; but as tricks such as she
was now displaying were with her of every-day recurrence, she
found nothing in them to account for Lucy's air of extreme
amusement.
" Yrhat is there, Lucy, in the dismal history they are giving
there, that makes you look so mischievously merry '? " said Ger-
trude, turning to her, after watching the group for a minute or
tvro.
" j\Iy dear, darling girl, you must be the very dullest soul
alive, if you find nothing to amuse you in what is going on
there ! . . . . But perhaps you do not Comprehend it, Gertrude?
Perhaps you never before saw a lady pay her addresses to a
gentleman? "
Gertrude coloured. She felt that she did comprehend it, and
would gladly have lost her usually delicate bloom for a month,
could she thereby have avoided betraying emotion at that
moment.
The Countess Adolphe looked at her archly, and laughed.
"You look absolutely shocked, my dear! It is rather a par-
ticular manner of making a conquest, but I am so used to it, that
I don't mind it at all. Arabella has not fallen in love for nearly
three months, I think, and upon my word, upon this occasion,
she has, in my opinion, chosen a charming subject ; for Mr.
Eupert is not only the handsomest man I ever saw (excepting
Adolphe, of course), but he must be a charming person, or he
could not be Adolphe's dear friend. And moreover, my dear
girl," continued the chattering little bride, " I shall really ap-
prove her marrying this young man excessively. Of course he
can't have much money of his own, or he would not be living
with your papa as his librarian ; and Arabella's eighty thousand
pounds sterling will be a very good catch for him, won't
it?"
The Bareness Gertrude, young as she still was, had been too
long accustomed to the necessity of maintaining an appearance of
composure, while every pulse was throbbing with painful emotion,
to betray the feelings which this startling speech occasioned;
and it was perhaps because she was accustomed to this painful
task, that she now performed it so well. She had neither re-
course to looking at the carpet, or at her fan ; but quietly turning
»S
PAMILT PEIDE. 251
lier eyes towards tlie group at tlic window, slie said, '' "What can
have put so strange an idea into your head, dear Lucy ? "
'' Exactly what must put it into your head too, my dear, if
you are not blind," replied the laughing bride.
'' You need not be afraid to look at her, Gertrude," she con-
tinued; "for when she is in this condition, she neither knows
nor cares who looks at her, nor what they may think of her pro-
ceedings. I certainly never did sec anybody quite like her, in
this respect ; but I suppose that is because it is so very seldom,
you know, that one does see a girl with eighty thousand
j)ounds sterling, entirely and altogether her own mistress. AVhy,
you know, if she chose to marry Mr. Rupert's servant, if he
happens to have one, there is no one in the wide world that could
prevent her. She knows this as well as I do, and that's the
reason that she seems to care so little what people may think of
her. As to Adolphe and me, I give you my word and honour,
Gertrude, that we would not take the trouble of walking across
the room to prevent her marrying a shoe-black, if she took it
into her head. "\Ye are quite rich enough, and I believe we shall,
both of us be monstrously glad when she takes herself off. xind
then, as to this young man, it would, of course, be a very
pleasant thing to dear Adolphe to see him so well provided
for. I really believe that he loves him as well as if he were his
own brother."
During this long speech, Gertrude remained with her eyes
pretty steadily fixed upon the speaker ; so steadily, indeed, that
Lucy at last exclaimed, "Why do you look at me, Gertrude?
You might have the fun of watching them, without losing a
word that I am saying. Do just look their way for one moment,
Gertrude. There is nothing ridiculous in him, I don't mean
that. He is looking as grave as a judge all the time. Eut it is
a perfect treat to watch Arabella ! Do you think, my dear, that
any woman ever did actually melt, and dissolve herself into a dew
by the mere influence of the tender passion ? Because if such a
catastrophe ever could happen, depend upon it, Gertrude, it is
going to happen now."
The Bareness Gertrude smiled, but it was a grave, proud sort
of smile, and by no means satisfied Lucy.
"Do you mean never to laugh again, that you miss so glorious
an opportunity? " said she, again fixing her eyes upon the group
at the window ; and then, as if words were inadequate to express
her enjoyment, she inflicted a merry pinch upon the arm of her
resolute quite neighbour, murmuring in her ear at the same time, |
252 Geeteude; oe,
*' Upon my honour, I think she will kiss him ! I do, npon my
word and honour, Gertrude ; and if you will not look at tliem
tliis moment, I don't think that I will ever speak to you again ! "
AVhat might have happened next, either to the ohservers or the
ohserved, had the dinner not been announced at that moment, it
is impossible to say ; but at this critical juncture the master of
the house stepped forward, and presenting his arm to the most
nobly allied married lady in the party, led the way to the dining-
room.
Gertrude was so placed at the long table, around which the
company were marshalled, that she could not see the pair who
had afforded her friend such exquisite amusement; she only
knew that they must be seated together, because she happened
to turn her head as she crossed the hall, and perceived that the
beautiful Arabella was hanging on the arm of llupert.
lint had she not seen this, she would have been aware of the
fact from the numerous glances east by the young Countess, who
sat opposite to her, towards the lower end at the same side at
W'hich Gertrude herself was seated. As each of these somewhat
indiscreetly long glances produced a smile on the saucy face of
Lucy, which she took no pains to conceal, there could be little
doubt that the manoeuvrings of her sister were proceeding in the
same style which had afibrded tier so much amusement in the
drawing-room.
But Gertrude had not so long endured the deep-seated per-
suasion that the affection which llupert felt for her was that of
a brother to his sister, — she had not so long meditated upon this
conviction with the unshrinking resolution of a stoic, without
having taught herself to expect that she should some time or
other have to watch his becoming enamoured of some other
woman. And now, it seemed that the time for this had come ;
and the desperate sort of courage with which she determined to
hear it fcell, might have gone far towards assisting a martyr at
the utmost need.
Had she yielded with a little more complaisance to the earnest
entreaties of her friend Lucy, during the discussion of the thunder-
storm at the window of the drawing-room, and watched the cold
indifference, or rather the utter unconsciousness with which
Eupert suffered the fair lady's glances and sighs to pass over him,
she might have spared herself a great deal of very unnecessary
suffering.
The evening of this day was, as usual, spent in music. Ger-
trude very rarely sang, and never in so large a party. The tone
FA3IILY PEIDE. 253
of her voice was delicioiisly swoct, but ^[adanie Odentlial was
the only one wlio was fully aware of this fact; for, conscious
that she had little power, and less science, the act of singing in
company was really painful to her; and with her usual quiet
perseverance in doing what she thought rational, she had
taught her friends and acquaintance to leave off asking her to
sing
l]ut she played well, and had of late found solitary practice a
great resource, as well as the means of great improvement. She
therefore no longer declined to play when invited to do so ; and
she was, perhaps, proud to feel, that upon the present occasion she
was as much mistress of her fingers, as if there Avere no such
person as Arabella Morrison in the world. It so happened, that
on the present occasion, one of Count Steinf eld's guests was a
young man of very prepossessing appearance, who was a stranger
in the neighbourhood, though his family were near neighbours to
the Count ; but the young Earon jS'orclorffe was an officer in the
Austrian service, and having been more with his family at Vienna
than in the country, was personally a stranger in the vicinity of
his father's country residence. This young man had been amus-
ing himself during the long interval passed at the dinner-table,
in comparing the beauty of the English Arabella, with that of
his countrywoman, Gertrude. They had both sat oj^posite to
him, so he enjoyed a favourable opportunity for the study of
both.
Under any and every imaginable circumstance, the marked
contrast between them must have been striking to every one, but
it was not well possible for this to have been displayed better
than on the present occasion. The flaxen-haired Arabella rarely
sat still for many seconds together. She had always too much to
do, to permit this. She had to arrange her curls ; she had to
show off her hands and arms ; she had to find or make opportu-
nities for displaying her teeth; and, what was much more
important than all the rest, she had to perform without ceasing,
all those wonderful evolutions Avith her ej'es, which she certainly
considered as the most important of all her social duties.
The young Baron Xordorffe certainly thought her wonderfully
beautiful, even before he found out that she was wonderfully
amusing also ; and for some time, he devoted to her pretty nearly
all the attention which a young gentleman who had taken a good
deal of attive morning exercise, could spare from his dinner.
An object in perpetual movement when full in sight of us, is
pretty sure to attract the eye ; but sometimes it will also happen
254 GEETErDE; OE,
that the eye fixes itself upon an object because it is perfectly at
rest ; and thus it was, that after the young Baron Xurdorffe had
amused himself for some time by the ceaseless mobility of
Arabella, he turned his eyes, as if for repose, on the quiet Ioto-
liness of Gertrude.
It was impossible, perhaps, that this laveliness could have been
displayed with greater effect than it then was, most unconsciously
to the pre-occupicd girl herself. The contrast was in every way
favourable to her ; for not only was her beauty of a higher order,
but the composure of her demeanour had as much of dignity as
indifference in it. A waiting-maid, or a milliner, might have
played all the tricks that Arabella was performing, without any
difiiculty whatever ; but it is only a gentlewoman who can be
sufficiently at ease in society to look as Gertrude did.
Earon Xordorffc was just then particularly unlikely to fall in
love, because his head, and his heart too, were very fully occupied
by a much more important affair. He had, in fact, very strong
liopes of being appointed aide-de-camp to an amiable and highly
fashionable general officer, and till this very interesting question
was settled, he could not occup}' himself seriously about anything
else ; nevertheless, he had certainly found considerable amuse-
ment from occasionally fixing his handsome eyes, first on the one
fair lady, and then on tlie other ; and, despite his preoccupation,
he was sufficiently interested by the appearance and manner of
Gertrude, to request his hostess to present him to her, when they
returned to the drawing-room.
Earon I^ordorffe, like the majority of his countrymen, was
really fond of music, and he knew enough about it too, to be
quite aAvare that the performance of the Baroness Gerti ade was
of no common order ; and even if he had not thought her the
handsomest woman in the room, he would probably have hovered
near her with the same marked attention till the party sepa-
rated.
His doing so produced, however, no veiy great impression upon
her of any tind. He was a gentlemanlike and conversable young
man, and she felt neither bored, nor even fatigued, by his talking
to her; for it was by no means part of her system to have
recourse to her own thoughts for amusement while in the company
of others.
"Whether on the present occasion these thoughts, less obedient
than usual, might have wandered a little from the lively metro-
politan gossip of her new acquaintance, to the information she
had received from Luc^ respecting the present tender passioa gf
FAMILY PEIDE. 255
her sister, it would be hardly fair to inquire. If it were so, she
gave no sympton that sneh thoughts had made any impression on
her, for she returned home at night apparently in the same
equable state of spirits as usual.
CHAPTEE XXXYIII.
But the events of the day had not passed over the mind of
Rupert so lightly.
As to the beauteous Arabella, however, it would have been
quite " all one that she should have loved some bright particular
star, and thought to wed it," as that she should hope to make
any impression upon the heart of the Earon von Schwanb erg's
librarian.
He certainly must have been rather a singular young man ; for
it is a positive fact, that neither upon this occasion nor upon any
other which had preceded it, had she made more impression upon
his heart, or even upon his memory, than her pet dog had done.
Had he been urged to give an opinion upon the merits of cither,
he could only have complied by making an effort to think more
on the subject than he had yet done ; and then, if he had
answered with perfect honesty, he must have replied that he
thouirht them both rather troublesome.
But although the unfortunate young man had forgotten all
about her eyes, and her arms, and all the rest of her numberless
claims to admiration, he had not forgotten any of the manoeuvres
of Baron Xordorffe, by which he had contrived to occupy the
attention of Gertrude during great part of the evening.
It would be an o'er long tale to tell how well the idle notion
of her inherited pride had served him as a shield against all her
beauty, all her sympathy of mind, and all her kindness to his
mother. But the ill-supported fabric fell at last ; and long, very
long before he was himself aware of his own condition, he loved
her with all the devotion of an ardent and powerfully developed
character.
If Gertrude on her side had loved him less, he would have
been more likely to discover that her feelings towards hiiu olfered
no absolutelj^ fatal barrier to his wishes,
256 geeteude; ob,
It was the consciousness of licr own unchangeable but unaskcd-
for love, which had made her so strongly feel the necessity of
reserve ; nay, of more than reserve.
She felt the necessity of adopting a line of conduct which
might not only prove her indifference to him, but give him reason
to suppose, that either from love of power, or an extreme fastidi-
ousness, she was extremely likely to remain unmarried.
As no hope of possessing her was ever permitted to cross his
fancy, the idea of her remaining single, was the most fortunate
for himself that could have entered his head ; for it fostered all
his habits of study, and often suggested the idea of their latter
years being still passed in a community of literary occupation,
Avhich would place him about mid-way between misery and
happiness.
It was in this state of mind that he went to Paris, and in this
state of mind he continued till the acceptance of the Count
Hernwold dispelled this (certainly) rather presumptuous hope.
Eut the mind of Eupert Odcnthal was not fitted to be the
receptacle of despair. He certainly abandoned this hope of
remaining the librarian of Schloss Schwanberg to his dying day ;
but, after meditating through a few sleepless nights, he at length
came to the conclusion that the approaching event would set his
spirit more completely at rest, and more perfectly free, than it
had ever been before ; and the idea of becoming a solitary, undis-
turbed, literary man, and so remaining to his dying day, began to
have charms for him.
At least he fancied so ; but, altogether, it must be confessed
that he occasionally felt a good deal like a man who had been
suffering from delirium ; and it was only when this doubtful,
dreamy sort of sensation left him, that he became conscious of
his still pitiable weakness. 'No sooner did this consciousness
return, than his efforts to emancipate himself returned likewise.
AYithout having any over-weening opinion of himself, he cer-
tainly felt that nature had designed him for something better
than a love-lorn, hopeless swain, whose existence was to wear
away in pining for a blessing that was beyond his reach.
*' There is so much," thought he, ''to which I may reasonably
aspire, that the fixing my wishes upon what I can never obtain,
would be acting considerably more like a spoiled child, than a
reasonable man."
And fortified by this admirable philosophy, he was enabled to
act, to speak, and even to look with such uniform forbearance
and propriety, that a much vainer woman than Gertrude might
FAMILY PRIDE. 257
have been led to the conclusion at which she had arrived respect-
ing his constant and unchangeable indifference towards her.
During the visit at Count Stcinfeld's, which has been described
in the last chapter, he had, however, the mortification of fearing
that he had not advanced so far towards real, genuine, and sincere
indifference, as he had flattered himself. He was provoked and
indignant at his own weakness, as he felt the hot blood mounting
to his temples, while he marked the evident admiration of the
young stranger, and on leaving his pillow on the following
morning, whereon he had not dreamed, but meditated, he
resolved, for the first time, to lead his mother into conversation
on the subject of Gertrude, both as concerned the marriage which
had been so abruptly broken off at Paris, and on the conquest
which she had, in his opinion, so evidently made on the preceding
evening.
Had Rupert been less uniformly successful in concealing from
his mother the secret which he still intended should lie for ever
buried in his heart, he would doubtless have found more difficulty
than he now experienced in leading her to talk, almost without
reserve, upon the subject.
So perfectly, indeed, was the good lady convinced that her son
had never for a moment forgotten the distance between himself
and the honoured heiress of his magnificent patron, that it had
positively never occurred to her as a thing possible that he should
love her, even as she too well knew the unfortunate heiress loved
him. Had it been otherwise, no consideration whatever would
have induced her to sufi'er their present manner of life to con-
tinue ; for Madame Odenthal had a sensitive, nay, almost a timid,
conscience ; and not even the belief that she might ensure the
life-long happiness of both, could have induced her to connive at
keeping together those whom the '^ Almanack de Gotha" so
evidently intended to keep asunder.
But her mind was perfectly at ease on this point. Both her
knowledge of Gertrude, and of her own woman's heart, taught
her to know that, as long as her son retained his indiff'erence,
there was no need for her to break up their comfortable establish-
ment, in order to preserve her pupil from the danger of an
unequal alliance. On the contrary, she thought, and certainly
not without some show of reason, that her attachment was much
more likely to wither quietly away, under the influence of
Kupert's blighting indifi'erence, than if he were separated from
her by any will but his own.
Supert, therefore, found his mother perfectly unprepared for
18
258 GERTurDE; oe,
the examination to which it was his purpose to submit her, and
her early entrance into the library, on the morning following the
dinner party which has been describedj afforded him an excellent
opportunity for the purpose.
Madame Odenthal had entered the room in search of a volume
which the young baroness had requested her to procure for her ;
and having impressed a loving mother's kiss on the forehead of
the young man as she passed him, was about to leave it, when he
recalled her, by saying, "Are you vanishing again, mother,
without bestowing a word upon me ? Come ! — sit down quietly
with me for five minutes, and tell me what you thought of the
party yesterday."
His mother immediately complied with the request, and placed
herself near him at his writing-table.
*' The party was a very nice party. Did you not think so ? "
said she, smiling. **I am sure it was not the fault of Miss
Morrison if you did not, for, most assuredly, Rupert, she looked
beautiful with all her might. Did you not think so ? "
" Certainly, I did," was his reply. '' Eut she always does that,
you know, so I am used to it, and quite hardened. But I saw,
also, what is not quite of such constant recurrence, namely, a
very evident approach to flirtation between your young baroness
and the newly-imported Earon JSTordorffe. I think you must have
observed it, mother, as well as myself. Did you not? "
''Ko, Rupert," she gently replied; *'I saw nothing of the
sort. Flirtation cannot be performed as a solo, you know ; and I
am sure I saw nothing like flirtation in the manner of the
Baroness Gertrude."
*'Nay, mother, I did not mean to accuse her of the slightest
impropriety," said he, gravely; "but if flirtation is not to be
named, I think you will not deny that the young man was very
evidently captivated ? "
"Why, really, I think it did look a little like it, Eupert," she
returned; "but Gertrude's manner is not calculated, I think, to
give strangers much encouragement."
"At any rate, mother, she evidently gave this new man as
much encouragement as was necessary," said Rupert, somewhat
sarcastically. " How much will you bet me, mother," he added,
"that the Baron Nordorffe does not propose for her before he
leaves the country ? "
" I shall think him a very presumptuous man if he does," was
her reply. " I know little or nothing about him ; but truly the
heiress of Schwanberg — and such an heiress, too— deserves to be
FAMILY PEIDE. 259
adored at a distance for at least a little while, before her fair self
and her broad lands are asked for."
"You are as jealous of her greatness, my dear mother, as her
father himself could be," replied Rupert, with a faint smile ;
"but, I presume," he added, "that you would be rather more
indulgent than the loving father himseK in such a matter as
this."
"You mean to insinuate, then, that Gertrude has sho'wn her-
self as inflammable on her side as the Earon iS'ordorffe on his ?
You are of opinion that the Baroness Gertrude is enamoured of
this new gentleman, are you ? "
" It may be so, mother," replied Eupert, looking earnestly at
her.
" This may be your judgment respecting her," replied Madame
Odenthal, gravely, "but it is not mine, Eupert."
" Do not be angry with me, dear mother ! " said he. " I did
not mean to say anything oifensive. Eut it certainly appeared
to me that she was by no means displeased by the attentions of
this young man."
"Displeased? And why should she be displeased, Eupert?
There was nothing offensive in her attentions."
"Evidently not," he replied. "But, nevertheless, it is very
possible that you may be right, mother," he added. " It is very
possible that, notwithstanding all that has passed, she may still
retain too tender a recollection of Count Hernwold, to permit her,
so very soon, to receive the addresses of another."
There was certainly something extremely far from amiable in
the tone with which these words were spoken, and good Madame
Odenthal was, perhaps, more seriously displeased with her son at
that moment than she had ever been with him before, since the
hour of his birth. The words were decidedly ungracious words,
and very unjust when applied to Gertrude.
" I have never considered it as a part of my duty, as the
salaried companion of the Baroness Gertrude, to explain to you,
Eupert, or to any one else, what I considered to be real motives,
and feelings, which induced her to receive the addresses of Count
Hernwold," she said, with more sternness of manner than was at
all n3ual with her : " nor shall I enter upon the subject now. I
certainly should have thought that the most indifferent observer
in the world, if gifted with common capacity, and ha-^dng known
her so long as you have done, might give her credit for better
reasons for accepting a man whose highest merit was having the
manners and appearance of a man of fashion, than, to use a
260 geeteude; oe,
vulgar phrase, haYing fallen hi love with him. It never occuiTed
to you, I suppose, that her earnest desire to gratify the wishes
of her father was the cause of this acceptance ? "
** Never! " replied Rupert, with emphasis.
For a moment Madame Odenthal was silent, but she looked at
him very earnestly, and with an expression that perplexed him,
for it spoke (unintentionally) surprise and curiosity, not wholly
unmixed with doubt.
She waited in vain, however, for any further reply to her
question, and, at length, said : '* Let us not waste our time,
Rupert, in idle speculations on the character of the Baroness
Gertrude, which it is very evident you do not sufficiently compre-
hend to discuss with firmness ; but I must confess that, great as
your dulness appears to be on the subject, I could not have
believed it possible that you should conceive her capable of re-
taining tender recollections of a man who has behaved to her father
in the way which you know Count Hernwold has done ? "
And having said this, she rose with rather a rapid movement,
and left the room.
Her son remained very deeply absorbed in rumination.
"What was there in that last glance which she cast upon him,
to cause so strange a revulsion of feeling ?
The countenance of Madame Odenthal was usually expressive
of great gentleness, and she rarely parted from him without a
kindly nod or smile, betokening affection. But now he could
only remember her parting look as expressive both of anger and
contempt.
He knew his mother well. He knew that no mere difference
of opinion could have caused her to bestow such a glance upon
him. He felt that he had been unjust to Gertrude. But his
mother's words had accused him of more than that; she had
spoken of dulness on his part, as well as of injustice.
But it would be easier to follow the movements of a vapoury
cloud, and attempt to explain why at one moment it took this
form, and at another that, than to attempt any intelligible de-
scription of the flitting thoughts, which passed across the brain
of Rupert, after his mother had closed the library door upon
him.
Perhaps it is impossible for any man to have been beloved as
he had been, without a thought at some moment occurring to
him, that was more or less tinctured with the truth. But, in
his case, the impediments to his dwelling upon any such thoughts
as deserving belief, were gi'eat indeed. The strong persuasion
FAMILY PEIDE. 261
which had possessed him for years, that Gertmde inherited the
absurd and very paltry pride of her father, had certainly gone
far towards preventing his knowing, or even guessing, her to be
the noble creature which she really was ; and when at last this
bltindering delusion passed away, and he saw her with less of
prejudice and more of truth, he had been struck with a feeling
that almost resembled terror, from the idea of returning all the
benefits he had received from his patron, by seeking to rob him
of the treasure which he prized so dearly.
It is true, that day by day, he felt more strongly that not to
love her was impossible ; and though this conviction involved the
necessity of his passing a life uncheered by hope and unblest by
affection, he screwed his courage very resolutely to the endurance
of it, cheered by the reflection that he might reasonably hope for
her companionship for years to come ; for he instinctively felt
that if her father's authority did not interfere to force her in-
clination, she was not likelj' to be easily won.
The announcement of her intended marriage when they were
at Paris, was certainly a tremendous shock to him, for he had
not expected it ; but this young and highly intellectual man had
not loved for a year or two under the firm conviction that he
loved in vain, without being in a great degree prepared to endure
such a shock, without sinking under it.
And Rupert did not sink. He turned to the resources and
consolations furnished by his own mind, and by the many oppor-
tunities afforded by his present position for enlarging his stores
of knowledge, and increasing the sphere of his intelligence.
Yet, nevertheless, as the preparations for the marriage of Ger-
trude proceeded, he felt conscious that it would be a great bless-
ing if he could be out of sight of them ; and, as we know, he
paid a timely visit to his uncle Alaric.
It is unnecessary to trace what his feelings might have been
upon learning the rupture of this marriage. JN^ot all his prudence
could prevent his hailing the return of the family to Schloss
Schwanberg as something very like a restoration to life ; and the
subsequent retm-n of his friend Adolphe (accompanied by his
wife), rendered the weeks which followed decidedly the happiest
he had ever known.
Far as he was from the truth respecting the real state of Ger-
trude's affections, there was something in the steady sedateness
Avith which she arranged and regulated her manner of life, which
not unnaturally suggested the idea that she meant it to continue.
Even the circumstance of her ceasing to make the library her
262 GEETErDE; OR,
morning sitting-room, and thereby leaving him in solitary posses-
sion of it, much as he would have wished to change this for the
habits of the good old times (when the bright and highly culti-
vated intelligence of his beloved patroness liad helped to pioneer
his own active mind through the labrynth of accumulated thought
which was ranged around them) ; yet he found much to soften
his regret at having lost this, in the idea naturally suggested by
Gertrude's punctual adherence to her new arrangement, which
led to the obvious conclusion, that what had so e^ddently been
planned with deliberation, was intended to be lasting.
That the young and lovely Baroness Gertrude von Schwanberg
should have deliberately taken the resolution of remaining single
through life, was an idea that had certainly a good deal of im-
probability in it, and Eupert would have acknowledged this as
readily as anyone ; but nevertheless there was a feeling, rather
than an opinion, which lay at the bottom of his heart, and which
whispered incessantly, that it was at least possible.
How much this soothing idea contributed to his enjoyment of
the life he was now leading, it might be difficult to say ; but it
had received a rude shock while watching the attentions of the
handsome and graceful Earon IS'ordorffe ; and the very decidedly
bad temper in which his mother had found him on the following
morning, was certainly attributed to this.
Eut she little guessed, good lady, how much more than suffi-
cient to cure this was the scolding which she had given him.
That one word didness, and the look which, quite unconsciously
on her part, accompanied it, had done more towards making him
feel it 2^ossihle that he was beloved, than all the years that had
passed over them, every day of which might have given ample
proof of the fact, had he but read them right.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
The evening of that day had been fixed upon by a noble lady
in the neighbourhood for giving — not a ball, that was quite out
of the question on so short a notice — but a dance, which she
assured the Steinfeld family was in honour of the beautiful Miss
Morrison ; but nevertheless it may be doubtful if it would have
FAMILY PRIDE. ^63
been given at all, had not the highly distinguished Baron jS'or-
dorife been in the country.
But whatever might be the lady's motive, the act was hailed
as a benefaction by the whole neighbonrhood.
By no one, however, was the invitation more joyfully wel-
comed than by Madame Adolphe de Steinfeld. *' ISTow, then,"
thought that lively lady, " I shall have the exceeding delight of
once more seeing Arabella waltz with the hero of the hour !
And if Gertrude is too well behaved to enjoy it with me, I will
give her up at once, and she shall never be my particular friend
again."
The day and the hour for this gaily anticipated amusement
arrived accordingly, and in order to ensure herself from the possi-
bility of disappointment, the laughter-loving Lucy commissioned
her husband to arrange the first dance according to her especial
will and pleasure. " Being a bride, I must, of course, dance
with the dashing young son and heir of the mansion ; and you,
Adolphe, being a bridegroom, must, of course, dance with the not
very beautiful eldest daughter. I am sorry for you, my dear,"
she added, coaxingly, ''but it cannot be helped. You may
have free choice afterwards. But you must observe," she con-
tinued, gravely, "that I make a particular point of Arabella's
dancing the first waltz with your friend Rupert. He is really a
most charming person, besides the being your most intimate
friend, and I like to show everybody that we all consider him as
a person of first-rate consequence."
"That is very sweet of you, my pretty Lucy; but are you
quite sure that your magnificent sister will approve your choice
for her?"
" Do not give yourself any anxiety on that point, my beloved,"
replied his wife. " I should be excessively stupid if I had not
found out by this time what my magnificent sister would approve,
and what she would not. I know her better than you do as yet,
Adolphe, dear, and I pledge you my word that she will not dis-
like dancing the fii'st waltz with your friend Eupert — nor the
last, either."
As the latter part of this speech was uttered very decidedly,
avec intention (if I may borrow an expressive phrase from our
faithful allies), it aroused a greater degree of attention on the
part of Adolphe, than he was always in the habit of paying to
the lively sallies of his pretty bride.
"What do you mean, Lucy?" said he, very eagerly; "do
you think your sister has fallen in love with Rupert Odenthal? "
264 gertevde; oe,
** Yes, husband," replied Lucy, yery demurely placing her
hands before her, with the air of a dutiful child who is about to
be questioned.
" You think your sister Arabella has fallen in love with the
baron's librarian ? "
" Yes, husband," repeated Lucy, with a modest little courtesy.
*' How can you talk such nonsense, my dear little angel!"
said the fond husband, caressing her. " We never talk of un-
married ladies falling in loTe in our country, unless the parties
are engaged to be manied."
'' That is a great deal better than our way," replied Lucy,
gravely; ''but with us," she added, "unmarried ladies very
often do fall in love, without being able to manage the marrying
part of the business at all to their satisfaction. But perhaps it is
possible that our sister Arabella may be more fortunate."
" Do you mean to say, Lucy, that you think my friend Rupert
is in love with your sister ? " said Adolphe, thoughtfully ; adding,
in a half whisper, "I don't."
" 'No more do I," rejoined Lucy, holding up her finger play-
fully, and mimicking his tone. " But a man may be heart-whole
one day, and in love the next ; you can't deny that, Adolphe.
]My sister is very handsome, my good man, whatever you may
think of the matter; and moreover, as I told you, my dear,
when, you offered to me, she has rather more than double my
fortune."
" Rupert will never marry for money, Lucy," replied Adolphe,
knitting his brow.
"Don't look so fierce, my dear," replied his wife, laughing.
" I really like Rupert excessively, and perhaps, though he is
only a librarian, I should think him too good for my ridiculous
sister. . . . Only, you know, Arabella is really very rich. She
would be a great match for him, in that point of view, and giddy
as you think me, I have always been taught to know, and re-
member, that as long as we remain in this wicked world, money
is, and ever must be, a very good thing."
Madame Adolphe von Steinfeld uttered these words so gravely,
as to make her husband laugh.
" You may laugh, Adolphe, as much as you like," she added;
"but you cannot deny the truth of what I say. But let us be
quite serious, both of us, for one minute. I am quite in earnest
when I say that I should be very glad to see my sister Arabella
marry Rupert Odenthal. Kow tell me, quite in earnest, too,
how you should like it ? "
FAMILY PEIDE. 265
Her husband did not immediately reply ; but after a silence,
during which his eyes were fixed on the floor, he said, " Your
question is not an easy one to answer, Lucy. Trust me, I love
you all the better for the feeling which would reconcile you to
becoming the sister of a man both poor and lowly born, because
he is my friend ; and it seems like an ungrateful return for this,
to say that I do not think your sister worthy of the happiness of
becoming Eupert's Avife."
'* ^ay, dearest ! Do not stand upon ceremony with me ! " re-
turned his gay little wife, bestowing a playful caress upon him.
" Perhaps you have found out, you sharp-witted creature, that I
have not the very highest possible opinion of Arabella myself.
But it is possible, you know, that the becoming Rupert's wife
may improve her. I have often thought that it would be a
monstrous good thing for her if she were married, because it
would be impossible for her to make such a fool of herself then as
she does now. But on the other hand, it is quite certain that
her money will remain the same ; and just think, Adolphe, what
is to become of your dear friend when the old baron dies ! . . . .
He cannot leave him that great grand room, and all the books in
it, by way of a legacy; and if he did, the poor dear fellow
would be obliged to sit and starve there, in the midst of them,
for I am sure he w^ould not sell one of the books to save his
life."
''Lucy!." replied her husband, rather solemnly, *'I think
Eupert Odenthal would rather starve, than marry a woman he
disliked."
" Disliked ! Oh, Adolphe ! AYhat strong words you do use ! "
exclaimed his wife. " I can't think how you can talk of disliking
such a beautiful creature as Arabella ! It is very natural that /
should not be very fond of Arabella, because she is so much older
than I am, and has always wanted to tyrannize over me ; but
that is no reason at all why such a young man as Rupert should
not both admire her beauty, and like her fortune."
"Perfectly true, my dear love," replied Adolphe, laughing;
'' and though I don't think I should like to propose the match to
him, I promise you to do nothing to impede it. Heaven knows
that if I did not think she would plague him, there is nothing I
should like so much as seeing him placed in the possession of an
independent fortune, and our both of us having, moreover, the
privilege of calling him brother."
^ *'AYell, now! that is beautifully said, Adolphe! " exclaimed
his wife, gaily. ''And I may trust you then, may I not? I
2G6 gelteijde; or,
may trust, I mean, that you "will say nothing to Hupcrt to set
him against her ? "
'' Certainly yon may," replied her hushand. *' Indeed, to say
the truth," he added, "I do not feel at all disposed to speak
otherwise than kindly of her; for if you are right, Lucy, in
believing that she wishes to marry my friend Kupert, it proves
her to he of a very noble and disinterested character, for she must
be quite aware what his position is."
" Oh, yes ! She is quite perfectly, and altogether aware, of
what his position is," returned Lucy. "And the only thing
necessary to render the marriage a happy one, is that Eupert too,
after they are married, should be equally well aware what her
position will be then. All wives, you know, my dear, are obliged
to do exactly what their husbands choose ; and as your friend
Eupert is a very sensible man, he will not choose that his wife
should behave like a fool ; and that will make a great improvement
in Arabella."
The conversation proceeded for some time longer, in a tone
which seemed to hover between jest and earnest; but it ended,
however, by Adolphe promising very seriously, that he would
neither do, nor say anything, to prejudice his friend against Miss
Morrison ; nor, in short, do anything which might, in any way,
impede the marriage which his wife so very greatly desired to
bring about.
And in truth. Count Adolphe himself, when left to take a
sober, solitaiy view of the affair, began to think that such a
marriage as Lucy contemplated for Rupert, was perhaps the only
means by which such a degree of independence could be secured
to him as might enable him, when his present patron was no
more, to indulge his studious habits, without running any risk of
being starved by doing so.
Matters were in this state when the promised dancing party
took place ; and the whole neighbourhood, not a very large one,
seemed assembled together with the pre-determination of being
superlatively gay and happy.
The venerable Baron von Schwanberg did not always think it
necessary to attend his daughter to the parties assembled for the
express purpose of dancing ; considering her dame de comimgnie a
sufficient chaperon, and his librarian and private secretary a
sufficient ^uiU. But upon this particular occasion, he proclaimed
Ms intention of accompanying her party, stating his reason for
doing so, to be his wish to sec the beautiful English heiress, Miss
Morrison, performing the national dance.
FAMILY TEIDE. 267
This exceedingly flattering compliment was felt as he intended
it should be by the beauty, who prepared herself accordingly to
be more captivating than ever.
It is possible, indeed, that the extreme care bestowed upon
every part of her attire, might have had its origin in the silence
of Pvupert, rather than in the eloquence of his patron. In fact,
Arabella began to feel a good deal surprised, and a little alarmed,
at the no progress she had made in her resolutely-purposed con-
quest of Eupert : it was really the first time in her life that she
had ever encountered so much difficulty in achieving this object ;
for her beauty was precisely of the kind to produce a suddeiz
fever of admiration, while her demeanour was precisely of the
kind to encourage the most frank declaration of it.
It is likely enough, however, notwithstanding the intrinsic
value of her fair hand, that many who had scrupled not to avow
their adoration of her beauty, might have scrupled about giving
their name in exchange for her wealth, even if her unbridled
covetousness for new conquests had not led her to leave the
victims _ she had subdued, for the sake of pursuing others who
were still unscathed.
There could be no doubt, however, that during the last ten
years she might have been married, at least, as many times, if
such had been her will ; but hitherto she had evidently preferred
hitting her game, to taking possession of it.
^ IJpon the present occasion, however, her feelings were wholly
different ; whether this difference arose from her having really re-
ceived a deeper impression than she had ever felt before, or merely
from the eagerness occasioned by the difficulty of obtaining her
object, may be doubted. There might, perhaps, be a mixture of
both ; and moreover, it is by no means impossible that her having
listened to a conversation between the young ladies, in which one
was almost convulsed with laughter herself, while reducing the
other to the same extremity, by relating how she had positively
heard an old maid talking of women who were at least five-and-
tweyity, and calling them girls !
To an unmarried beauty of twenty-eight, there was a mixture
of something terrific in this jest; and it might certainly have
some effect in producing the resolution which she speedily came
to, of marrying Eupert, as well as falling in love with him.
She was not insensible to the fact, that Eupert had not as yet
followed the example of all the other men on whom she had be-
stowed an equal degree of encouragement ; that is to say, he had
not declared himself her adorer.
268 geeteule; oe,
The anger which might have been created by this, was effec-
tively checked by the persuasion, that his silence was occasioned
by timidity, and not by indifference ; and under the influence of
this persuasion, she very deliberately made up her mind to let
him understand that, in her estimation, love should for ever be
"lord of all;" and that her beautifully fair hand, with her
eighty thousand pounds sterling in it, were at his service.
CHAPTER XL.
If any kind dickey-bird, or prophetic mesmerising friend, had
whispered in Eupert's ear, as he took his accustomed place, as
suite, in the carriage which was to convey him to the promised
waltzing party, ' ' that a beautiful lady would very nearly make
him an offer of marriage before he returned home," he would
probably have been seized with such a fit of the tooth-ache, as
might have sufliced to excuse his bolting out of the carriage, and
hiding himself in his bed-room. But as no such miracle was
performed in his favour, he drove on, poor, unconscious youth,
and made his entree very nearly at the same time as his self-
destined bride. The scene was a very gay one, and as bright and
beautiful as pretty women, flowering shrubs, and abundance of
wax-lights could make it.
Adolphe had not forgotten the promise he had given his wife
respecting the arrangements for the first waltz ; and it was,
therefore, as the partner of the Baron von Schwanberg's librarian,
that the beautiful Arabella prepared to exhibit her unequalled
loveliness, and her peculiarly bewitching style of dancing.
It was a searching glance that Eupert sent round the circle as
he stood up with her. This glance was not in the hope of finding
anything he wished to see, but precisely the contrary ; and
though carefully searching, it was perfectly satisfactory, for no
Baron de IS'ordorfte was there. Poor Eupert was perhaps hardly
conscious himself of the effect which this discovery produced on
his spirits, but for the moment it was positively favourable to
Arabella, for it caused him to dance with a much greater degree
of animation than was usual to him.
Arabella was aware of the animation, but altogether mistook
FAMILY PEIBE. 269
the cause ; and before the dance ended she had succeeded in fully
persuading herself that all the coldness she had hitherto perceived
in him, had arisen solely from his timidity, and the painful con-
sciousness which accompanied it, that the librarian of Schloss
Schwanberg must not lift his eyes with the audacity of love to
the beautiful possessor of eighty thousand pounds sterling.
There are, doubtless, to be found, in these rapidly improving
latter days, a multitude of highly-educated young ladies, who,
although conscious that their respective papas have acquired
colossal fortunes by a traffic in money, or money's worth, are yet
aware that not quite every young man who dances with them,
would be delighted to marry them, if he could.
But our Arabella Morrison was not one of these. Her father
had spent his entire life in successful industry, and being by
nature of a confiding domestic temperament, he had been in the
constant habit of indulging himself, when in the bosom of his
family, with a good deal of comfortable, confidential boasting, all
tending to show, and to prove, that money formed not only the
sinews of war, but of everything else in civilised human society
. . . that the man, or woman, who possessed it might, if they
knew how to use it, possess anything, and everything, they
wished for, from one end of the earth to the other . . . and that
only those who had it not, were in any danger of finding them-
selves obliged to sacrifice their own inclinations to those of other
people.
" I could find in my heart something like pity," he was wont
to say, "for any poor devils who had got into mischief by reason
of their poverty ; but I have no pity whatever for rich folks, who
don't know the value of what they have got." The ideas thus
impressed upon the minds of his daughters concerning the
importance of the wealth which it was in his power and purpose
to bestow on them, was, doubtless, influential in forming the
characters of both, but in a very unequal degree.
Her own beauty, and her own fortune, filled the mind of the
eldest too completely to leave room for any feelings not connected
either with one or the other. But it was not so with the young
Lucy. She was light-hearted and afi'ectionate ; and although her
own large fortune, and her sister's still larger one, were oftener
in her thoughts than might have been the case had she been
accustomed to a higher class of ideas as the theme of daily
domestic talk, she had still enough of unspoiled native material
about her to love what was good, and hate what was bad, with-
out any reference to her own particular interest.
270 GEExnrDE; oe,
It was this feeling which led her to wish very seriously, in the
midst of all her fun and frolic, that Rupert might, in sober
earnest, become the lover of her wealthy sister ; and her inherited
and habitual faith in the influence of wealth, led her to believe
that there could be no difficulty whatever in bringing this about,
provided the young man was made aware that the hand of her
sister was really attainable.
Arabella, meanwhile, on her side was, at least, equally confi-
dent that either her beauty, or her wealth, was sufficient to make
him her slave (or, in vulgar parlance, her husband), and that
nothing but his respect for her superior station was likely to
impede his throwing himself at her feet.
AVhile the thoughts of the two English sisters were thus
generously engrossed by this very obscure young man, he was,
at the bottom of his ungrateful heart, as unmindful of them
both, as if they had been a pair of pretty goldfinches, imported
by his friend Adolphe, as specimens.
As such, however, he treated them both with the sort of
consideration and attention which he would have bestowed on
anything considered as valuable or interesting by this much-loved
friend. But beyond this he certainly never bestowed a thought
upon them ; and upon this particular occasion, while one of these
fair importations was bringing every faculty, and almost eveiy
muscle, into action in the hope of enchanting him, and the other
generously working her active little brain to discover the best
way of bringing a marriage between her wealthy sister, and his
penniless self to a happy conclusion (before the fair Arabella
changed her mind), he forgot as nearly as it was possible for him
to do, that they existed.
It is true, indeed, that he danced with them both, but he
danced with Gertrude likewise ; and though there was certainly
no perceptible change in her gentle, equable manner to him, he
felt, from some cause or other, which it would be difficult very
clearly to define, that he had never enjoyed a ball so much in his
Hfe.
The unhoped-for absence of the young Baron ISTordorfi'e might
have had something to do with it, or it might be that his recent
conversation with his mother had made him conscious that he
had indeed been unjust to Gertrude ; and he was now, perhaps,
feeling happy, because his heart told him that he was unjust to
her no longer.
In truth, as he looked at her beautiful face, and read there the
noble calmness, the thoughtful intelligence, and the gentle con-
FAMILY PrJDE. 271
tent, which it expressed, he felt that, in the words which he had
spoken to his mother respecting her, he had, indeed, done her
great injustice.
Nothing makes people so gracious and so agreeable as the
sensation of ha^^pincss; and so gracious and so agreeable had
llupert been, that, far from feeling in despair, the beautiful
Arabella laid her head that night upon her pillow, with the
delightful conviction that the handsomest man her eyes had ever
looked upon, only wanted a little more encouragement to throw
himself at her feet.
And before she closed her eyes in sleep, she very solemnly told
herself that he should have whatever degree of encouragement
might be still required to bring him there, ^"hatever deficiency
she had seen in his apparent admiration of her universally
acknowledged beauty, she attributed with great satisfaction, and
the most undoubting confidence, to the awe naturally inspired in
his mind, by the inequality of their stations in life.
"Had he dared to make me an offer of marriage this evening,
I should most assuredly have refused him." . . . Thus ran her
mental soliloquy ; "for it would have been a presumption unpar-
donable, even in him, unequalled as he is ! ISTothing — no —
nothing but the most frank and generous encouragement on my
part could justify such audacity on his. I am thankful that he
has not been guilty of this ; for I must, in justice to my ovm
elevated position, have refused him, if he had done so, devotedly
as I am attached to him. Xoble-looking, graceful, enchanting
Eupert ! I have often fancied myself in love, but I never knew
what love really is, till now ! And shall I, then, refuse to make
both him and myself happy for life, merely because circumstances
oblige me to speak first, instead of him ? Young as I still am, I
have lived long enough to know the symptoms of love when I see
them. ISTo man's eyes ever sparkled and danced in his head as
those of Eupert did to-night, without his being in love ! Luckily
for me, and my adored Eupert, there is no living soul in the
whole wide world who has either the right or the power to con-
trol me ! Our love shall be as faithful as it is fervent, for never
can he, nor will he, forget the generosity which makes me
indifferent to his total want of fortune ; nor can I ever hope, or
expect, or even wish, to see any other man looking so gloriously
handsome as he did to-night ! "
Such were the last waking thoughts of the beautiful Arabella
on her return from the ball, which, in a greater or less degree,
had proved so very agreeable to some others of the party ; nor
272 GERTRUDE; OR,
were her waking thouglits on the following morning at all less
passionately tender, or less deToteclly generous.
She had found the means of making herself a very decided
ftivourite with the Baron von Sehwanberg, probably because she
had acted by him as her piinciples taught her to act by every
created man. Xone were too young — none were too old — to be
captivated ; and the Baron von Sehwanberg, like a great many
other old gentlemen with whom she had made acquaintance, was
ready to declare that she was by far the most charming young
lady he had ever known.
And she, on her side, declared herself on this occasion, as on
many former ones, to be very proud of the admiration which old
gentlemen in general expressed for her ; for it proved clearly, she
said, that she had a gi-eat and praiseworthy respect for old age.
Her saucy sister, indeed, puzzled her a little one day by asking
her, when she was boasting of this amiable feeling, why old
ladies did not seem to like her as much as old gentlemen ?
It was from the stately Baron von Sehwanberg himseK that
the invitation proceeded which led to the engagement, the
remembrance of which so delightfully cheered the waking
thoughts of Arabella. He had himself invited her and her
sister to accompany Adolphe to the castle on that day, and
to dine with them sans ceremonie. The two young men (Adolphe
and llupert) having previously made an arrangement to ride
together to a little town at the distance of a dozen miles, where
Rupert had some commission to execute for his patron.
The invitation had been as cordially accepted as it was given,
and the enamoured beauty had decided upon a plan before she
closed her eyes in sleep, by which she flattered herself she should
at once bring afl'airs to the happy crisis at which she was impa-
tient to see them arrive.
CHAPTER XLI.
Count Adolphe escorted the carriage which conveyed the fair
sisters to Schloss Sehwanberg, and then proceeded with his friend
upon their proposed expedition.
Having paid their smiling compliments to the gracious baron,
FAMILY PEIDE. 273
the ladies repaired with Gertrude to the library, where a portfolio
of new caricatures, just arrived from Paris, promised to afford
them considerable amusement.
Arabella beguiled an hour or so in laughing over these pictorial
epigrams, in running her dainty fingers over the keys of the
pianoforte, and then in looking at the backs of sundry volumes
with as scrutinizing a glance as if she really wanted to ascertain
their contents.
Having performed this ceremony, which she very cleverly felt
to be appropriate to the place she was in, she suddenly exclaimed,
*' "Where is your dear father, Gertrude ? "
*' In the breakfast-parlour, I believe," replied Gertrude. " The
newspaper is always. taken to him there."
"Then it is there I will go to look for him," returned the
beauty. " Perhaps he would like to play a game of backgammon ?
I should be delighted to play with him ! "
"Shall I take you to him?" returned the well-pleased Ger-
trude, whose rapid thoughts immediately suggested the possibility
of reading something aloud to Lucy, instead of passing the whole
morning in being jocular.
Miss Morrison immediately passed her arm under that of her
young hostess, in token of assent ; and in this manner they
walked together to the breakfast-room, where they found the
baron installed in his own particular chair, and with the news-
paper on a small table before him ; but it was very decidedly
evident that his propensities at that moment were more in favour
of dozing than reading.
After a most gracious salutation of welcome on the part of the
old gentleman, which was quite affectionately received on the
part of the young lady, the amiable backgammon proposal was
made, and accepted with the best possible grace on both sides.
The board was sought, found, and arranged by Gertrude, and then
the stately Baron von Schwanberg and the lovely Arabella Morri-
son were left tete-d-tete.
The lady, certainly, did not apj^ear to know much about the
game — but this was of no great consequence ; she blundered, and
laughed, and looked beautiful ; while he corrected, and smiled^
and looked benignant.
But when this had gone on for one game, and the baron was
arranging the board for another, Arabella suddenly extended her
hand, and laying it gently on his, to stop his proceedings, she
said, with her very sweetest smile, and in her very sweetest
accents, " My dear, dear Baron von Schwanberg, tell me candidly
19
274 GEETPirDEJ OE,
— have I deceived myself in thinking that you feel kindly to-
wards me ? If I have, tell me so candidly ; but if I have not, I
will open my whole heart to you, and ask your opinion, and per-
haps your assistance, in an affair upon which the happiness of
my future life entii'ely depends."
The old gentleman answered, as it is to he hoped the majority
of old gentlemen would do, under similar circumstances, that
there was nothing which would give him greater pleasure than
the being able to promote her happiness in any way.
*' I was sure that I could not be deceived in you, my dear Sir,"
returned the beautiful young lady, with her eyes imploringly
fixed on his ; ''I was sure that in addressing myself to you, I
should find as much kindness of heart as nobleness of feeling .
But before I proceed to the matter in which- I am bold enough
to hope for your assistance, it is necessary that I should explain
to you what my situation in life really is. I am not, like your
charming daughter, my. dear Sir — I am not nobly born."
This was a fact which the baron was already perfectly aware ;
but as his very sincere admiration of her did not in any degree
rest upon the antiquity of her race, or even upon the rank of her
parentage, he was able to assure her, with the most perfect sin-
cerity, that she need feel no scruple in avowing this, for that the
really affectionate feelings with which he was disposed to regard
her were produced by her own personal merits alone, and could
be in no way affected by her pedigree.
She seized one of his hands in both hers, and having pressed
it affectionately, ventured to impress a kiss upon it.
*' "What is there, my dear young lady, that I can do to assist
you?" said the gentlemanlike old man, feeling a little embar-
rassed.
*' I am older than my sister, my dear baron, and yet, as you are
aware, I am still unmarried," said Arabella, with a gentle smile.
*' Yes, my beautiful Miss Arabella, I am aware of it," returned
the baron ; '' and as you have mentioned the subject yourself, I
will confess to you that it has been a matter of great surpiise to
me."
"When you have known me longer, my dear Sir, your sur-
prise will be less ; for you will find that it is not in my nature
to form hasty attachments, or to be very easily pleased. Quite
the contrary, indeed. Few young ladies, I believe, have received
as many offers of marriage as I have done. Eut I think that one
reason why I am still single, is that I am aware that my fortune
is so unusually large that there may be some danger of my falling
FAiuiir riiiDE. 275
into the hands of a mere foitime-huntG!\ which I assure you, my
dear baron, is no small class in our country."
" Indeed, I have heard so, my dear," replied the baron ; " and
a young lady cannot be too much commended for being on
her guard against so contemptible and unprincipled a set of
"wretches."
** Indeed, I have always said so; and I am sui'e I would a
gi-eat deal rather die without being married at all, than bestow
my wealth upon any such person," returned Arabella, with a
look of consummate discretion.
''Eut yet, my dear Sir," she continued, ''now that my
younger sister is married, I begin to feel that I want a home of
my own ; and though nothing can be more kind and obliging
than Count Adolphe, I cannot help feeHng that there is some-
thing quite ridiculous in a young lady possessed of a fortune of
eighty thousand pounds sterling, having no home of her own."
" You are certainly right, my dear," replied the baron, after a
pause of some considerable duration, during which his mind was
occupied by an attempt to calculate what the yearly amount
of income produced by eighty thousand pounds sterling might
be ; but this was beyond him. Had he asked his fair companion
to solve the problem, she would have done it as correctly as if,
instead of being a banker's daughter, she had been a banker
herself.
"You are certainly right," he repeated, after this pause;
" and any thing which it is in my power to do towards making
so desirable an arrangement, you may most freely command."
^ Arabella thanked him by bestowing another gentle kiss upon
his noble hand, not aware that what she intended as a mark of
tender and familiar affection, he would interpret as a symptom
of profound respect, arising from the imposing difference between
her pedigree and his own.
^ Of such a misconstruction, however, she had not the least sus-
picion, and had even thrown somewhat of condescension into the
expression of her charming eyes, to prevent the poor dear old
gentleman from thinking he was a bore.
But this little bit of bye-play being performed, she determined
to trifle no longer, but to get over the ground, which, even in
her eyes, had some awkward points, as rapidly as possible.
"After what I have already said," she resumed, "you will
probably not be greatly surprised to hear that my choice is already
made."
Had not the young lady kissed his hand after the manner and
19—2
276 GERTRUDE; OR,
fashion of his domestic servants, both male and female, the Baron
von Schwanberg might at this moment have experienced a pain-
ful feeling of alarm, lest his own name should be pronounced by
the fair islander's rosy lips ; her beautiful and very graceful re-
spect for him had, however, been too decidedly demonstrated to
justify such fear, and he, therefore, ventured to encourage her by
saying, '' Go on, my dear! Be very sure that you will find an
indulgent listener in me."
Thus encouraged, the beautiful Arabella clasped her hands to-
gether, and then raising them as if to hide her blushing face, she
murmured the name of " Rupert Odenthal! "
For a few seconds the baron sat silently looking at her ; and
she began to feel that he was too much shocked by the inequality
of rank between herself and the Apollo of his library, to listen
to her favourably, notwithstanding all the coaxing she had
bestowed upon him.
But this painful state of mind did not last long. A very few
minutes had sufficed to suggest to the baron the cause and source
of the fascination which had made a beautiful young lady pos-
sessed of eighty thousand pounds sterling, fall in love with his
librarian.
It was not very often that the intellectual workings of the
baron's brain were of so active a nature as to break forth in
soliloquy, but such was the case on the present occasion, for
though his eyes were fixed on his fair companion as he spoke, it
was with himself he held parley, and not with her.
"Most extraordinary! Most extraordinary indeed !" he ex-
claimed. " Gertrude will comprehend the whole affair in a
moment ! " Arabella was a good deal bewildered, and a good
deal disturbed, by this allusion to the young baroness.
Why should she be able to comprehend the whole affair more
than anyone else ? Though they were apparently on very friendly
terms together, she very particularly disliked Gertrude ; and she
was, perhaps, the very last person in the world to whom she
would have wished any reference to be made on the subject of
her oAvn attachment.
Under the influence of these feelings, she exclaimed, *' Oh
goodness, Sir ! Do not say anything about it to your daughter."
The French of Arabella was sufficiently intelligible, though
her accent was not very pure ; and the baron was at no loss to
perceive that the idea of letting Gertrude into her confidence was
by no means agreeable to her.
*' You mistake me, my dear young lady!" said, he, very
FA^JILT PEIDE. 277
gi'acioiTsly. '' Of course, I should never think of communicating
to anybody, what you have confidentially confided to me. My
allusion to my daughter, had reference to a totally difi'erent sub-
ject. Yet, nevertheless, it is a subject which must naturally be
interesting to you, and I will explain the matter to you as shortly
as I can, my dear young lady. This fortunate and very exoellent
young man, whom your admirable judgment has led you to dis-
tinguish in so generous and flattering a manner, was really little
more than a peasant boy, before accident introduced him to my
notice, in a manner which induced me to permit his introduction
into my family in the capacity in which you now see him. But
it was not to that introduction, but to its efi'ect upon him, to
which I alluded, when I pronounced the word extraordinary/. I
really find nothing, in all my experience, more extraordinary
than the efi'ect which his daily association with me has had upon
him, and, indeed, upon his excellent mother likewise. This
efi'ect was first made evident to me, Miss Arabella, by the sort of
notice which was taken of them both, by all the most dis-
tinguished members of the society to which they were introduced,
when I attached them to me as a part of my suite. At first, the
tone of equality upon which they appeared to be received, sui'-
prised me a good deal ; but after my daughter, the Baroness Ger-
trude, and myself took the trouble of examining the real state of
the case, it soon became very clearly evident to us both, that the
station which it has pleased Providence I should hold in society,
is one of sufficient dignity and importance to enable me to elevate
those whom I permit to associate with me, and that I am, in
like manner as my sovereign is in a still higher degree, the source
of honour to those around me."
Ha^dng said this in the most meek and modest tone possible,
and with the aspect of humble piety with which pre-eminently
religious people express their submission to Providence when
specially exerted for themselves, the baron fixed his eyes upon
the ground, and remained silent, as if in the holy recimllement of
thanksgiving.
During this picturesque interval, Arabella remained silent also,
for she was puzzled.
Had the baron hinted that he paid to Eupert and his mother
such an annual income as enabled them to live *' like gentlefolks,''^
she would have understood him considerably better, and have
thought that the statement accounted very satisfactorily for the
position which they appeared to hold; but having given a
moment, in vain, to the finding out what he meant, she gave up
278 GEETErcE; oe,
the attempt, and the next words she uttered were, " "Well, then,
my dear Sir, you will be kind enough, will you, as you have
been so much like a father to the young man, to continue in the
same friendly way with him still, and make him understand, in
the manner that these sort of things are managed here, that in
addition to all the other favours you have conferred upon him,
you have found him a wife with a fortune of eighty thousand
pounds sterling ? "
In justice to the intellect, of Miss Arabella Morrison, it must
be confessed that no young lady upon her travels could have
turned the information she acquired respecting men and mannerA
more practically to account, than she did upon the present oc-
casion. Ha^dng been very gravely assured that it was the con-
tinental fashion for the friends of the parties concerned to arrange
all marriages, without any apparent interference whatever on the
part of the lady (all love-making between people of fashion being
performed afterwards), she certainly showed very considerable
cleverness in having recourse to the baron, whose interference,
she thought, would give both dignity and authority to the pro-
posal.
As to the result of the negotiation, no thought in the slightest
degree approaching to doubt annoyed her for a moment. She
had been so long accustomed to hear herself called an angel, that
she very sincerely took it for gi'anted that she must be very like
one ; and when it is remembered that, in addition to this, she
was cheered by the ever-present recollection of her eighty
thousand pounds sterling, it may easily be believed that she
contemplated the happiest termination to this well- arranged
affair.
The shy reserve which she could not but perceive in the
manner of Eupert, she attributed wholly to his humility ; and
she very delicately stated this to her venerable confidant, adding,
with a bewitching smile, that she trusted to his influence for the
remedy to this.
'' And your trust shall not be in vain, my dear Miss Arabella,"
he replied. ** "We should both of us have reason to be much less
satisfied with the young man than we are at present, if his con-
duct had been at all different. When I have spoken to him in
the manner which I am now authorised to do, you may be very
sure my dear, that this painful reserve will vanish."
*' Yes, I hope it will ! " she replied, with a degree of iia'ivete,
which must have produced a smile on any face less sublimely
solemn than that of the Baron von Schwanberg.
As it was, however, the important interyiov/ proceeded without
any such indecorum, and before they parted, it was settled be-
tween them, that the young man shoukl receive an intimation of
the happiness which awaited him on the following day. *' And
after this intimation has reached him," added the old gentleman,
W'ith a very gallant bow, " my office will be over, and the happy
young man, as we may easily believe, will become his own
advocate."
"Yes, I hope so!" again murmured Arabella; and then the
backgammon-board was restored to its place, and the beautiful
Arabella returned to the library.
CHAPTER XLII.
On the following morning the baron condescendingly laid his
hand on the arm of his secretary, as he was about to leave the
breakfast-room. " I have something to communicate to you, my
young friend," said he, in his most gracious manner, " so you
must leave my books to take care of themselves for a little while.
Reseat yourself, Rupert, reseat yourself."
Rupert obeyed. " I think you cannot doubt, my good Rupert,"
resumed the stately old man, " that I take a very great, I may
say a very affectionate interest in everything which concerns
you."
Rupert bowed with an air of deep respect, and replied, " In-
deed, Sir, I believe it."
" Then you will believe also, my good friend, that it is with
great pleasure I announce to you a piece of good fortune which
almost any young man might welcome with joy, and which you,
iny good Rupert, cannot fail to receive not only with joy, but
with the deepest gratitude. I am commissioned by an individual,
against whose wishes in the business there can be no appeal, to
inform you, that the fair hand of Miss Arabella Morrison, to-
gether with her vast fortune of eighty thousand pounds sterling,
are blessings not beyond your reach, however much they may
have been hitherto beyond your hopes."
The complexion of Rupert became crimson, which caused the
bftron to ^milp and ijod npTirovirifily.
280 GEETrtUDE; oe,
a
Yon are overpowered, my good lad ! and it is very natural
tliat you should be so. Jjut you must recover yourself. I shall
not have executed the commission with which I have been in-
trusted in a satisfactory manner, if I can only report as the result
of it, that you coloured Aiolently, and looked very greatly em-
barrassed."
This was said with a smile, and, considering the solemn dig-
nity of the features which produced it, a gay smile. But no
answering smile greeted him. Poor Kupert was not only embar-
rassed, but deeply pained. He fancied that he understood the
Avhole business completely, and that the extremely unwelcome
intimation he had now received had come from his friend
Adolphe.
The fact that the friends had never discussed together either
the good or the bad qualities of the lady, rendered this less im-
probable than it would have been, if either of them had freely
expressed his opinion of her to the other.
Her beauty and her wealth were obvious facts and obvious
advantages ; and even in the first very painful moment of em-
barrassment, and almost of dismay, occasioned by the baron's
communication, E,upcrt felt a movement of affection towards his
strongly-suspected friend, as he remembered that it was probably
the wish of being brought into closer connection with him, which
had led to this deplorable blunder.
His reply, however, being evidently waited for with impatience,
must be given immediately ; and making a strong effort to re-
cover the composure which had been so painfully shaken, he
said, " I trust, my lord baron, that the sincerity with which it
is my duty to answer this proposal will not displease you ; but
not even the fear of doing so must deter me from saying at once,
and most decidedly, that the lady in question has not inspired
me with any feeling which could lead me to make her my wife."
If the unlucky Rupert had studied for a month in order to find
the mode of expression likely to be most offensive to his patron,
he could not have produced a more vehement feeling of indig-
nation.
The old gentleman was for a moment absolutely breathless ;
but no sooner had he recovered the power of speech, than he
poured fortli an absolute torrent of mingled contempt and anger.
The situation of the young man was at once too ridiculous and
too painful to be endured ; and accustomed, as for many years
he had been, to the pompous assumption of superiority which
formed the staple commodity of all the baron's harangues, he waa
FAMILY PEIDE. 281
too mucli chafed and vexed at that moment to endure it ; and
exclaiming, in an accent of more suffering than ceremony, " Ex-
cuse me, Sir, excuse me ! " he left the room.
That the old gentleman's predominating feeling at the moment
Avas that of anger agaiust his unlucky secretary, is certain ; but
as he set himself to reflect upon the next step he had to make in
the performance of the extremely disagreeable commission he had
undertaken, the idea of having to announce to his petted favourite,
the beautiful Arabella, that the offer of her lovely self, and her
eighty thousand pounds sterling, had been refused by his penniless
secretary in the most decided manner possible, perfectly over-
whelmed him. How could he do it ? how was he to pronounce
the words necessary to convey this insulting truth ? He ! he
who had never uttered an uncivil word to any lady in his life !
It is highly probable that in the course of this long life he had
never had so harassing an affair to discuss with a lady before in
any way ; and the more he thought of it, the more intolerably
disagreeable it became.
At length his spirits sunk so completely under the idea of
what was before him, that he suddenly resolved to escape it,
by commissioning his daughter to perform the task for him. He
felt, indeed, that there certainly were some objections to thrusting
his daughter into the secret confidence of the beautiful Arabella
(especially as that young lady had particularly objected to any-
thing of the kind) ; but every consideration gave way before the
dreadful idea of having to face the beautiful Miss Arabella under
such circumstances ; and having finally made up his mind that
Gertrude was really and truly the most proper person to perform
this terrible ofice — because Gertrude always did know how to do
everything a great deal better than anybody else — he set off to
look for her in the library, fully determined that if he did not
find her there, he would follow her into her own room, or even
into that of Madame Odenthal, rather than not relieve himself of
the heavy burthen which so grievously tormented him.
Fortunately, however, Gertrude was in the library, and so was
Madame Odenthal likewise. The reason for this departure from
her recently-arranged manner of passing her mornings was, that
she was expecting the arrival of Lucy ; it having been agreed
between them when they parted the preceding night, that she
should retuim in the morning, for the purpose of finishing the
perusal of a newly-arrived English novel that they had been
reading aloud to each other.
Pvupert also was in the room. On leaving the presence of the
282 GErtTETJDE; OE,
angry baix)n, he had naturally betaken himself to his usual resort,
and had already seated himself in his accustomed nook in the
recess of a large how- window, before he became aware that Ger-
trude and his mother were in the room. They had recently
parted at the breakfast-table, and no salutation was exchanged
between them, save a slight bow ; but as the new arrangement
respecting the solitary occupation of the room by Rupert had
been only tacitly established, they neither of them thought it
necessary to retreat, and each of the trio very quietly addressed
themselves to their respective occupations.
But this delusive tranquillity was of very shoii; endurance ;
for scarcely had they all placed themselves in the position they
intended to occupy, than the door of the room was thrown open
with considerable violence, and the Earon von Schwanberg
entered.
Gertnide looked up, and greeted him with a smile ; Madame
Odenthal respectfully bowed her head ; but Rupert rose from his
seat, and seemed uncertain whether to stay or go.
*'Soh! you have taken refuge here, have you? Base, un-
grateful boy ! But I think that you will not dare to tell this
young lady of your most insolent and infamous conduct ! "
Such were the words with which the furious old gentleman
assailed the startled ears of his daughter, her greatly shocked
dame de comjjagnie, and the very indignant, but at the same time
very miserable, Rupert.
Gertrude was the only one of the trio who appeared to retain
the faculty of speech ; but she felt extremely indignant as well
as astonished, and with a degi'ee of spirit which she might not
have displayed if she had herself been the person who had
offended, she rose, and with a rapid step approaching her father,
she laid her hand upon his arm, and said, " My dear father, you
are usiug language which I am quite sure you will be sorry for
when- you recover your composuiT. Though I know nothing as
to the cause of this vehement agitation, I will venture to say
that you are in some way or other mistaken. Rupert Odenthal
cannot possibly have deserved the words you have addressed to
him. He is neither base nor ungi-ateful."
*' IN'ot base ! not ungrateful ! " returned the baron, vehemently.
** I have the very highest opinion of your judgment. Baroness
Gertrude, but even you cannot form any accurate judgment con-
cerning circumstances of which you are ignorant. Listen to
what I have to tell you, Gertrude, and then you will find that
upon this occasion, as iipon every other, our opiuiongi and IcyiiD^rs^
FAMILY PRIDE. 283
arc exactly the same. I pity his rcry worthy and unhappy mother
with all my heart ; hut nevertheless, she must submit to hear
what it is absolutely necessary she should know, because I am
not without hope that she may be able to make this very in-
solent young man repent, and reform his conduct."
This long speech, which was delivered with as much solemnity
as indignation, was followed by a short pause, more solemn still ;
and then raising his right hand, and pointing with its fore-iinger
to the desperately embarrassed Eupert, the baron thus resumed :
*' That young man, Gertrude, has this day received the noblest
proof of generous and devoted attachment that ever was bestowed
upon a man. And how, think you, he has requited this ? It
has been requited by the deepest ingratitude, and the most bitter
insult ! But it is not by merely saying this, Gertrude, that I
can give you a full and true idea of what his conduct has
been .... it is absolutely necessary that I should state the
particulars. This very presumptuous and most ungrateful young
man has had the insolence to refuse the hand of that very beautiful
and amiable young lady, the sister of the Countess Adolphe
Steinfeld."
" Depend upon it, my lord baron," interposed Madame Oden-
thal, eagerly, " there has been some mistake, — some foolish joke,
perhaps. I am quite sure. Sir, that nothing approaching such a
subject has ever passed between them."
The baron turned towards her with a grim smile and mocking
bow. " I should have thought that you must have known me
long enough by this time, Madame Odenthal, to be aware that I
never mistake," he said. " In the present case, the proof that I
have not committed the very vulgar offence of blundering, is
sufficiently clear, I presume, to satisfy even you. The amiable,
lovely, and most generous young lady who has been thus un-
worthily treated by your ungrateful, and, I must say, very in-
solent son, has herself confided to me the secret of her noble and
most generous affection for him. I presume you will confess
there can be no mistake, when I tell you that she commissioned
me to give your son the (doubtless unhoped-for) intelligence that
she was willing to bestow upon him her hand in marriage. And
what think you, madam, was the reply I received from your
penniless son to this offer of a lovely bride, with a fortune of
eighty thousand pounds sterling ? The offer, too, being conveyed
by ME. The answer, madam, was distinctly this ; that he declined
the inopoml. You still look incredulous, Madame Odenthal.
Let me refer you then to the insolent young man himself."
284 geeteude; oe,
As lie uttcrecl these last words, the baron waved his hand
majestically towards the offender, and then dropped into a chair
with an air of mingled contempt and indignation.
AYhy, or how, it came to jmss that the eyes of E-npert and
Gertrude met at that critical moment, for the first time since this
extraordinary scene began, it is difficult to say. So it was, how-
ever ; and thereupon the words of Claudio may be aptly quoted.
He was quite right when he said, " Let every eye negotiate for
itself, and trust no agent."
It might have been long, yea, very long, before the well-
guarded secret of their respective hearts had been guessed at by
either, had it not been for the gleam of light which seemed to
fiash at that moment both from, and to, the eyes of both.
CHAPTER XLIII.
Gerteude had changed colour so vehemently, and at the last
change had become so suddenly pale, that the watchful Madame
Odenthal became seriously alarmed for her ; and with less of
ceremony than she generally used when the baron was present,
she left her j^lace, threw a sustaining arm round Gertrude, and
led her from the room.
" You see, young man, the light in which your conduct is con-
sidered by my daughter," said the baron, solemnly ; " it is
evident that she is shocked, very deeply shocked, by your con-
duct. Let me hope that the high respect which I cannot doubt
you feel for her, will induce you to conduct yourself in this
matter with more propriety than you seemed disposed to do when
you first answered me."
Eupert, who, in fact, scarcely heard what he said, replied
by bowing his head, and mechanically saying, " Yes, Sir."
" Very well, that is just as it ought to be, Rupert," returned
the baron, very greatly relieved. " In the present state of
affairs, by far the best arrangement will be, that you and your
good and very condescending friend, Count Adolphe, should talk
the matter over between you. Perhaps, my good Rupert, I was
more displeased with you than you deserved, for it has just oc-
curred to me, as very probable, that you might have thought
FAJIILY PRIDE. 285
your acceptance of this generous yonng lady's proposal might
have been displeasing to me, as tending to lessen the distance
which ought for ever to remain impassable between persons in
different stations of life ; and I will not deny, that if such be the
case, you ought, by no means, to be too severely blamed for your
refusal. In short, Eupert, it strikes me that it will, for very
many reasons, be much better than you should talk over this
affair confidentially with your good friend, Count Adolphe, than
that I should interfere any further in the business. And it may
be as well, my good lad, that you should hint to him that I shall
greatly prefer his speaking to his sister-in-law on the subject, to
my interfering any further with so very delicate an affair."
How much of this speech was either heard or understood by
Eupert, it might be difficult to say ; for again his only reply was,
''Yes, Sir."
But this answer, such as it was, appeared perfectly to satisfy
his patron, who, no longer under the influence of the beautiful
Ai'abella's winning ways, began to see, in the very decided, not
to say vehement, repugnance of Eupert to the proposal made him,
more of prudence than he had himself manifested on the subject ;
for no sooner had he named the young Count as the most proper
negotiator in the affair, than the idea that such a marriage must
be extremely disagreeable to him, and to his noble family, oc-
curred to him ; so that on leaving the library (which he had
entered with the decided intention of turning Eupert out of the
house) he felt more disposed to favour him than ever, from the
conviction, that his dread of offending him by for a moment
forgetting his own inferiority, had been the real cause of his
refusal.
And Eupert, too, if his thoughts could truly be described as
being occupied by anything but Gertrude, was meditating an im-
mediate interview with Adolphe. As to the beautiful Arabella,
he certainly gave her credit for every possible degree of absurdity,
and of fancying that she was in love with him, and he in love
with her, among the rest. But such thoughts occupied him
scarcely for an instant, nor did he deem it possible that the notion
of a marriage between them had originated with her, and it was
to Adolphe to whom he attributed this preposterous scheme.
He knew, and he knew with sincere pleasure, that this true
and faithful friend was more than satisfied ; he knew that he
was happy in the choice he had made of the pretty, sweet-
tempered Lucy ; but he knew also that Adolphe' s attachment to
himself had never changed from the fii^st hour of their boyish
286 geeteude; oe,
compauionsliip to the present time, and he could, therefore, easily
understand the possibility of his wishing for such a family con-
nection between them as might, in a great degree, insure theipj
never being long asunder.
Yet still it was difficult for him to comprehend how it was]
possible that Adolphe could so little appreciate his real character,
as to believe him capable of uniting himself for life with such a
woman as Arabella Morrison. But, notwithstanding this puzzling
incongruity, it was upon Adolphe that his suspicion rested, and
it was to Adolphe that he determined to address himself, for the
purpose of being extricated from this very ridiculous dilemma.
jSTo sooner, therefore, did he cease to hear the departing foot-
steps of his massive patron, than he rushed from the library to
the stables, and startled the tranquil steadiness of the Geraian
grooms, by his vehement demand for '' a horse ! a horse ! " with-
out a moment's delay.
Eupert was well beloved, and his vehemence was only gi-eeted
by a smile, while as little delay as possible was permitted to
occur before he was in the saddle and galloping rapidly towards
the friend whom he intended so very heartily to scold.
All this was business-lilie and rational ; yet, nevertheless,
although he set his horse's head in the right direction, and took
care to keep it so, his own head was unceasingly running back
to Gertrude, and to the strange and inexplicable expression of
her face at the moment their eyes met.
But it was in vain that he meditated upon it — and in vain
that he strove to forget it ; so that the business, by no means
very pleasant in itself, upon which his rapid movements proved
him to be so earnestly bent, was literally half-forgotten before
he reached the presence of his friend.
Luckily for the dispatch of this very important business, how-
ever, he found Count Adolphe alone, in the snug little room
which was appropriated to the especial use of himself, his books,
his cigar, and occasionally of his little wife also.
" Welcome, dear Eupert ! " said Adolphe, cordially, and with
an extended hand.
Eupert looked at him for a moment without accepting this
ever- cordial hand.
He seized upon it at last, however, and grasping it in his own,
he exclaimed :
' ' Adolphe ! I thought my heart was as open to you as this kind
hand has ever been to me. . . . But it is not so, it seems, for
you have most lamentably mistaken me ! "
FAIIILY PEIDE. 287
''As how, my dear fellow?" replied the Count, looking ex-
ceedingly puzzled. " I should be sorry to have mistaken you,
Ilupert," he continued, "because it is a positive fact, that 1
think so highly of you as to make it impossible I should change
my opinion, without your losing something in my esteem. I
hope it will not be much, Kupcrt ! Eut go on and state the
case. In what have I mistaken you ? "
Rupert looked earnestly at him for a moment, as if to discover
if there were any jest afoot ; a solution which would not much
have mended the matter, considering that his august patron, the
baron, was one of the parties concerned in it.
* ' Speak ! Explain yourself, Eupert 1 ' ' again exclaimed Adolphe,
impatiently.
"How is it possible, Adolphe," replied Eupert, gently, but^
very gravely, " how can it have been possible that you, who
know me so well, should so greatly have mistaken me ? "
"In what have I mistaken you, my good friend," returned
the Count Adolphe, with a good-humoui^d smile. " I declare to
you, that, with the exception of your mother, I think I am less
likely to mistake you than any living mortal,"
" And I should have thought so too," said Eupert, shaking his
head, "if I had not just had such very painful proof of the con-
trary. How could you for a single moment persuade yourself
that I could be tempted by my poverty to become the husband
of Miss Morrison ? "
"But you give me credit for having much greater power of
persuasion over myself than I really possess," returned Adolphe,
laughing. "I should as soon have thought," he added, "of
persuading myself to marry her, instead of Lucy, for the sake of
her extra thousands sterling."
" Then this preposterous idea had not its origin with you ? "
said Eupert, extending a hand of reconciliation towards his
friend.
" It is a proof that I am of a very forgiving nature," returned
Adolphe, as he gave the offered hand a friendly grasp ; " that I
should so readily, and without any explanation too, accept this
repentant fist of yours. Eut even now, I feel a good deal dis-
posed to make a quarrel of it. How dare you, young Sir, accuse
me in your heart of such a vast amount of witless wickedness, as
would be required in order to conceive such an idea? "
"Forgive me, Adolphe I I feel that you really have some-
thing to forgive," returned Eupert. "I ought not, even for a
moment, to have believed it possible. And yet, when I was told
288 geeteude; or,
that such a marriage had been suggested, and had been consented
to by the young lady in question, how could I help falling into
this error ? No one knoAvs so well as yourself my dependent
condition, Adolphe ; and I certainly believe that there is no one
who would be more glad to change it, if it were possible. But I
certainly was greatly annoyed when I fancied that you had hit
u2:)on such a means for achieving it."
' ' "Well, Eupert, I forgive you, which goes further to prove my
excessive amiability, than your innocence. I wonder now," he
continued, laughing, " whether you would have galloped over in
the same state of furious indignation in order to quarrel with my
wife, if you had happened to find out that within the last twenty-
four hours she has actually been committing the sin for which
vou have been accusing me ? "
"Do you mean. Count Adolphe," returned Eupert, looking
greatly distressed, "that your charming wife was the person
who wished to bring about a marriage between her sister and
myself?"
" "Whether she ever wished this or not, I will not pretend to
say. She likes you very much, and might, perhaps, have been
vastly well pleased to have had you for a brother ; but if any
such ridiculous project ever entered her head, she had not courage
sufficient to mention it to me. jSTo. Her active imagination has
been employing itself in another direction. But for anything I
know, my dear Eupert, this may put you in as furious a rage as
the other ; for I well remember the time when you declared that
a middle-aged matron on one side, and a young rustic, with a
pitcher on her head, on the other, were both, or either of them,
infinitely more attractive than the lady in question."
It really seemed as if this day had been set apart in the
calendar, as the epoch at which poor Eupert Odenthal's equa-
nimity was to be tried in almost every possible manner.
The words so lightly spoken by his friend, produced a degree
of agitation both in heart and head, which it reauired a verv
strong effort to conceal ; but the effort was made, and not in vain.
"Where fortitude and self-command are imperatively called for,
from such a man as Eupert Odenthal, they are rarely found
wanting.
" May I ask you to explain yourself?" said Eupert, quietly.
" Yes, you may," replied his friend, with the same tone of
unsuspicious gaiety with which he had began the subject ; " and
I will answer you, too, if you will promise not to shoot me, by
way of punishing the impertinence of my wife ; f^bs actually
FAMILY PKTDE. 289
offered me a bet the other day, with very long odds in my favour
too, that you would be married to the Baroness Gertrude von
Schwanberg before two years were over. Before I took the bet,
however, I was generous enough to tell her that she was taking
a leap in the dark, and that I was not ; for that I happened to
know, from the very best possible authority, that the Baroness
Gertrude's style of beauty did not please your fancy."
'' Such an assurance must have been sufficient, I should think,
to convince the fair lady that she was wrong," replied Rupert,
with a very masterly command of voice.
" Not a bit! " returned Adolphe, laughing ; " my wife is the
most resolute little creature I ever knew. Her only answer was,
' AVill you take the bet, Adolphe ? Ten English sovereigns
against ten German thalers.' Excessively obstinate of the little
creature, was it not ? "
" The Countess Adolphe looks upon sovereigns as we do
upon counters," replied Eupert, with a somewhat unmeaning
smile.
''No! that is not the right explanation, Rupert. English
ladies, both young and old, know the value of sovereigns per-
fectly well. But the best part of the joke is, that with all the
confidence she expresses about winning her bet, she declares that
the love is altogether on the lady's side, and that, as yet, you are
perfectly heart-whole. But she is, in truth, a most enthusiastic
admirer of the Countess Gertrude, ten times more so than ever I
was in my tenderest days, before I was choked with the Gotha
Almanack ; and she predicts that, despite the nymph of the
fountain, and the middle-aged lady before mentioned, your hard
heart will be melted at last, and that you will return her tender
passion."
The very respectable degree of composure with which this
prophecy was listened to, did Rupert Odenthal great credit ; the
only symptom he gave of not being in a state of perfect self-
possession, was his attempting to take his leave immediately,
without saying another word concerning the important business
which had brought him there. Eortunately, however, Count
Adolphe was less thoughtless.
" Do not go, Rupert ! " said he, laughingly detaining him by
the arm; "for pity's sake don't leave me without giving me
some few instructions as to what is to be done or said to
Arabella If I comprehend your modest hints aright, you
have received from, by, or with the consent of my rich, fair, and
rare, sister-in-law, an intimation that if you are in love with her,
20
290 • gektexide; oe,
you will find no reason either to hang or drown yoiu'self. Is
this, in sober earnest, the fact ? "
" Unless the baron has mistaken her," replied Rupert (looking
a good deal provoked at having such an avowal to make), " such
is the case."
*' And what answer to this delicate intimation do you mean to
return ? "
*'I wish," replied Eupcrt, very coaxingly, " that the answer
could be given in the shape of advice from her friends, without
letting her know that I had ever been made acquainted with her
generous condescension."
" Excellent ! " cried the greatly-amused Adolphe ; *' and may
I ask which of her friends you would select to perform this
pleasant office ? "
" Of course I cannot presume to give such a commission to any
one," replied Rupert; "for as the person whom she selected as
her ambassador evidently intends to have no more to do with her,
there is no one from whom I have any right to ask such a service.
But if Madame la Comtessa "
"What! My poor dear little wife?" exclaimed Adolphe.
"Have you really the cruelty to inflict such a task upon
her ? . . . . Why, it must be in revenge, I think, for her
having hinted the disagreeable surmise about the Baroness
Gertrude, which I mentioned to you just now. Fie, Rupert !
Fie ! "
The two young men stood looking at each other for a minute
or two, with aspects as strongly contrasted as those of Tragedy
and Comedy ; till at length,* the good-natured Adolphe took pity
upon his really embarrassed friend, and said, " I cannot look
quite so grave as you do about it, my dear Rupert, but the silly
girl must be answered in some way. She has a faith absolutely
fanatic in the power of her own beauty, and her own wealth ;
and I do verily believe that she thinks, in all sincerity, that any
man, and every man, would be delighted to marry her, if he
could. But, in this particular instance, I have no doubt that
still another cause has helped to make a fool of her, and that she
has taken this most absurd step in consequence of a conversation
which took place among us the other day, respecting the difterent
customs which prevail in different countries as to the mode of
marrying, and giving in marriage. I observed at the time, that
she listened very attentively to my father's statement concerning
the manner in which the friends of the parties negotiate the
affair for them ; and you may depend upon it, that she thought,
FAillLY PPJDE. 291
by employing the superb baron, she was commencing a negoti-
ation in the most dignified and approved style possible."
**Veiy likely," replied Eiipert, looking very little comforted
by this suggestion ; " but it really seems to me as if the baron
thought so too."
" And if he does, I think you must get the Earoness Gertrude
to talk to him," returned Adolphe. '' Her influence over him,
you knoTT, is unbounded," he continued; "and if my sharp-
witted little wife is right in the notion I have just mentioned to
you respecting her, she will be sure of finding some way or other
of convincing her noble papa that he must himself j)ut an. ex-
tinguisher on the tender passion of my admirable sister-in-
law."
The kind-hearted Adolphe was one of the last men in the world
to say, or to do, what might have given pain to any one ; and
so sincerely was he attached to Eupert, that he would willingly
have endured much pain himself, rather than inflict it on him.
Eut the impression which had been made upon him by the former
declaration of his friend, " that he saw no great charm in Ger-
trude," was still so fresh in his memory, that it never occurred
to him as a thing possible that he could have changed his mind
upon the subject. Xor did any such possibility occur to him
now. He only saw, in the heightened colour and agitated ex-
pression of Eupert's countenance that he was harassed and ill at
ease ; and seeing him suddenly preparing to depart, he said, "If
you don't wish to see me quarrel outright with this absurd
Arabella, you must snap yoiu' fingers at her, Eupert, instead of
looking so profoundly miserable. Set your heart at rest, however,
as to her doing anything further to annoy you. I did but jest
when I exclaimed so loudly against Lucy's having anything to say
to her on the subject. Depend upon it, that if we confide to her
the task of informing your fair innamorata that her scheme has
not answered, it will cause nothing but mirth to Lucy, and a
good deal of impotent rage, perhaps, on the part of Arabella. So
set your heart at rest, dear Eupert ! If she is likely to be
troublesome to any of ns, Lucy shall give her a hint that there is
some one dying for love of her, either in Paris, or London, or
Jerusalem, and she will immediately discover that the climate of
Germany does not agree with her."
It was but a languid sort of smile that poor Eupert bestowed
upon his friend in return for the pleasant hopes of a speedy re-
lease from the beauty which he thus bestowed upon him ; yet,
such as they were, they, nevertheless, proved quite sufficient to
20— a
292 GERTRUDE; OR,
chase all annoyauce on that score from his memory. It was not
upon Arabella Morrison that his thoughts were fixed as he slowly
rode hack to Schloss Schwanhcrg.
CHAPTEH XLIV.
Had the climate in which the said Schloss Schwanherg was
situated been suddenly changed either into that of Asia or of
Siberia, the effect of the alteration, both upon Eupert and upon
Gertrude, would have been very much less than that produced
by the sort of glimmering light which the circumstances just
related had caused to shine on both of them.
So much has already been said explanatory of what their re-
spective feelings really were, that there is no need of repeating
it here ; and presuming the reader to understand perfectly that
they were very devotedly attached to each other, despite the
many very strong reasons existing to make such a state of things
extremely inconvenient, all that is left for their historian to
detail, is the result to which this strangely-assorted attachment
eventually led.
It was pretty nearly impossible that such a woman as Madame
Odenthal, deficient neither in natural acuteness nor natural affec-
tion, could long continue unaware of the complete revolution
which had taken place in the state of mind, and, as it seemed,
in the character of her son.
Little as she could ever have wished (reasonable and well-
principled as she was) that the hardly-tried yet still-devoted love
of the high-born heiress should end in a mutual attachment, it
would have been unnatural, not to say impossible, for her not
to feel pleasure in witnessing the obvious happiness which had
quietly taken the place of the uncomplaining but melancholy re-
signation of Gertrude ; while Rupert seemed suddenly endowed
with a brilliancy of talent and an energy of character which she
had never witnessed in him before, but which it was difficult to
witness now without pleasure.
Yet these powerful though often -fluctuating feelings were en-
tirely confined to her own bosom. The young people had already
given sufficient proof of firmness of character, to convince her
FAMILY PETDE. 290
that no lecturing of hers could have any effect beyond that of
paining them ; and, therefore, after very deliberate consideration
of the subject, she determined to let matters take their course ;
and, to all outward appearance, the relative position of the
parties continued to be exactly the same as it ever had been.
Nevertheless, Gertrude had the very great satisfaction of un-
derstanding, from a multitude of seemingly trifling circumstances,
that this dearly-beloved second mother was aware of the improve-
ment which had taken place in the mental condition of her son.
He was, in fact, no longer like the same being ; and yet it was
only to this mother and Gertrude that his change "was perceptible.
To the baron he was, as he always had been, observant, yet
unobtrusive ; not appearing under embarrassment or restraint of
any kind, yet never passing or forgetting the distance which the
difference in rank placed between them.
That the baron, therefore, never found out that he was asso-
ciating with an individual whom he had never known before, is
not extraordinary ; but such was, in truth, the case.
jS'ot even to each other, however, did Eupert and Gertrude
fully open their hearts upon the subject of the future. They
scrupled not to deprecate the reserve which had thrown, for
years, so deep a gloom over the hearts of both ; but not even in
the unbounded confidence to which such retrospection necessa-
rily led, did they either of them venture to prophecy of the
future.
The reason for this was obvious. As long as the baron lived,
the idea of an union between them seemed about equally impos-
sible to both ; for Gertrude felt it to be impossible that she should
cause her father such pain as this alliance would produce ; while
Rupert felt it to be equally impossible that he should urge her to
do what it was evident her conscience pronounced to be wrong.
Eut the axiom of our French friends has all the truth of
philosophy in it — everything is comparative ; and in comparison
to the state of mind in which Eupert and Gertrude had passed
the last three years of their young lives, their present condition
was one of great — of very great happiness.
The comic little embarrassment which the tender passion of the
beautiful Arabella occasioned to the ungrateful Eupert, was not
permitted to have any very great or lasting effect on this new-
born happiness; but as the good feelings of Adolphe were soon
awakened, notwithstanding the ceaseless jestings of his wife, to
the consciousness that they were doing wrong in permitting her
to persevere in her absurdity, , he contrived, as gently as he could,
294 ceeteude; on,
to make her understand that Enpert Tras not at all a marrying
man.
On his first nsing this strictly English phrase in speaking of
him, Arabella looked at him with great contempt, and replied,
*'I don't think, Mr. Count, that you know much about the
matter."
*'At any rate, my dear Arabella," he replied, '* I think I must
know more about him than you can do .... I have known
him far more years than you have known him months, my
dear."
'' That is very possible," she replied ; " but I am a woman, and
you are only a man ; and everybody allows, you know, that we
women understand all about the heart, a great deal better than
you men do."
"And what do you think that you have found out respecting
the heart of Eupert Odenthal?" returned her brother-in-law.
" You have no right to ask me any such question," she replied,
with great dignity, adding with another toss of her handsome
head; ''and I thank Gocl that there is nobody living who has
such a right. However," she continued, "I have no sort of
objection to answering you, and I think that I have found out
that he would have no sort of objection to marrying me."
Count Adolphe felt that this sort of light skirmishing would
not effect the purpose he had in view, and, therefore, he very
courageously ventm^ed to say, ''My dear Arabella, I think it is
my duty to tell you that you are mistaken."
8he coloured violently, but remained silent for a minute or
two, and then said, "On whose authority, Sir, do you tell me
this?"
" It is the opinion of the Baron von Schwanberg, Arabella, and,
therefore it is mine .... for he is a great deal too wise a man
to be mistaken."
This very judicious answer seemed to have great effect, for shd
now remained silent for a much longer interval. In fact, she
had been waiting with some anxiety for a message from her aged
and noble confidant, and not receiving any, concluded, that, from
some accident or other, the grand old gentleman had been too
constantly engaged to see her in private.
Upon hearing her brother-in-law thus gravely assert, however,
that this said grand old gentleman did not believe his librarian
was inclined to marry her, every feeling of her heart was con-
verted into absolute hatred towards the despicable individual, who
might be the happiest of men, if he were not an idiot.
FAMILY PEIDE. 295
Could she have had the power of condemning this offending
individual to immediate destruction, it is extremely likely that,
in the frame of mind which she was in at that moment, she would
have done it; but as, fortunately, this power was wantiog, she
sought the relief of solitude, and having reached her own apart-
ment, she locked herseK into it as carefully as if she expected to
he besieged.
She had not, however, enjoyed this uninterrupted solitude long,
before she had very resolutely determined the plan of conduct she
should piu'sue.
It did not take her long to decide, that the low-born Eupert,
notwithstanding his stately figure, and his handsome face, was
neither more nor less than a clown and a fool; and as such, she
threw all remembrance of him to the winds.
In fact, as she very vehemently told herself, he was not worth
a thought, and she would not give him one. Eut her ''little
vixen of a sister" was not to escape so easily. Arabella felt
strongly persuaded that she, and her Dutch husband (as she con-
stantly called Adolphe when she was angry with him), had been
in some way or other the cause of her noble and most generous
feelings ha\ing been so basely requited ; and it took her but a
very short time to decide upon the mode of vengeance she would
adopt, in order to be revenged.
''They think," she muttered, "that because I am still un-
married, I am in want of them, and their precious protection!
They think that they are sure of carrying me about with them
wherever they go, and of bringing themselves into notice by the
brilliant effect which I am always sure to make in society . . .
And no bad scheme, either! I will do them the justice to allow
that my fortune and my face together, would be likely enough to
atone for their own detestable folly and insignificance, if anything
could do it. But I will teach them the difference. That giggling
idiot, Lucy, has made the most detestable sort of marriage in the
world ! A title ! A pretty title, without one atom of style or
fashion belonging to it ! They shan't be many months older,
before they have both learned to know the difference between my
presence and my absence."
These muttered meditations were far from being the mere idle
ebullitions of transitory disappointment and ill-temper ; on the
contrary, they were the result of her deepest feelings, and most
resolute purposes. And we may take our final leave of this beau-
tiful creature at once, by stating, that by the help of her quick-
witted and intriguing little waiting-maid, she contrived to get at
296 geeteude; oe,
a groom, wlio spoke French glibly, and took bribes with equal
facility and intelligence. By his assistance she managed to
convey herself, her wardrobe, her maid, and this said groom
(suddenly promoted to the rank of courier), to an obscure exit
from the castle court-yard, where her own fine travelling
carriage, in which she had made her journey from England,
awaited her, and at an hour so early in the morning as to secure
her from the embarrassment of encountering any of the noble
family of Steinfeld.
It was generally supposed that this well-managed elopement
had been arranged by some fortunate individual, whom Lucy
would be speedily informed had been added to her family con-
nections, by way of a brother.
Eut Lucy herself knew her half-sister better. "iN'o!" said
she, when this very natural surmise was suggested; *'no!
Arabella will fall in love a great many more times yet, before
she falls into marriage. She has always been very subject to
love fits ; but with all her folly in this way, she has always
seemed clever enough to get out of an engagement as easily as
she got into it ; and I should not wonder, if she went on in the
same way for years ! Arabella is certainly very proud of her
beauty, and is excessively fond of di^essing herself, and of being
told that she is an angel, and that one man after another is dying
for her. But take my word for it, Adolphe, she loves her money
still more tenderly than she loves her beauty."
This harangue, which was very kindly uttered in order to calm
the useless activity of her husband (who seemed to think that it
was his duty to look after the runaway, and induce her to return
to them, if still unmarried), not only produced the effect for
which it was spoken, but was often quoted by Adolphe after-
wards, as having been perfectly prophetic.
The beautiful Arabella had reached the mature age of fifty-
three, ere she finally consented to bind herself to one adorer,
instead of remaining at liberty to receive the homage of many ;
nor did she marry then, without taking excellent good care of her
darling money, keeping very nearly the whole of it at her own
disposal, and bequeathing it, at last, to a frolicsome young gen-
tleman of twenty-two, who assured her, that among his various
whims and vagaries, the only one which was really a part
of himself, was that which led him to prefer old ladies to young
ones.
FAMILY PKIDE. 297
CHAPTEPv XLV.
But vre must now resume the course of our narrative. The
perfect and most happy understanding which, after long years of
secrecy and suffering, was at last established between Rupert and
Gertrude, for some time appeared perfectly sufficient to content
the hearts of both ; and no wonder that it should have been so,
for the happiness it had brought to them both was in very bright
contrast to the heavy hopeless gloom which had before enveloped
them.
It had been mutually agreed between them, after a good deal
of discussion, that Madame Odenthal should not be made
acquainted with the secret of their attachment. This reserve,
far from arising from any want of affection on the part of either
of them towards this truly friendly mother and motherly friend,
was the result of the most tender anxiety for her tranquillity.
They both knew her too well, not to feel certain that were she
made acquainted with their attachment, she could not fail to be
unhappy, whether she kept their secret or betrayed it.
Such a confidence must, in fact, have placed her in a most
embarrassing position. She was so implicitly trusted by the
baron, that, to betray that trust by becoming an approving
repository of such a secret, would doom her for ever, in her own
eyes quite as much as in his, to the reproach of the very deepest
treachery ; while, on the other hand, if she returned their con-
fidence, by betraying it to him, she must estrange herself for ever
from all that was left her to love on earth. '
All this was so obvious, that it took them not long to
decide that neither of them could have any confidant, save
the other.
]N"or was there any great difficulty in strictly adhering to this
resolution. Eupcrt was quite conscious that he had effectually
succeeded hitherto in concealing from his mother all that he
wished should be still concealed ; and nothing, therefore, was
necessary, but that he should persevere in the same line of conduct
which he had so long and so successfully adopted.
With Gertrude, indeed, the case was different ; but, neverthe-
less, the difficulty was not much greater ; for though the suffering
girl had often been conscious that Madame Odenthal suspected
298 GEiiTErDE; or,
her cittaclimcnt — an idea which she chiefly denvecl, perhaps, from
the fact of lliipert never being made the subject of conversation
between them — the habit of silence concerning him, when they
were tete-a-tete together, was sufficiently established to prevent
any feeling of embarrassment from being created by its careful
continuance.
Por several months after the long- delayed explanation took
place, by which the mutual affection of these dangerously-placed
young people was made known to each other, they both thought
that they had attained a degree of happiness which greatly
exceeded what usually falls to the lot of human beings during
this imperfect stage of their existence.
Little or nothing was changed in their usual manner of exist-
ence; yet each day, and almost each hour of the day, seemed
bright with new happiness. Had they never known the dreary
misery of loving, without daring to hope, almost without daring
to wish for a return, they would not now have enjoyed the fulness
of happiness which seemed to awaken them into a new state of
existence.
The very secrecy of this happiness seemed to increase its inten-
sity. The sentiment which each was so delightfully conscious
was reflected in the heart of the other, could not, they were
quite certain, be understood by any but themselves ; and, there-
fore, its being suspected by none, was a blessing inexpressibly
precious.
The daily routine of their lives (totally as they were actually
changed) seemed to go on without any variation; and, in fact,
the very sharpest eye could have detected no alteration but
one.
On returning from Paris, Gertrude had very discreetly made a
law respecting the disposition of her time, which, according to
the long-established habits of Eupert, prevented their ever
occupying themselves in the garden at the same hour of the day.
But . this prudent regulation existed no longer ; and they pruned
trees, picked off dead leaves, and removed fading blossoms very
often side by side, and even occasionally walked together from one
end of the long shrubbery avenue to the other, without any
qualms of conscience interfering on either side to prevent them.
It was during this very happy interval that the superb Arabella
withdrew herself from the neighbourhood ; and although her
doing so was very decidedly a domestic blessing to her sister, and
by no means very much regretted even by her sister's good-
natured husband, the suddenness of her retreat, as well as the
FA^HLY PEIDE. 299
mysterious mauner of it, led to more gossiping in the ncigliboiir-
hood than they cither of them liked io encounter ; and it was,
therefore, sjjeedily decided between them, that the wisest thing
they could do, would be to see a little more of the world ; the gay
little Lucy assuring her husband that, after she had seen Paris
and Vienna, and enjoyed a little dissipation at both, she should
be ready to come home, and be quiet for the rest of her life.
Schloss Schwanberg relapsed again, and very speedily, into its
former stately stillness after their departure. ISo more beautiful
young ladies arrived to persuade the baron that he was still a most
fascinating old gentleman ; and the conclusion of his acquaintance
with the fair Arabella, had annoyed him too severely to leave him
with either courage or inclination to repeat the experiment of
making himself agreeable.
All this was extremely favourable to the establishment of such
a mode of life as Gertrude now looked forward to as the greatest
happiness within her reach ; and, in truth, so great was the happi-
ness it brought, when compared with the misery she had long
endured, that her enjoyment of it almost made her forget that she
might be happier still.
The health of her father was excellent, for he, too, felt that the
life he was now leading, suited him vastly better than either the
brilliant splendours of Paris or the flattering fatigue of becoming
the confidential friend of a beautiful Arabella.
To the final adventure, however, with that young lady, he
never alluded. The reason for which, probably, being that, even
he, would have found it impossible to discuss it with the clegTee
of solemn dignity which ought to belong to everything in which
he bore a part.
It was becoming veiy evident, also, to an eye as observant of
his likings and dislikings as that of Gertrude, that he was growing
every day more attached to his own arm-chair, and more reluctant
to leave it. He had married so late in life, that, young as his
daughter still was, he was an old man ; and the habits of his
whole life having been uniformly self-indulgent, he felt more
disposed, than his still excellent health rendered necessary, to
yield to these unsocial propensities.
It would be doing the excellent Gertrude much less than
justice to suppose that she would have been likely, under any
circumstances, to have resisted his daily increasing attachment to
the stately solitude of his own abode, in order to procure amuse-
ment for herself elsewhere ; but, as it happened, this very quiet
and retired mode of life was precisely what she would have
300 geeteijde; or,
arranged for herself had her own enjoyment been the only object
she had in view ; and it -would be difficult, perhaps, to imagine a
situation in which lovers so imperatively separated by circum-
stances in one direction, could be so propitiously situated in
another.
That there was a good deal of sympathy between the character
of Eupert and that of Gertrude, in some respects, cannot be
doubted. They could scarcely have loved each other so devotedly,
had it been otherwise ; but, had there been more still, they would
have contemplated the happiness of their present condition with a
greater equality of contentment.
The nature of Gertrude was as gentle as it was finn. During
that most miserable period of her life which she had passed in
Paris, even while believing it to be her duty to place herself in a
condition more miserable still, the sweet gentleness of her temper
had never given way. IN'ot even Madame Odenthal, through all
the dismal hours of that most wretched winter, so many of which
had been passed by her tetc-d-tete with poor Gertrude, had ever
seen her give way to melancholy, or beheld her charming coun-
tenance disfigured by an aspect of discontent.
There had been, even then, through all the varied sorrows
which pressed so heavily on her young heart, a patient sweetness,
that had no mixture of complaint in its expression. And the
same gentle philosophy might easily be recognised in her aspect
now. While thankfully blessing the happy change from the
anguish of thinking that she was doomed to pass her life in
loving one who would never love her in return, she showed no
symptom of lamenting that she was not happier still.
jS'or was there the least mixture of affectation in this ; she really
was as contented, and happy as she appeared to be. Her first
thought on waking was one of joy, for it brought the assurance
of passing many hours of the coming day with Eupcrt, and the
dearer assurance still, that Eupert loved her. And when she laid
her head upon her pillow at night, the remembrance of that
precious love, which had been seen by her, though by no one else,
through every hour of the happy day, was the theme of her last
waking thought.
But, alas ! the case was widely different with E-upert. iN'o
sense of filial duty, no tender feeling of filial love, softened his
heart, and enabled him to bear with the like resignation the
dreadful impossibility of making the admirable creature, who so
tenderly returned his love, the wife of his bosom, and the assured
companion of his life.
PASIILY PRIDE. 301
He vainly pleaded to her, in the words of his own English
church, ''Those whom God has joined together, let no man put
asunder." She could only shake her head, and say, " 'No Eupert !
no ! Those Avords cannot be applied to us ! It cannot be the will
of God that I should wound my father to the heart, and perhaps
shorten his days, in order to ensiure my own happiness. He gave
me my life, dear Eupert, before you saved it. The first duty
which heaven appoints us to perform, is that which Ave owe our
parents. Let me not fail in that, for if I did, you would no
longer see in me the same creature whom you have so long and
faithfully loved. If I saw you do what would most deeply pain
your mother, Eupert, should I still love you as perfectly as I do
now ? I do not think it."
And Eupert, to do him justice, did not listen to such language
as this without feeling the deference it deserved ; and that, in
truth, was much, for it was the outpouring of a most true, pure,
and loving heart. Eut the being very fully aware that it Avas so,
did not greatly improve his condition, or lessen his regret at
feeling that she could not, and ought not, be his.
This state of things went on, with little or no variation, for
above a year, during which time poor Gertrude would really have
been very happy, if the state of Eupert would have permitted
her to be so. Eut this he could not, or, at any rate, he did not
do. He Avas certainly not himself at all aware how much pain
his languid eye, his unelastic step, and the evidently depressed
state of his spirits, occasioned her, or he would not have suffered
these painful symptoms to be so very visible. Yet, not even the
seeing all this, could for a moment shake her resolute determina-
tion,' that her father should not be made the victim of his
unbounded confidence in her.
It is true, that her firm spirit would sometimes droop, when
meditating on the hapless obstacles which kept them asander ;
but all this resolute firmness of spirit returned, when she remem-
bered that the bare mention of such an union as that which could
alone ensure Eupert' s happiness, would not only utterly, and as
long as life Avas spared him, destroy his, but that the shock which
such a proposal would occasion, might shorten the life which for
so many years had been wholly occupied in loAdng, cherishing,
and indulging her.
It so chanced that Eupert one day entered the library while
she was sitting there alone, and weeping bitterly, as she meditated
on the perversity of a destiny which only left her the poAver of
choosing between the misery of dooming the man she loA'ed to
302 GEniErDE; oe,
the dreary, lingerinp; suffering of a hopeless attachment, and that
of endangering the life of her doting father, by stabbing him to
the heart in the point where she knew him to be most sus-
ceptible.
When Eupert questioned her as to the cause of this vehement
burst of feeling, she only begged him to forgive her weakness,
without insisting upon her explaining the cause of it. But he
could not be so silenced, and the scene ended by her opening her
whole heart to him, and making him understand the bitter suf-
fering of such an alternative.
This painful scene was so far useful, that it put an effectual
stop to the pleadings which had so often wrung her heart, when
the only reply she could make to them was, ' ' Rupert ! It is
impossible ! "
Before they parted she made him feel and fully understand
ivhy it was impossible ; and he promised, with all the solemnity
of fervent truth, that she should never hear any pleading from
him again, a compliance with which might lead her to deem her-
self a parricide.
And the unhappy Ptupert Odenthal not only made this promise
sincerely, but he kept it faithfully.
CHAPTEH XLYI.
It is an excellent adage which says, *'Kever do wrong that
right may come of it ; " but it is sadly true, nevertheless, that by
doing right at one moment, we may sometimes entail sad mischief
on the future. There can be no doubt that the Baroness Ger-
trude acted according to her duty, when she resolutely refused
to destroy her father's happiness for the sake of promotiog her
own ; and yet this resolute adherence to duty probably occasioned
more suffering than it saved.
Moreover, it is probable, that during the melancholy discussions
that have been described, and which terminated by Rupert's
pledging his word that he would not again urge her to avow her
attachment to her father, there was one point upon which she
would have been wiser, if she had yielded to his wishes.
Having promised that her father's days should never be em-
FAMILY rEIDE. 303
tittered by a knowledge of this attachmeiit, Eiipert had ventured
to ask for her promise that she would be his wife after the death
of her father ; and she certainly showed more of weakness than
of wisdom, when she answered him by a passionate flood of tears,
and declared, that dearly as she loved him, she would rather that
they should part that moment, never to meet again, than give a
promise which might, by slow and treacherous degrees, lead to
her wishing for an event, which it had been the morning and
evening prayer of her life might be far, far from her !
This feeling was a very natural one, but it led her wrong.
By the encouragement she had already given, she had so
cherished and strengthened the attachment she had inspired, that
by refusing to permit any positive promise of becoming his wife
to pass her lips, she deprived him of the best, if not the only
source of courage and consolation which it was in her power to
bestow.
The effect was very melancholy, and it was not long in show-
ing itself.
From being a most persevering reader, and a writer too — for
the mind of Eupert was of too active a nature not to seek this
indulgence — he became the very idlest, and most objjctless of
men.
It was in vain that poor Gertrude endeavoured to check this
growing malady (for such, in truth, it was), by endeavouring to
lead him into literary discussion, and to amuse his mind by sug-
gesting thoughts, and speculations, less melancholy than his own.
All such efforts were utterly useless.
And yet it was evident that he endeavoured to rally the sink-
ing energies of his character, and to be to her the same inspiring
companion he had ever been. Eut such efforts were perfectly in
vain ; he was no longer master of himself, and his faculties.
His position was, in truth, a very cruel one. -
During several years he had baffled, by the efforts of a naturally
vigorous mind, and the courageous animal spirits of early youth,
the painful effects arising from the conviction that the high-
jjlaced beauty whom he had dared to love, did not, and could not,
condescend to love him in return ; and if this utter hopelessness
had continued for a year or two longer, he would doubtless have
outlived, and probably forgotten, the ardent di'cam of these
almost boyish days.
Eut ere this sort of oblivion, or anything approaching it, had
come upon him, he had the doubtful happiness of believing that
this first and only love was not unrequited.
304 geeteude; oe,
Tlie effect of this discovery was as decisive as it was inevitable.
The world no longer contained anything ^Y^ich appeared to his
feelings worth living for, unless Gertrude and her love were
blended with it.
The happiness which ensued from the first mutual and frank
avowal of an attachment so natural, yet so long concealed, was
great indeed, and it would be difficult to say which young heart
derived the highest and most perfect felicity from it. But, un-
fortunately, the position of the parties was such, as to render it
impossible that this feeling of happiness could last.
As long as Gertrude had remained hopelessly convinced that
the devoted affection which she had bestowed on Eupert was un-
returned, she had found very rational, and, to a certain degree,
very effectual consolation, in such a constant occupation of her
time as left her with few idle moments in which to indulge
meditation, or the untowardness of her destiny ; which, while
seeming to place her in a position in many respects so enviable,
denied the only blessing that in her estimation was really worthy
of the name.
Very persevering and very meritorious were the efforts by
which she had thus sought to emancipate herself from this vile
thraldom of unrequited love ; and had the love remained unre-
quited, they would probably have been crowned with the success
they deserved.
But no sooner did she discover her mistake, no sooner did she
f c el
"How sweet's the love that meets return,"
than all these efforts ceased, and for a time, she was, perhaps,
one of the very happiest creatures in existence.
And so she might have continued, perhaps, if Eupert could
have contemplated the situation in which they now stood to each
other, with the same satisfaction as herself ; but the first intoxi-
cating joy of the explanation being over, he began to feel that if
she had not courage enough to ask her father's consent to their
union, and influence enough to obtain it, the consciousness of
her devoted affection was rather a misery than a blessing ....
and it can scarcely be denied that he was right in thinking so.
Up to this period, Madame Odenthal knew nothing of the ex-
planation which had taken place between her son and Gertrude,
beyond what her own sagacity had enabled her to discover.
They both knew her too well, not to be aware, that they should
be throwing a heavy load upon her conscience, by confiding 1 f>
FAMILY PEIDE. 305
her the secret of their attachment ; and their discretion certainly-
saved her, for some time, from a very painful embarrassment.
She could not, however, long remain blind to the marked
change vs^hich had taken place in them both, nor could she long
doubt the cause of it.
The affectionate discretion which prevented their avowing
their mutual attachment to her, did not go the length of carefully
concealing it ; and the firmness of character which her son had
displayed during all the misery she now felt sure he must have
endured at Paris, convinced her that he would require no lec-
turing from her to prevent his returning all the generous kind-
ness of the baron, by inducing his daughter to leave him ; and
she, therefore, felt herself justified in letting matters go on with-
out any interference on her part, till the death of Gertrude's aged
father should leave his daughter at liberty to act for herself.
Eut this very rational resolution was now shaken by the pain-
ful change which she witnessed in her son ; and no sooner did
she become aware of this, than she became fully as miserable as
the lovers themselves.
To her son, however, she gave no hint either that she read his
heart, or was aware of the ravages which the state of it had
caused both in his mental and bodily health ; but she could no
longer retain the same reserve with Gertrude ; and notwithstand-
ing the obvious and very sad impossibility that either could help
the other, the confidence thus established between them was
certainly in some degree a relief to both.
Yet it would be difficult to imagine anything much more sad
than the conversations they held together, when all the other
inhabitants of the castle had retired for the night. The very
perfect accordance, moreover, which existed between them on the
subject of all their melancholy discussions, only served, in their
case, to increase the pain of them. Had either of them sincerely
difi'ered from the other on any one point, it could scarcely have
failed to be a comfort ; but not only was there no contrariety of
opinion, but there was scarcely a shade of difi'erence between
them ; for the strong sense of duty which led both to resolve
that the tranquil happiness of the old man's life should not be
disturbed, was equally firm in both.
"Were we not so perfectly of the opinion that this unhappy
love must be conquered," said Madame Odenthal, ''these most
melancholy, but most dear moments of confidence, my dearest
Gertrude, would soon degenerate into a conspiracy, and a con-
spiracy against one who has been the fondest of fathers to you,
21
SOG geeteude; oe,
and the most generous of "benefactors to me. Let us thank
Heaven, clearest, that no selfish feeling has been powerful enough
to beguile us into such sin ! "
And this feeling did sustain them both ; and the proud old
man dozed on in his easy chair, firmly persuaded, that not even
the "Almanack de Gotha " itself recorded many names, the
dignity of which was sustained with such unspotted purity as his
own.
Had the passive courage of Eupert been as well sustained as
that of Gertrude, the destiny of both might have been very
different. Eut it was not so. And yet neither his mother nor
Gertrude could accuse him of failing in the promise he had given,
of urging the latter no more to pledge herself to any engagement
for the future. But ere many months had passed over them, so
painful a change became evident in Eupert, as to suggest to them
both the most terrible idea that could enter the mind of either.
Health, both of mind and body, was evidently failing him.
It is only by degrees that such a fact is in any case considered
as likely to become permanent by those watching it at the com-
mencement ; and both the loving hearts which were so tenderly
devoted to him, were long sustained by the persuasion that acci-
dental cold, and consequent fever, were the causes of the symp-
toms which alarmed them, in which persuasion they were
strengthened by the assurances of the invalid himself, who,
although he confessed that he was not quite well, reiterated his
assurances that he should soon be better.
CHAPTEE XLYII.
AYniLE everything was thus apparently stationary at Schloss
Schwanberg, an important change took place in the family of
their nearest and most estimable neighbour, Count Steinfeld.
His wife, who though not a very brilliant, was a very
amiable woman, died from a fever caught by some imprudent ex-
posure to cold, after active exercise. Her son and his wife, who
FAMILY TETDE. 307
had been now absent for more tlian a year, "were suddenly re-
called, but arrived only in time to attend her funeral.
The only persons admitted to see them during tlie first month
or two which followed this melancholy event, were their
neighbours at Schloss Schwanberg, and Gertrude's society became
a blessing of no small importance to poor Lucy ; for she had lost
much of her former gaiety since they parted, having become a
mother, and lost her child, just as she was made aware that life
had better pleasures to bestow than any which could be welcomed
by laughter.
She was now much more sedate, without being at all less
agreeable ; for her quick faculties and charming good humour
were only the more endearing, from being no longer displayed in
the perpetual garb of jesting.
The retm'n of Adolphe seemed, for a time, to produce a very
salutary effect on the health of llupert ; and the having remarked
this, caused Gertrude to promote, by every means in her power,
an almost daily intercourse between the two families, and this
intercourse certainly proved a most essential advantage to both
parties. The truly sorrowing widower, ^v}lo was still almost a
young man, having some family arrangements to settle with the
brother of his deceased wife, was prevailed uj)on to change
the scene by transacting the business in person, at the distant
residence of this brother ; and Count Adolphe and his young
wife were left in occupation of the family mansion, which being
"a world too wide" for the reduced household, was greatly
benefited by the frequent visits of the Schwanberg party.
The aged baron, indeed, had for some time been beginning to
feel that it was more agreeable to receive visits, than to make
them ; but as Father Alaric had been of late taken into as great
favour as a backgammon player, as he still continued to be as a
confessor, he was always at hand to assist his sister Odenthal
in supplying the place both of his daughter and his secretary.
But although Eupert never met his friend Adolphe without
pleasure, the excitement caused by his return soon faded away ;
and though he frequently, as in days of yore, brought over some
newly-arrived volume, or pungent pamphlet, upon which they
might compare criticisms, and philosophise on the onward move-
ment of the age, it was often evident to the quick eye of Adolphe,
that his friend was no longer the same ardent thinker, or the
same animated companion, that he was wont to be.
Rupert could still talk, and talk well, on all the stirring themes
which science and philosophy suggested, but it was not without
21—3
308 gehteude; on,
effort that he did so ; and this intimate and almost daily inter-
course had not continued long, before Adolphe became convinced
that his friend was suffering from some malady, either mental or
bodily, or both.
It chanced that our old acquaintance, Dr. Meper, who was
still the favourite JEsculapius of the neighbourhood, was making
a professional visit to Lucy, when Eupcrt arrived to keep an
appointment which he had made with Count Adolj)he.
It was more than a year since the doctor had last seen his
former patient ; and he was immediately struck by the alteration,
by no means for the better, which had taken place in his appear-
ance durino; the interval.
" AVhat have you been doing with yourself, my young friend,
since I had last the pleasure of seeing you '? " said the sagacious
doctor, "You look as if you had been making a campaign in
Egypt, and that it had very particularly disagreed with you."
It was a very languid smile with which Rupert replied, " Xo,
doctor, I have not been campaigning in Egypt. Perhaps I have
not been campaigning enough, anywhere. I believe I am
gradually growing into the condition of the poor grub commonly
called a book- worm."
" Then I strongly recommend you to leave the Schwanberg
library to take care of itself for a little time, while you set forth
upon a scamper either north, south, west, or east, to amuse your-
self. I would not have taken, so much trouble as I did some
seven or eight years ago to keep you alive, after your heroic
adventure with the little baroness in the river, if I had thought
5'ou would turn out nothing better than a grub."
AVhile laughingly ranking this speech. Dr. IS'ieper had taken
the hand of Eupert in liis, and with an air of very easy indif-
ference was carefuUj' feeling his pulse.
He made no observation, however, upon the condition in which
he found it, and almost immediately afterwards took his leave.
Eupert returned to the business upon which he and his friend
had been engaged before this interruption, and which consisted
in the examination of a very dusty collection of old coins which
Adolphe had discovered in some out-of-the-way corner, and
which he flattered himself the savoir of his friend Eupcrt might
enable him to arrange ; but Adolphe pushed the table aside,
saying, " Xo, no, Eupert, if you are unwell, you shall not be
teased by such tiresome work as this. Let us take a stroll up
the long walk. It will do us both a great deal more good than
poring over these dirty coins."
FAMILY rPJDE. 309
Eupert offered no opposition to the X3roposal, and the two
young men set off upon their lounging excursion.
This was certainly not the first time that Count Adolphe had
been aware that his friend was looking unwell ; but Rupert
having replied to the affectionate inquiry on the subject which
this observation led to, by saying, " I have had a bad cold, and
that always makes one look half dead, I think," had received the
explanation as perfectly satisfactory, and contented himself after-
wards by occasionally reiterating the usual fomiula so constantly
repeated upon similar occasions. "Do take care of yourself,
Eupert. You do not look as if you had got rid of that abomi-
nable cold yet."
But the words, and still more the manner, of Dr. Meper had
alarmed Adolphe ; and he determined to take advantage of the
next opportunity which presented itself, to learn the skilful
practitioner's real opinion.
He did not wait long for this, for Lucy was still under his
care ; and having wavlaid the good doctor as he was making his
retreat, the young Count asked him, with some anxiety, whether
he thought his friend Odenthal had any complaint more serious
than the " bad cold " which he complained of.
" If you had not asked me this question. Count Adolphe," re-
plied the Doctor, "I think I should have addressed something
like it to you. It is some months since I last saw this very
magnificent young fellow, and the change which has taken place
in him startles me. He is decidedly suffering under the treache-
rous influence of low fever. Is it long since you first remarked
this painful change in him ? "
" 2s'o, not long," replied the Count. " When I did remark it,
he told me that he had been suffering from a severe cold. Do
you think, Dr. !N"ieper, that a cold is a malady of sufficient im-
portance to account for the change which we both remark in
him?"
^^ A coJd?''^ repeated the Doctor, shaking his head; '' a cold
is a sort of nick-name for a multitude of maladies, which would
sound a good deal worse, if described more accurately. He may
have had a cold, and this cold may have been neglected, and it
may, though I don't say it has, but it may have settled upon the
chest, which would be quite enough to account for the very un-
satisfactory state of his pulse. But it is just as likely that he
may be suffering under the influence of some mental vexation, as
from any other cause. It does sometimes happen, you know, at
his age, that young people worry themselves into fevers, without
310 gebteude; or,
the help of any specific malady. Let it he what it nay, I trust
he will do hattle with it, and master it too, for he is one of the
finest young men I ever saw."
Adolphe neither liked these threatening words, nor the tone
in which they were spoken; for there was evidently some alarm,
as well as much kindness, in the good man's manner. He was
determined, however, if there was any serious malady, he would
find it out, and prevent its being neglected.
*' He shall have change of air and scene, if that will do him
any good," thought the kind-hearted Adolphe. " I would travel
with him round the world, dear fellow ! rather than lose him ! "
The intercourse between the two families was too frequent to
leave any long interval before the young men again met ; and
then, although E-upert's reply to his ''How are you?" was a
very prompt " Yery well, thank you," his appeai^ance was by no
means accordant with it.
The dusty coins were again brought out, the occupation they
were likely to offer being more favourable, in the young Count's
opinion, to the cross-examination to which he fully intended to
submit him, than the absence of all employment for eyes and
hands.
Although the very happy husband of the pretty Lucy was as
free from all lover-like admiration for the stately Gertrude as it
was well possible for a man to be, he well remembered the time
when he had thought her very charming ; and although he equally
remembered that liupert was at that time very far from looking
at her with the same admiring eyes as himself, he thought it by
no means impossible, that during the years they had since passed
together, the judgment of the man might have corrected the
defective taste of the boy.
''Mercy on him, if this unfortunate change has actually taken
place ! " mentally exclaimed Adolphe, as he recalled the result of
his own adventure. "If the 'Almanack de Gotha' rejected me,
how will it serve my unfortunate friend? "
Eut the obvious difficulties attending such an attachment, by
no means sufficed to convince Adolphe that it could not exist ;
moreover, he very modestly remembered that it was possible the
young lady herself might be more inclined to throw over the
* Almanack' in this case than in his own; and if, indeed, Eupert
Odenthal loved Gertrude, and was loved by her in return, it was
not very improbable that the utter impossibility of obtaining the
baron's consent might occasion misery sufficient to break more
hearts than one.
FAMILY PEIDE. 311
Adolphe rGmembcrecl, too, while ruminating on this very inter-
esting possibility, that Lucy had long ago hinted a suspicion that
Gertrude had feelings, even tenderer than a sister's love, for this
companion of her youth, who had first saved her life, and then,
beyond all doubt, very materially contributed to embellish it ; for
no one knew better than Adolphc, no, not even Gertriide herself,
how very delightful, and how very attaching a companion Eupert
would be.
"And must he die for it?" mentally exclaimed his friend, as
this very probable state of things suggested itself.
" Yet who is to find out the real state of the case? and how is
it possible that we can give counsel, or aid of any kind, without
being in their confidence ? "
Eut it was easier to see the truth of this, than to devise any
plan by which the difficulty could be lessened. If this suspected
attachment really existed, the impediments to any happy conclu-
sion to such a romance were of much too stubborn a character to
afi'ord any reasonable hope of their yielding to any influence which
could be put in action to remove them.
The bare idea of attacking the baron on the subject, so vividly
recalled the scene of his own dismissal, that his active imagina-
tion immediately painted to him the sort of indignation which was
likely to ensue, upon Eupert Odenthal's being proposed to him as
a son-in-law, and he instantly decided that the experiment must
not be made.
If Eupert had been his own brother, Adolphe Steinfeld could
not have shrunk from the idea of his being treated with indignity,
more sensitively than he did now ; and, at length, he decided that,
by far the best remedy which could be applied, if further obser-
vation tended to confirm the notion of this attachment, would be
absence. *' I will carry him off ! " he mentally exclaimed. ** We
will together traverse this pretty little globe of ours, from east
to west ; and it may be, that when we return, we shall find this
high-born heiress safely united in holy wedlock to some noble Yon
something, whose name glitters through half a dozen pages of the
holy Almanack."
It was without the very slightest approach to satirical imperti-
nence that La ^Fontaine's well-known words,
" On a souvent besoiii d'vin plus petit que soi,"
occurred to him. He felt conscious that, intimate as he was
with Eupert, he should be greatly at a loss how to set to work in
order to discover whether he was right or wrong in the guess he
312 GERTErDE; OE,
had made respecting' the greatly-altered condition of his friend.
"I know that, if I attempted to hint my suspicion to him, I
should do it in so confoundedly awkward a manner, that I should
be sure to give him pain, but not be so sure of obtaining his con-
fidence," thought Adolphe, as he meditated long and anxiously
on the subject. But, having come to this conclusion, he went on
a little further, and then it occurred to him that, although ho
might fail in arriving at an exact knowledge of the state of
Bupert's affections, by way of question and answer, Lucy might
accomplish the same object, by means of her intimate intercourse
with Grertrude.
And then it was that the saucy quotation about " tm 2)Iub 'petiV
suggested itself. But, truly, there was no offence in it, according
to his interpretation ; and any mind which could have followed
his, as he dwelt upon the tender tact and loving gentleness with
which he knew his Lucy would perform such a task, if hoping to
serve her friend thereby, would have found only what was
endearing in the word ])etit., and nothing at all approaching the
more contemptible characteristics of a mouse.
CHAPTEE XLYIII.
The languid eye and feverish cheek of poor Eupert would not
easily have passed from the mind of his friend, even if he had
been surrounded by a host of the very gayest company ; but, as
it happened, he and his Lucy passed the evening of the day on
which he had first felt seriously alarmed about him, in a perfectly
undisturbed matrimonial tete-a-iete^ and it was thus that the
subject was discussed between them : —
" Lucy, dear," said Adolphe, as they sipped their evening coffee,
*' do you remember telling me, at least a year ago, I think it was,
that you fancied the Baroness Gertrude was a little bit, or so,
inclined to fall in love with my friend Odenthal? "
''Yes, husband," replied Lucy, very demui'ely; "I remember
it very particularly well."
" But, as you have never said anything about it since, I presume
you have changed your mind."
"I don't very clearly see why that should follow," returned
FAMILY PEIDE. 313
Lucy, rather gravely. " Eut, I believe, I was only in jest when
I said it."
" So I remember thinking at the time. Eut tell me, Lucy,
has no such idea about either of them ever come into your head
since ? "
" Why do you ask me ? " was her rejoinder.
''Don't be mysterious, my dear, unless you have pledged your
word to be so," returned her husband.
"I have certainly pledged my word to nothing in any degree
connected with the subject; and if I have ever thought of it
since, it has not been in the way of a jest, Adolphe," was her
grave reply.
Her husband remained silent for a minute or two, and then said,
" My dear Lucy, if you have ever had any confidential conversa-
tion with the Baroness Gertrude respecting her feelings towards
Rupert, or his towards her, let me very earnestly beg you to
believe that I would not for the world be the means of leading
you to betray it."
*'I am quite sure you would do no such thing," returned his
wife. " Eut I, on my side, am in no more danger of committing
such treachery, than you are of tempting me to do it ; for I never
heard Gertrude allude to Eupert at all in any of the many
tete-a-tete conversations which we have had together ... so
decidedly, indeed, has this been the case, Adolphe, that I own to
you I have sometimes thought that she would not trust herself to
talk of him."
" God grant it may be so ! " cried Adolphe, fervently.
*' What can you mean, dear husband?" exclaimed Lucy, with
surprise. '' Would you wish the Eroness Gertrude to fall in love
with Eupert Odenthal ? "
"I might form such a wish, Lucy, and very rationally, too, in
my opinion (provided he returned her love), for I do not believe
the whole world can contain any man more worthy of her. I
know him well, Lucy, and I know of no fine quality which he
does not possess, nor of any evil one which he does."
"Oh, Adolphe! what a dreadful misfortune it is that their
respective stations should place them so far asunder ! " exclaimed
Lucy, with very genuine feeling. "As I have received no con-
fidence," she added, " I shall betray none by telling you, that in
mv heart I do believe Gertrude loves him."
"And I do believe in mine that he loves her!" returned
Adolphe, with great energy ; " and if we are both of us right in
our conjectures, my dear wife, I know of no deed that I should
3l4 geetetde; oe
consider it more righteous to perform than the removing all the
doubts, difficulties, and obstacles which impede their becomicg
man and wife."
Lucy joyfully clapped her hands on healing these very unex-
pected words, and bestowed a nod and smile of unmistakable
approbation on her husband. But her glee did not last long ; for
after the meditation of a few minutes, every one of which,
as they passed, caused her to look graver and graver, she
heaved a very heavy sigh, and exclaimed, in a voice which
sounded very like a groan, ''Oh, Adolphe ! the baron! the
baron I "
Adolphe prefaced his reply, by seizing with one hand a piece of
crumpled paper on which some idle characters had been scrawled,
and then thrown aside, and with the other a volume of Tennyson's
poems, which lay upon the table.
"Now, Lucy ! " said he, almost solemnly, "look on this paper
and on that. "Which of these articles do you consider as the best
deserving of preservation?"
Lucy looked puzzled for a moment, but her bright eye kindled
as he went on. " That worn-out morsel of transmuted rag," said
he, pointing to the crumpled paper, " may serve, not unaptly, to
represent our right good friend the baron; and this," he added,
taking the Tennyson volume in his hand, " as fitly represents our
ardent-minded, philosophical Eupert. jS'ow, Lucy, if you were
obliged to decide that one of these two objects must of necessity
be thrown aside and forgotten, in order to preserve the other in
the highest possible preservation, the choice between them being
left wholly to you, how should you decide ? "
" I doubt not I should say on this occasion, as I should on most
others, Adolphe .... You must decide for me. And as usual,
dear husband, I should do so with very little fear that your fiat
would run counter to my wishes."
"You are a darling wife, Lucy; and my friend Eupert shall
have a darling wife too, if we can but find out some good way of
conquering the difficulties that surround him."
" The only difficulty is the baron, dear Adolphe ! " said Lucy,
shaking her head in a very desponding style. "Your crumpled
bit of paper does not represent him fairly. As far as his being
rather useless goes, it might do very well ; but you do not under-
stand Gertrude as well as I do, if you fancy that she considers
him as of little consequence, because he happens to be of little
use. I do not believe that she would run the risk of making him
mnhappy during the few years of life which may remain to him,
FA3riLY PETDE. 3l5
if she conlcl ensure her o^n happiness by doing so to the end of
a life as long as his own."
"I daresay you are right, Lucy; I do believe that there is an
immense fund of devoted aficction, and heroic self-denial, in the
heart of every tolerably good woman. Eut she is not the first,
you know, who has felt the inconvenience of a divided duty. If
she performs her part as a good daughter, in such a manner as to
send Rupert to an early grave, I shall not very easily forgive her,"
said Adolphe, somewhat sternly.
" Oh ! as to that, my dear friend," returned Lucy gaily, ''men
have died and worms have eaten them .... You know the
rest."
" I know the rest of your quotation, but you do not know the
rest of ray prophecy . . . ." And then, discarding all playfulness
of manner, Adolphe related to her very exactly what had passed
between himself and Doctor Nieper.
She was both pained and surprised at this, and for the first
time, began to feel that Adolphe was very gravely in earnest.
J^or was it without reason that he was so. He had made no
blunder either in the judgment he had himself passed on the
painfully altered appearances of his friend, nor in the interpreta-
tion which he had given both to the words and the manner of
Doctor Xieper.
Eut no sooner was the warm-hearted Lucy awakened to the
fact that Adolphe really believed the tranquillity, nay, it might
be, the life of his friend was endangered by this apparently
desperately hopeless attachment, than she at once set herself very
seriously to consider whether some way might not be found, ere
the mischief had gone too far to be repaired, by which a denoue-
ment somewhat less terrible than death might be brought about.
JS'o sooner had she expressed to Adolphe her ardent wish to
make some effort, whether likely to be ultimately successful or
not, by which a chance at least might be given of such hope for
the future as might, in some degree cheer the present, than he
eagerly accepted her profi'ered services.
"I am quite sure," he hopefully exclaimed, " that it is not in
the nature of gentle, soft-hearted woman, to be so sternly stubborn
in their secrecy, as it is evident my friend Eupert intends to be.
He thinks that it is his duty to bury this miserable, hopeless
attachment in eternal silence, and if once persuaded that it is his
duty to die, and 'make no sign,' he will do it."
" He shall not do it if I can prevent it," exclaimed Lucy,
eagerly.
316 GERTE'TBE ; OR,
''Dear Tvife ! " said Adolphe, fondly kissiup: her; "I \rould
give my little finger to ensure to poor pale llupert a life-long
companion as dear to him as you are to me ! " •
" Then let me have a long talk with Gertrude," said Lucy,
very much in earnest, as was evident from her eyes as well as her
voice.
''You shall, dearest!" replied her husband. "I have great
faith in you, for your heart is in this business, my dear wife.
You will make your approaches gently. Lead her to say ten
words about Eupert, and I will trust to your sagacity for making
out their meaning, assisted by the context you will find in her
eyes."
1^0 time was lost in putting this scheme in action, and it was
with right good will that la petite set about it.
The minds of the two friends could scarcely admit of com-
parison, they were so widely diiferent both in strength and in
tone ; but the qualities of which the heart is considered as the
home, had much more of sympathy. Lucy would have felt her-
self greatly more embarrassed had she been charged with a
mission to discover Gertrude's opinion on any of the multitude
of abstract points on which human minds seem "agreed to
differ," (as if only for the purpose of displaying the endless
variety of their fanciful workings) than she was now, that she
had undertaken to dive into the depths of a woman's heart,
which has been so very often described as unfathomable. Eut
she felt, or fancied, that the way was both short and direct.
She made her first step towards the point she had in view,
by saying, "How is our friend Eupert to-day, my dear Ger-
trude?"
" Yery well, I believe," replied Gertrude, occupying herself as
she spoke, in looking for some object which she had, or had
not, dropped upon the carpet. "But I have scarcely seen him
to-day. I think he has gone to assist Count Adolphe in ' doing
nothing,' as you sometimes saucily describe their learned avoca-
tions."
"Adolphe is uneasy about his health," said Lucy, gravely;
"and I must say I do not think he is looking well. Does not his
mother feel uneasy at seeing him so evidently changed in appear-
ance? "
"Changed in appearance?" repeated Gertrude, so evidently
changed in appearance herself, as she repeated the words, that
Lucy felt her doubts, if she had any, as completely solved, as if
the most explicit declaration on the point she wished to elucidate,
FAIJIILY TEIDE.
317
had Leen utterod by tlie pale and trembling lips of poor Gertrude.
She had, indeed, been taken entirely by surprise. Had it been
otherwise, she might perhaps in some degree have avoided so very
decided a demonstration of her feelings. For one short moment
she struggled to recover herself, but the effort was in vain, and
she burst into tears.
The eyes of pretty Lucy were dim, too, as she looked
into the face of her friend, and perceived how painfully
her burning blushes completed the story which her tears
began.
" Why should you turn your eyes away from me, my sweet
Gertrude!" she exclaimed. "Love me only half as well as I
love you, and you will find comfort and not suffering, from per-
ceiving that I read your heart."
" Spare me ! spare me ! " sobbed Gertrude.
" Spare you the comfort of knowing that your noble nature is
understood by one w^hose greatest boast (next to possessing her
husband's love) is, that she believes herself beloved by you ? Pie,
Gertrude ! Fie ! I know that I^ature has not endowed me with
such talents as she has bestowed on you. But you should not
shrink from my true love on that account."
"Shrink from it?" said poor Gertrude, wdth clasped hands
and streaming eyes. " Oh, Lucy I Lucy ! could you but read all
my heart as correctly as it seems you have read a part of it,
you w^ould know, that if my wretched, self- condemning spirit,
could, or can, find comfort from anything, it must be from your
indulgent affection. That you blame me, that you must blame
me, for having in my heart of hearts so cruelly rebelled against
the well-known and most earnest wishes of my dear, devoted
father, is, I well know, as certain as that the light of heaven
enables us to see each other ! That you should still love me, Lucy,
is indeed a balm to my heart, but I feel as if I had no right to
apply it."
"And why not, my beautiful baroness?" said Lucy, smiling
affectionately at her. "Perhaps you think that you shall be
fixing a very heavy responsibility on Adoli:)he and on me, by
opening your heart to us ; but you will be exonerated from this
now, dearest, by my having- taken the initiative, and confessed,
that, notwithstanding all your admirable discretion, we have
discovered your secret. And how could it have been otherwise,
dear Gertrude ? The obvious probability of such an attachment,
thrown together as you have been for so many years, could
scarcely fail to strike friends who know you both so thoroughly
318 GEETErDE; OE,
■well as we do ITow could it have been possible, dearest,
that you should not love one another? "
"God forbid that my poor father should ever be so quick-
sighted! I think it would kill hini ! " said Gertrude, with a
groan.
"Fear nothing on that score," returned Lucy, laughing. "I
am quite sure," she added, "that if I were to state the fact to
him, he would think I was romancing."
"Yes. You are quite right! " said Gertrude, hiding her face
with both hands. " I have so constantly and so carefully
deceived him, and he has so frankly and so honourably believed
my falsehoods, that it was certainly very nearly impossible
that the truth could reach him. But what a picture is this
giving of myself?" she added. "How can you fancy that you
love me, Lucy ? "
" There is no fancy in it, my dear friend," replied Lucy,
gravely. * ' You have had a very difficult destiny to contend with.
I can by no means blame your father, however, for having esta-
blished Rupert Odenthal as a member of his family. I cannot
blame him for it, because he felt grateful for an immense service,
and hoped to requite it by giving him a happy position in his
family. But you must excuse me if I say that his doing so,
would have been utterly inexcusable, had not his inveterate pre-
judice of rank and birth rendered him totally blind to the probable
consequences which were likely to ensue Likely ? . . . .
Oh, much more than likely; the consequences, Gertrude, were
inevitable. If you do not shut the eyes of your judgment, in
order to give your terrified conscience chamj) lihre to torment you,
it is impossible but you must perceive the truth of this. AVhy
has Adolphe selected Eupert as the chosen friend of his life ? Is
it not from the same cause which has led you to select him as the
chosen friend of yours ? Is it not because their frequent inter-
course enabled them to know each well, and is not your attach-
ment the consequence of the same process ? That process, under
the circumstances in which your father placed you, was inevit-
able, I tell you ; and you might as reasonably blame yourself for
being wet under a shower-bath, or scorched in the midst of a fire,
as for loving such a being as Rupert, while constantly associating
with him. It may, according to your notions, be a misfortune,
but you will never persuade me that it is a sin."
Poor Gertrude's eyes had been full of tears when Lucy began
her harangue, but it was with a very sweet smile that die repaid
her eloquence.
FAMILY PEIDE. 319
^'Liicy ! *' she said, after the silence of a minute or two, "I
may i^erhaps have done Rupert no more than justice ; but I have
done less to you."
" How so, dear friend ? " returned the young Countess, taking
her hand, and looking at her very aiiectionately ; "I would not
hear yoiu' enemy say so," she added, with a loving kiss. " In
what have you done me less than justice? "
" I have never given you credit for one half so much eloquence
as you have now displayed," replied Gertrude. " But alas !
alas 1 " she added ; " how dare I trust my judgment upon such a
theme ? There is one point, however, upon which I am quite sure
you are right. You cannot estimate the worth of Eupert Oden-
thal more highly than it deserves. My preference of him beyond
all others whom I have known, may, therefore, be reasonably
defended, and conscientiously excused. But I doubt if this can
in any degree absolve me from the duty I owe to my dear father.
I think, Lucy, that if I were to marry Eupert Odenthal, I should
break my father's heart. I think it would kill him, Lucy;"
and as she said this, tears again started to the eyes of Gertrude.
Lucy did not immediately answer her. It was, indeed, not
easy to do it, if she expressed her opinion honestly, without
doing more harm than good to the cause which she wished to
advocate ; for she really thought it by no means improbable that
if the experiment were tried, the result might prove Gertrude to
be right ; the Countess Adolphe really thought it very possible
that such an event might endanger the life of the baron.
In short, she fixed her eyes upon the carpet, and looked very
grave ; and as a further proof that her admired eloquence had
failed her, she got up to take her leave.
Gertrude rose too, and held out her hand. Lucy received it,
and for a moment held it silently between her own, and then
said, " I must leave you now, my dearest Gertrude, because I
feel that my remaining with you must do you more harm than
good. It is your own heart must be your counsellor, and it is a
difficult case upon which that dear aching heart has to plead . . .
for it is retained on both sides of the question. But I will not
leave you without one other word ; more, however, in the shape
of commentary than of counsel. I think you are right in be-
lieving that the effect of hearing that you were attached to
Eupert, might be very seriously injurious to the health of your
father ; but neither will I conceal from you, that the health of
Eupert gives us great uneasiness. Dr. iS'ieper has seen him acci-
dentally, at our house, and thinks him far from weU. Your
320 gerteude; oe,
position, Gertrude, is a very difficult cue, but we shall do each
other no good by talking of it. I confess I see but one means of
escaping from it . . . and that will not, most assuredly, be aided
by discussing the subject with anyone. The only safety must bo
found in exactly a contrary course. Consult your own heart as
well as your own conscience, Gertrude, and if both the lives
which seem to hang on your decision can be cared for, as they
ought to be, it must be achieved by the secret decision of your
own heart, and your own judgment. You need no confidential
advisers, Gertrude, and it is far better that you should have
none."
Lucy waited for no reply, but kissed the pale cheek of her
friend, and left her.
CHAPTER XLIX.
Ltjcy had not set off on her charitable visit to Schloss Schwan-
berg, without giving her husband a hint that she intended to find
out, if possible, the terms upon which his friend, and her friend,
stood together ; and he watched for her return with some im-
patience. Eut she brought him considerably less intelligence
than he had hoped to receive.
On one point, however, and that certainly, a very important
one, she made a report which he was glad to receive, although it
went no further than to confirm the opinion he had already
formed on the subject.
" Yes, Adolphe 1 " was her prompt reply to the first question
he asked her. *'Yes! We make no mistake about that. Let
llupert love Gertrude as devotedly as heart can love, I feel per-
fectly certain that she requites him."
" Has she told him so ?" demanded Adolphe, eagerly.
" I did not ask her," replied Lucy, with rather a quizzing
smile. '' Pirst," she continued, ** because I did not think it was
a discreet question to ask ; and secondly, because I did not feel
it to be necessary."
" You mean that you discovered the fact, without putting her
to the embarrassment of confessing it," returned her husband.
Then you were quite right to spare the question," he added :
li
fa:mily phtde. 321
''but would it not have been more honest, if you had given the
second reason as number one ? "
"And so put my discretion in the background?" she re-
joined, " AYhen I have told you more, Sir husband, I think it
very probable that you may accuse .me of displaying rather too
much, than too little discretion. All the intelligence I have to
give you is, that I think I left Gertrude more easy at heart than
I found her. For the rest, I do most earnestly, most humbly
advise the most cautious avoidance, on our parts, of everything
in the least degree approaching interference."
Adolphe looked at her with such an expression of comic sur-
prise, that she laughed.
"Thank Heaven!" he exclaimed. "It is, I assure you,
Lucy, an immense comfort to see that your power of laughing
has survived this mysterious visit. The profound gravity with
which you uttered your humble advice rather frightened me.
Eut now that the frigid solemnity of your aspect has begun to
thaw a little, I hope we shall be able to understand each other.
Alas ! poor Gertrude ! " he added, after the pause of a moment;
" I suppose she has been imploring you not to repeat one single
word of what she has said to you. God bless her, poor girl!
She need not be afraid of me. I would help her if I could,
though I do not know very well how to set about it ; but, at any
rate, she need not fear that I should betray her."
" Xor does she, Adolphe!" said Lucy, eagerly. "You have
completely misunderstood me. The caution I enjoined was not
dictated by her judgment, but by mine."
" And what indiscretion do you fear on my part, Lucy? Do
you fancy, dearest, that I am likely to proclaim aloud to all who
may be willing to listen, that I suspect the Baroness Gertrude
von Schwanberg of being enamoured of her noble father's
librarian? "
" JS'onsense, Adolphe! You know I have no such fancy,"
replied his wife, endeavouring to look more light-hearted than
she felt. " All I meant was, that I think the misery of Gertrude
would become incalculably greater than it is, if we either of us
were to utter a word which, by being repeated to her father,
might awaken his suspicion. Your aifection for Eupert might
(perhaps) lead you to speak of him to the baron as a man who
would not disgrace any alliance. And that might prove quite
enough to awaken a suspicion."
" Fear nothing of the kind, Lucy," replied her husband. "I
know the baron much too well to com.mit any such imprudence ;
0 0
322 GEHTPXDE ; or.,
so be easy on that h^acT, you dear, cautious, little soul ! And
tell poor Gertrude to be easy about it, also. It would be bar-
barous to let any unnecessary doubts and fears be added to her
embarrassments. God knows there are few objects to which I
would so readily devote myself as the bringing these two dear
creatures together, as man and wife. Do make her understand
this, Lucy, will you ? "
Lucy remained silent for a moment, and then she very de-
murely replied, '' No, Adolphe. You must excuse me if I decline
saying anything whatever on the subject to Gertrude. J^othing
that I could say would add to the firm conviction which she has
already of our true affection for her ; and I am quite determined
not to allude to the subject of her attachment in any way."
Adolphe looked at her stedfastly, and then performed one of
those elongated, and very impertinent whistles, which indicate
both disapproval and contempt.
*' Then I presume, dearly beloved wife," he said, as soon as
he thought proper to bring his very long whistle to a conclusion ;
" then I must presume that your confidential tete-a-tete- together
was so managed as to lead, if not to an absolute quarrel, at least,
to a pretty decided estrangement."
'■'■ Then you will presume to make a gTcat blunder, my dearly-
beloved husband," replied Lucy ; " and if you were to out- whistle
all the railroads in Europe, and America to boot, you would not
persuade me to doubt for a moment the propriety of the resolution
I have taken. So far from there being any estrangement between
us, I do assure you, Adolphe, that we never parted more affec-
tionately, nor with a more earnest wish to meet again, than we
did to-day. J^iTevertlielcss, I am quite resolved that for the future
I will most scrupulously avoid any allusion whatever to the
attachment which you and I have agreed in thinking existed
between her and your friend, Ptupert Odenthal."
" And pray, Mrs. Mystery, have you any objection to telling
me whether it is your present opinion that we have been mistaken
on this point?" said Adolx)he.
" jS'o, husband. I cannot say that anything which has passed
between Gertrude and myself this morning has led to that con-
clusion," she replied. " Eut the subject is one," she added,
''that ought not to be discussed between us. I have too much
respect for her, and I might say too much reverence for her rec-
titude, and her judgment, to wish to influence her. She must
judge entirely for herself, Adolphe ; and I have a very firm pcr-
Buasion that she will finally ctecide upon doing what is wisest
FAMILY PItlDE. 323
and best both for herself and Eupert. I should be vastly
delighted to congTatiilate them on their marriage .... but till
the proper time for this arrives, she shall never hear the subject
alluded to by me."
'' "Well, my dear, I daresay you are right, though I do not quite
comprehend your tactics," replied xidolphe, with his usual good-
humoured gaiety of tone. " Eut at any rate," he added more
gravely, ''nothing can have passed between you and Gertrude,
which should prevent poor dear llupcrt from having the comfort
and consolation of opening his heart freely to me on the subject.
That we are right in our conjectures respecting the important
fact of Gertrude's attachment to him, you do not, with all your
caution and mystery, deny. This, of itself, is quite sufficient to
justify my talking with him freely on the subject."
Lucy was in general a ready, as well as a rapid speaker, and
by no means in the habit of leaving anyone who addressed her,
to wait long for a reply. Eut now she sat silent, with her eyes
riveted upon her husband, and a considerable augmentation of
colour on her fair cheeks.
Adolphe fixed his eyes upon her in return, for a minute or two,
V\'ith a puzzled look ; but, as she said nothing, he rose from his
chair with a great bound, exclaiming, '' Well ! At least I shall
have the satisfaction now, of talking to Eupert on the subject
without any fear of deluding him into false hopes. I dare-
say he will call before the day is over. Au revoir ! cliere
And having said these words, he quietly turned himself to-
wards the door.
He did not reach it, however, before the hand of Lucy had
seized upon his arm. "My dear, dear Adolphe!" she ex-
claimed, looking very coaxingiy in his face. *' If you were not
the best-tempered man in the world, as well as the most exem-
plary of husbands, I could not dare to make the petition I am
about to do. . . . For I really feel that my interfering between
you and your dearest friend, must appear to be an act of most
detestable presumption. And yet, Adolphe, that is exactly what
I am going to do. I am going to beg and entreat you, to say
nothing whatever to Eupert on the subject of his attachment to
Gertmde."
" You are coming out in a perfectly new character, Lucy,"
replied her husband, looking considerably more grave than was
usual with him.
"Eecause I venture to give you advice, Adolphe?" she re-
22—2
324 gertefde; oe,
plied, cli'opping the arm she had seized upon, and looking still
more solemn than he did himself.
'' No ! " he returned quickly, and throwing his arm round her.
'' I do not mean that, Lucy, I should like to have your advice
now, and always. Eut what puzzles me is your air of mystery.
It is so unlike you."
'' And in what does this mystery consist ? " she replied. '' I
will tell you, Adolphe. It consists solely in my having nothing
to tell you! Confess the truth!" she added, laughing; "you
fancied that after a tete-a-tete with Gertrude, I must come home
full of matter, and he able to tell you exactly on what terms
these lovers stood together. Lovers I do certainly believe they
are, but beyond that I know nothing ; nor will I ever hint a wish
to Gertrude, that she should confide to me anything that she may
wish to conceal. So upon this point, dearest, you will always
find me quite as mysterious as I am at present. Eor my own
part, I am thankful that it is so ! There is no way of keeping a
secret so effectual, as carefully avoiding the knowledge of it."
'' That is a truth, my dear, that I shall not venture to deny,"
he replied, in his usual cheerful tone. " Eut the thing that
puzzles me, Lucy, is not that you should be silent (though there
is certainly something out of the common way in it), but that
you should insist upon my being so likewise. I really think
that the kindest thing I could do for my friend Bupert, would
be the leading him to open his heart to me."
Lucy shook her head. '' It might, perhaps, seem to be the
kindest," she replied, " but I am quite persuaded that it would
not be the wisest. Eut as you have certainly the right to think
yourself a bettei- judge of this question than I can be, I will only
ask you to indulge me in this whim, this notion of mine, for a
very short time."
" And for how many days is this short time to last, Lucy ? "
he replied. " How long must I see this man, whom I love as if
he were my brother, how long must I see him looking as miser-
able as he does now, and growing thinner and more hectic-looking
every day, without giving him the consolation of knowing that I
sec no presumption in his love, and that I fully believe it is re-
turned ? Por what length of time, Lucy, do you mean to insist
upon my withholding this consolation from him ? "
'' Insist! " repeated Lucy, again shaking her head. " That is
not a pretty word, Adolphe ! However, you are, upon the whole,
very condescending, if not perfectly gracious, and I will be
moderate and reasonable in my demands. Moreover, the delay I
FAMILY PEIDE. 325
will ask from you shall be only conditional. All I ask is, that,
just for the present, Rupert should be received here with the
same cheerful welcome as heretofore ; that no allusion should be
made to his altered spirits, or his altered looks. Let this mode
of treatment go on for a week or two, Adolphe ! That is not
very long, you know ! If you will agree to this, on your part,
I will agree on mine to withdraw all restriction on your con-
fidential intercourse, provided that you do not perceive him to
be improving in health and spirits. And in that case, perhaps,
it may not be very long before he opens his heart to you."
'' And in that case, Lucy, I shall be x^erfectly well contented,
whether he opens his heart to me concerning this suspected love
affair, or not. In the mean time, dear little wife, I readily sub-
scribe to your conditions. Moreover, I will be honest enough to
confess, that I think there is some wisdom in your counsel. If
our surmises respecting their attachment be correct, we must
confess, despite all our earnest wishes for its success, that it is a
very thorny and difficult affair, and that, in good truth, our
wishes and good- will cannot do much towards helping them."
Lucy put her loving arms round his neck, very unceremoniously
pulled down his lofty head, and impressed a kiss upon his fore-
head.
" If Gertrude does marry Eupert," she said in a whisper, as
if she were afraid the winds might hear it, " if she does, she will
not have one quarter so charming a husband as I have."
CHAPTER L.
Either from accident, or design, on the part of Gertrude, or
on that of Lucy, or both, no long tete-d-tete meetings took place
between them for some time ; but, nevertheless, their intercourse
was as frequent and as affectionate as ever.
They often dined together, sometimes at the home of the one,
and sometimes at that of the other; but it so happened, that
Madame Odenthal was always of the party.
As to the young men, their intimacy was in no degree less
than heretofore ; but, nevertheless, there seemed to be something
fitful and capricious in the manner of it.
326 gehtrude; oe,
It would, in truth, have been difficult for citlior of tlicm, "when
within reach of the other, not to profit by the vicinity ; for not
only were they attached by the memory and the habits of many
years of youthful friendship, but they had neither of them, as
yet, ever met with any other man equally well qualified to satisfy
both heart and intellect, as companion and friend.
Is'either hard reading nor deep thinking is greatly in fashion
among noble Austriaus ; and such a young man as Adolphe
Steinfeld, would probably have felt himself more at a loss to find
a companion to suit him in the brilliant and crowded salons of
Yienna, than in the remote seclusion of his father's castle, for he
found E-upert Odenthal within reach of him there. •
Improvements of all sorts are going on so raj)idly in this busy
little globe of ours, that we may reasonably hope to see these
elegant salons, at no very distant date, becoming a little more
intellectual, without becoming less graceful. A sprinkling of
Lansdownes, Carlisles, and Lord Johns, would speedily cure the
species of inanity which, if report says true, still lingers in the
perfumed drawing-rooms of this imperial metropolis ; but, as yet,
a man, like Adolphe Steinfeld, who has passed his happiest
hours in reading, thinking, and discussing with a kindred spirit,
themes capable of transporting him, not only bcj'ond the silken
walls of a drawing-room, but a little, too, beyond the boundaries
of this fair globe, called earth, is apt to prefer the forest to the
Prater. And such, in fact, was very decidedly the case with
Count Adolphe von Steinfeld.
Perhaps it was because he had of late found his friend Pupcrt
less prone than formerly to kindle with him into ianimation, at
coming in contact with new trains of thought, that Adolphe just
at this time conceived the project of writing a book; and it was
thus he announced the project to his friend.
" Ptupert ! " said he, as that languid individual "dragged his
long length" into the snug little parlour which Adolphe especially
called his own — " Eupert ! my dear fellow ! I am very especially
glad to see you at this moment, for I have just decided a question
which has for some time been working in my brain . . . . ' To
write, or not to write, that is the question.' And I have, within
the last ten minutes, made up my mind in the affirmative.
Bupert ! I am going to write a book."
" I am very glad to hear it," replied Eupert, with a languid
smile. " And what is the subject ? "
*' The title is to be ' East and AYcst ; or, ]\reditations on the
Days that are Gone, and the Days that are to Come.'
> >>
" A very pregnant theme," rciDlied Eupert, gravely. '' How
clo you mean to treat it ? "
'"' Tlic answer must be ratlicr long, and very pedantic," re-
joined Adolplie. *' It must be treated traditionally, historically,
crilically, and prophetically."
Rupert looked at him earnestly, and something like a gleam of
awakened interest seemed to flash across his countenance for a
moment. " Comprehensive, beyond all Cj[uestion," he returned,
with a smile, somewhat less languid. "What subject is there,
relative cither to Earth or Heaven, which may not fairly find its
place under such a title ? "
''True, Eupert! Perfectly true! And why should we not
write it to2,-ether ? I should never have conceived such an idea,
had not the Schwanberg library been within reach. The good
old baron will trust mo with his volumes more freely than I
should trust him with the inferences I may chance to draw from
them. The prophetic pages, Eupert, might make him wince a
little."
"Xo! " replied the librarian, the transient gleam fading from
his countenance, and a look of the deepest dejection taking its
place. "If he believed in your prophecies at all, Adolphe, he
would place their fulfilment at too distant a date for the chance of
it to give him any annoyance."
The look and the words together made a nearer approach to the
forbidden theme than anything which had passed between them
before ; and Adolphe thought that it would not be very difficult,
by pushing tins allusion to the baron's feelings a little further, to
make poor Eupert lay before him the most sacred secret of his
heart.
Eut Lucy had so earnestly begged him not to do this, and,
in fact, he had so explicitly promised her not to do it, that
he very honourably resisted the temptation, and sufLcred the con-
versation to settle itself on the books which he should first wish
to borrow.
Count Adolphe was quite in earnest when he announced this
intention of writing a book ; and being in earnest, he was by no
means likely to set about the undertaking negligently.
It might be very truly said, in the most important sense of the
phrase, that Eupert had taught Adolphe to read ; and the result of
this teaching was every year becoming more and more apparent,
more and more decided.
Count Adolphe was by nature a man of clear, vigorous, and
healthy intelit-ct j but had he passed the last ten winters of his
328 gehthude; oU,
young life in the salons and boudoirs of Vienna, he would not
now have been contemplating a work stretching from east to
west, and embracing such bold meditations on the days that are
gone, on those days which are yet to come.
As it was, however, he was by no means unfitted for the task.
It may occasionally happen, that meditations fairly deserving the
epithet of deep thinking, may arise spontaneously in a healthful
and active brain, even when unaided ; but such meditations are
marvellously nourished and strengthened by the constant com-
panionship of thoughtful books and thinking men; and Adolphe
was in a great degree what the Schwanberg library and his friend
Rupert had made him.
And Eupert still proved himself the same ready helper now,
and the same earnest and helpful friend ; but he was no longer
the same sympathising fellow- student ; and though all the materiel
for this great work was collected and arranged under his direction,
and by his assistance, poor Adolphe very soon became aware, that
though his learning, and even his reasoning powers, were present,
yet that the spirit was absent.
This discovery put a very speedy stop to the literary labours of
the young Count. The original idea of such an undertaking
probably owed its birth to the notion that Rupert might be led
to take such an interest in it as to conquer the languor which
seemed to have taken possession of his mind, as well as of his
body. Eut it took a very short time to convince the ambitious
young author that if he laboured at all, he must labour alone ;
and, worse still, that if he submitted a deeply meditated page of
the most original thinking to his friend, he would have forgotten
-■ the beginning, before he reached the conclusion of it.
Adolphe's literary enthusiasm was by no means ardent enough
to resist such a check as this ; and the enterprise was quietly
abandoned without a word being spoken to explain, cr even to
announce this change of purpose. But the employment which
had been furnished by preparing notes and references for this
mighty undertaking, had sufficed, while it lasted, to keep Count
Adolj)he's mind so constantly occupied, as to render it a very easy
matter for him to keep his promise to Lucy ; for not only had it
prevented his dwelling upon the much-changed aspect of his
friend, but it so far occupied Rupert himself, as very naturally to
suggest the idea that his condition was improving, and that what-
ever might be his malady, whether of mind or body, he was
better.
Rut scarcely had the ambitious young author resigned himself
FAMILY PBIDE. 829
to his disappointment, and recommenced his former hahits of
reading, instead of writing, than it really seemed as if this
change had wrought a sudden and most complete cure in the
health of his friend. If he had heen better before, he was well
now ; and so sudden and so striking was the improvement, that
he positively began to think that he must himself have been in
some degree the cause of the heavy oppression of spirits under
which his sensitive friend had been suffering.
' ' Lucy ! I do believe I have found out the real source of
Paipert's malady, and what is infinitely more important, I think
he is cured ! "
" I am very glad of it," replied Lucy, with a heightened colour,
and a happy smile.
^' jS'ay, my dear, I don't see why ijou need blush about it,"
returned Adolphe; "though perhaps, when I have told you all,
you may be of opinion that / have cause to blush, though you
have none. I have made no secret to you of the book- writing
vision which has passed over me, but yon do not know the whole
history of it. To the best of my recollection, this nervous
malady (for such it certainly was) began to show itself immedi-
ately after my father left home, and it was very soon after this,
if you remember, that Eupert first began to droop, and show
evident symptoms ; first, of declining spirits, and then of declining
health. You may remember this, but you cannot remember,
because I took care that you should know nothing about it, that
just at the very same time I was brooding by day, and dreaming
by night, of my ridiculous project of writing a book. Did I ever
talk to you about it in my sleep, Lucy ? "
"Certainly not," she replied; "or if you did, my dear," she
added, "it must have been in a very gentle voice, for it never
waked me."
" I am thankful to hear it," resumed Adolphe, very solemnly ;
" for had it been otherwise, I might have brought a nervous fever
upon you, as well as upon poor Rupert."
" But how is it possible, Adolphe, that your notion of writing a
book could have given Eupert a nervous fever ?" she replied. " It
might have produced that efi'ect upon yourself; but I really doubt
if his sympathy could have gone to such an extent as to cause him
a nervous fever."
"That is only because you don't know to what an excess I
tormented him, poor fellow ! " replied her husband. " The proof
that I am right, Lucy, may be found in the fact, that when I
ceased to expatiate on my grand theories, and set him to work on
0 gehtuude; oil,
the mattcT-of-fact process of looking out books for mo, and marking
any particular passages which, he thought might be useful, he
almost immediatelv began to look better."
"Ecally!" said Lucy, gravely. "That is very remarkable."
"Decidedly, it is very remarkable," rejoined her husband;
" and so remarkable, that it seems strange you should not have
observed it. Did you not observe that the last time we dined at
Schwanberg ho was vastly more cheerful and conversable than we
have lately seen him?"
"Yes, I did perceive it," returned Lucy; "and if I did not
say anything about it, the reason, probably, was, that I thought
his improved looks, and greater cheerfulness, might be only acci-
dental. It might have been produced, you know, merely by the
circumstance of our dining there."
" It was more likely to have been produced by the circumstance
of my having ceased to plague him about my confounded book,"
said Adolphe. " Dut, my dear child, the improvement you
remarked tlien, is not worth mentioning in comparison to what
you may see now. And I can explain the reason of that, too ;
though the doing so, gives a painful pinch to my vanity. But
the real truth is, Lucy, that I announced to him in good set terms,
a few days ago, that I had abandoned my writing scheme alto-
gether ; and I give you my word of honour, that I have never seen
a melancholy expression upon his features since."
" Well, Adolphe ! " replied his wife, with every appearance of
being perfectly satisfied, " I am sure you will easily forgive and
forget the pinch to your vanity, and only remember the comfort
of seeing poor, dear Eupert look like himself again."
CHAPTER LI.
The return of the widower Count von Steinfeld to his paternal
mansion was still delayed ; and as a beautiful autumn was begin-
ning to fade into something very like gloomy winter, both Count
Adolphe and his young wife began to think that the wide old
house, with its multitude of useless rooms and long galleries,
would be but a melancholy winter residence ; and the more so, as
Lucy was not in very strong health, and quite unable to enjoy
ITAIIILY PETDE. 33 1
the riding and walking, wliioh. constitute so lai'ge a proportion of
country amusement. The old Count was at Yienna, and as he
had more than once expressed a very earnest wish that they
should join him there, Adolphe began to think that it would he
both dutiful and agreeable to comply with his request.
Upon the arrival of a letter in which this proposal was very
strongly urged, and backed with the assurance, that he had just
seen excellent apartments, amply sufiicient to accommodate them,
at no great distance from his own ; the last shadow of reluctance
at the idea of leaving the home he loved, seemed to vanish from
the mind of Adolphe, and he said, "Lucy, I should like to go,
and I should like to show you Yienna. Do you think you are
well enough to undertake such a journey ? "
"Adolphe ! " she replied, " if you really wish to go, how comes
it that you have never told me so before ? I quite agree with you
in thinking that this grand old mansion will be much less agree-
able in the winter than the summer. And as to the journey, I
think it will do me a great deal of good. All the country is new
to me, and I don't want to travel through it full galop. Why
did you not tell me before, Adolphe, that you wished to go ? "
"Because I knew that in that case you would have said yea,
however much you might have preferred saying nay. It is only
since the arrival of this last letter, that I began to think that you
would really like it too."
" You are an accurate observer, my dear Adolphe. It is only
since the arrival of this last letter, that I have o-ealhj wished to
go. You will not, I presume, be much surprised when I tell you
that I have a very great affection for the Baroness Gertrude ; and
my affection for her will prove a great deal more constant than
yours did ; for I am quite sure that I shall never be cured of it,
not even if the old baron, as in your case, were to quote the
'Almanack de Gotha' to me, in proof that I had no right to love
her at all. In short, Adolphe, she is my only real sister, and if
she were my twin, I do not think I could love her better. But
you look as if you did not comprehend why this sisterly affection
should influence my wishes respecting the going to Yienna, or
remaining here."
" Then my looks are very honest lool>:S, Lucy," he replied,
" and they speak the exact truth. I do not see what this very
natural and praiseworthy affection has to do with our complying
with my father's request."
Lucy looked at him earnestly for a moment, to ascertain
whether his total ignorance of her wishes were real, or feigned j
oo
32 GtRiETJDE; on,
but she speedily became conTinced that there was no feigning in
the matter, and that if she wished to be understood, she must
explain herself distinctly.
''The truth is, Adolphe," she said at length, ''that there is
nothing in the world I should like so much as taking her with
us."
" Take the Bareness Gertrude to Vienna, and leave the baron
without her?" exclaimed Adolphe, in unfeigned astonishment.
" My dearest Lucy ! I should be delighted to let you have your
wish gratified, if I belieyed it possible ; but I feel about equally
certain, that neither the father nor daughter would consent to
the separation. I should have thought that you must have
known as well as I do, that the baron was never separated from
her for twenty-four hours together."
" Yes. I know," replied Lucy, coloming ; " I know perfectly
well that they are devoted to each other. Eut, perhaps, you will
not think me so um^easonable, when I tell you that Gertrude is
in great want of the services of a really skilful dentist ; and
Vienna, you know, is famous in this respect. j\Iadame Odenthal
says, that her only chance of saving one of her beautiful front
teeth, which has a very threateaing spot upon it, is by going to
Vienna, and having it properly attended to."
" Well, dear wife, I leave the whole affair entirely to you,"
returned Adolphe ; "I am sure I need not tell either you or
Gertrude, that I should be delighted to have such an addition to
our party. Eut when did you first form the wish of taking her
with you, Lucy ? Has this defect in her splendid teeth only
been cliscbvered now ? "
" You mean to allude to my indifference about going to Vienna
at all?" returned Lucy. "Eut I can easily explain that,
Adolphe. From your father's first letter on the subject of our
I'oining him, I thought he was inviting us to take up our abode
in the same house with him, and I could not think of taking the
liberty of proposing an additional guest. Eut this last letter
says, you know, that he has seen apartments that will suit us ;
and as this, of course, indicates a distinct residence, I can have
the great delight of my friend's society, without producing any
inconvenience to him."
" That is quite true, Lucy. And as houses are often said to
be elastic in accordance to the wishes and will of the mistress, I
have no doubt that you will find means to accommodate our fair
friend, although my father's letter only states that these apart-
ments will suffice for us."
FAilILT PRIDE.
333
'^ 'SVhcve there is a will, there is a way," replied Lncy, gaily.
*' I have no doult that we shall make ourselves exceediugly
comfortable."
" And pray, my dear, do you mean to undertake the task of
proposing this startling scheme to the baron ? " he added.
'' Yes, Adolphe ! " she very boldly answered. *' I do not mean
to insinuate that he is as much in love with me as he was with
my sister Arabella," she continued; "but nevertheless, I think
I have influence enough to obtain his consent to it."
" I should not be at all surprised if he were to propose to go
too," rejoined her husband, with a very comic expression of dis-
may on his countenance.
" Set your heart at ease on that point," replied Lucy, laughing
heartily,^ *' if he were to hint at such a proposal, I would tell
him candidly that yon were of too jealous a disposition to make
such a scheme desirable."
'' And Pvupert ? what will reconcile poor Eupert to such a
barbarous proposal?" said Adolphe, very gravely. "You are
one of the kindest-hearted little angels in the world," he added;
*' but surely you are very thoughtless ! "
'' Eemcmber our resolution, Adolphe," returned his wife.
*' Eemember that we agreed not to interfere in any way between
them in reference to their supposed attachment. If the invitation
I wish to give Gertrude is, for any reason, such as it would be
painful to her to accept, be very sure that she has savoir faire
enough to decline it, without betraying to me any secrets which
she may wish to conceal."
'' Set off, then, and make the proposal," said Adolphe, seizing
the bell-rope. ''I am going to order the carriage for you at
once, Lucy. You are such an impetuous, self-willed little
creature, that it is lost labour to talk common sense to you. But
I confess I shall feel considerable curiosity to learn the success
of your enterprise. Shall we have a bet, Lucy ? I will bet you
five to one that the baroness declines yoiu' invitation. Will you
take it ? "
" Yes ! " she replied, promptly, but immediately added, with a
considerable augmentation of colour, "no, I will not make any
bet upon the subject. If Gertrude refuses to go with us, the
disappointment will be quite mortification enough for me, with-
out my losing a bet."
Ko farther time was lost in discussion. Horses, carriage,
bonnet, and cloak were all promptly supplied, and the young
Countess set off on her expedition.
334 GERTurDE; os,
The reader is already too well aware of the sincere auection
which subsisted between the Baroness Gertrude and the Conntess
Adolphe, for it ta be at all necessary that I should, describe at
any great length the scene v»'hich passed between them upon this
occasion. It was very soon evident to the kind-hearted Lucy
that her friend was very well disposed to accept her invitation ;
but they neither of them forgot that whatever readiness there
might be on the part of Gertrude, she was not sufSciently a free
a^ent to crive a definitive answer before she had consulted her
father.
" Go to him, then, immediately! " said the eager Lucy, '-'and
let me know his reply before I return home."
Gertrude shook her head. She had been too long accustomed
to the slow and ponderous movements of her father's mind, to
wish that her friend should remain waiting for the result.
" But Adolphe will be so much disappointed if I return to him
before the question is settled ! " exclaimed Lucy. " Let me
wait," she added, coaxingly. " Here are books enough, without
going beyond your sofa, Gertrude, to amuse me much longer
than it is possible your father can detain you, while he is weigh-
ing the comparative advantages of saying yes or no."
But the Baroness Gertrude probably knew considerably better
than her friend, the length of time which it was not only possible,
but probable, her father might take before delivering his answer,
or, at any rate, before there was the least chance of his having
said all that he might wish to say on the subject. After fondly
and very gratefully embracing her, therefore, she saw her drive
from the cloor, before she turned her anxious and not unembar-
rassed steps to the apartment where her father was sitting.
Father Alaric and the backgammon-board were both ready for
use before him, but both were immediately dismissed as soon as
Gertrude made her appearance, the baron condescendingly bend-
ing his head to his anointed friend, as he hinted to him that if
he wished for an interval of holy meditation in the chapel of the
castle, he could not find a better opportunity for it ; adding,
*' I will let you know, my good father, by the entrance of one of
my people into the chapel, as soon as I find myself again at
leisure to receive you."
iiZLiLY rrjDE. 335
CnAPTEPv LII.
'' I AM going to fisk a very great favour of you, my clear father,"
said Gertrude, Lending over him, "but I feel quite sure you
Avould grant it, if you could understand how much I wish lor
it."
" Then I am sure I shall not refuse it, my dear," said the old
gentleman, kissing her. " Sit down in your own place here,
close to me, and tell me what it is."
" You are always so kind to me, my dearest father," resumed
Gertrude, " that I do not much fear you will refuse me, but yet
I think that it is possible you may feel surprised at my request,
for it is one quite unlike any which I ever made you before. I
want you, dear father, to consent to ray going for a few weeks,
or it may be for a month or two, to Vienna, with the Count and
Countess Adolphe. She is very anxious that I should go with
her, and I must confess that I do feel a very great wish to go."
" And it is very natural that you should wish to see such a
metropolis as Yienna, my dear child," replied the baron, who, to
say the truth, was so constantly in the habit of admiring and
approving every word his daughter uttered, that he would have
experienced great difficulty in finding any fitting phrase which
could have expressed a difierent feeling.
" I told our friend, Lucy, that I knew you were too kind to
refuse me," returned Gertrude, affectionately kissing his fore-
head.
"To be sure," said the old man, pondering, "it will seem
rather strange to me at first, Gertrude. But as you will be stay-
ing with the Count and Countess von Steinfeld, you will not re-
quire such a suite as was necessary when we made our excursion,
to Paris. You will not think it necessary to be attended by my
secretary?"
Poor Gertrude coloured violently ; but it mattered not, for the
eyes of the meditative baron were fixed upon the carpet while
deciding in his own mind the equally important question as to the
possibility of her also dispensing with the services of Madame
OdenthaL But all his anxiety upon this really very important
question was speedily removed by Gertrude's laughing gaily, as
336 GEnxrvrDE; on,
slie replied, ^'"No, no! clear papa! I must have no suite of my
own, you know, if you trust me to the protection of our clear
Countess."
" Then you do not wish to take Madame Odenthal with you,
my dear ? " said the baron, with very unwonted eagerness of
manner.
*'It would be quite impossible to think of it," replied his
daughter, very gravely, and in a tone which plainly indicated
that such a proposal would be a breach of etiquette. " If we
decide, my dear father, that the Countess von Steinfeld is a
proper chaperone for me, my taking any one else in the same
capacity would not only be unnecessary, but uncivil."
"I daresay you are right, my clear. Ladies understand
things of this nature very much better than gentlemen. Then
you do not propose, my dear," he continued, "to take any of
my people with you, excepting your own maid?"
" ^ay, papa, I do not even propose to take her. I shall be
w^aited upon entirely by that excellent person whom the Countess
calls 'jN^urse I^Torris.' I have taken a great affection for her.,
And besides, I do not think that there will be any room for
Teresa."
*' As to all that sort of thing, my dear child," returned the
baron, ' ' I shall by no means interfere, for I consider you to be a
much better judge of such questions than it is possible for me to
be. But there is another point, my beloved child, upon which I
feel that it is my especial duty to speak. Though I am quite
aware," he continued, with great dignity, ''though I am per-
fectly aware that jiersons of my rank arc, generally speaking,
much longer lived than the great majority of ordinary individuals,
yet I am, nevertheless, not insensible to the fact, that I myself,
in common, however, with emperors and kings, am growing old.
*' Old is, indeed, a word." he resumed, after allowing himself
a short pause for reflection; ^' old is a word which ought pro-
perly to be only applied to persons of inferior station ; at least,
it does not recur to my memory, that I have ever beard such a
phrase as ' great old man,' whereas ' poor old man ' is perpetually
repeated. But, nevertheless, though I am, I trust, in no way
ungrateful to Providence for the many special blessings graciously
bestowed on ^nysell', and to the class whereunto I belong, it would
partake of the nature of falsehood, were I to deny that I am
conscious of increasing age. It is this consciousness, my beloved
Gertrude, which causes me so cordially to approve the plan you
now propose. I am perfectly aware that your position in life is
FAMILY rrjDE. GO 7
siicli as to render the great retirement of my ancestral castle ob-
jectionable, if not varied by occasional absence, but I am fully
aware also, my dear child, that I owe it to myself, and to my
exalted station in life, not to expose my health to any unneces-
sary risk ; and for that reason I am extremely well pleased that
yon should take advantage of the opportunity now offered you,
of seeing Yienna, and all the splendour of the court and capital,
without my risking my health to obtain it for you."
Long as this speech was, Gertrude listened to every syllabic of
it with pleasure, and a pleasure, too, that was quite unexpected.
She knew her father's unbounded indulgence too w^ell, to expect
any very vehement opposition to her wishes ; but his declaring
himself so cordially pleased by the scheme, was certainly beyond
her hopes.
Having again embraced, and thanked him cordially for his
ready acquiescence in her plan, she was about to leave him ; but
he stopped her, by saying, " You must not go yet, my dearest
Gertrude ; I have more to say to you, and that too, on a subject
most important. Y^ou will, doubtless, easily guess my dear child,
that I allude to the probability of your being addressed, it may
be by many persons, with proposals of marriage. AYe must,
doubtless, both of us, be aware that this subject has been made
painful to us by the disgraceful conduct of an individual whose
name has never, I believe, passed our lips since we turned away
from the city which he disgraced by his residence ; and I only
allude to him now, in order to account for the wisli which I am
about to express to you, and that is, that you would make me a
solemn promise not to receive, or listen to proposals of marriage
from anyone, however high his rank, or however large his
revenue, without first referring him to me. Y^ill you consent to
give me this promise, my dearest Gertrude ? "
It was not till after a momentary silence, that this appeal was
answered. The eyes of Gertrude, which had before been affec-
tionately fixed on the face of the baron, now sought the ground,
and her colour was again very perceptibly heightened.
" Do you fear to give me this promise, my dear child ? " said
the old gentleman, looking at her with great surprise.
'' jSTo, father! no ! " said she, as if suddenly recovering from a
fit of absent musing. " I have no such fear ! and I do promise
you, and very solemnly too, that I will not listen to any proposal
of marriage from anyone, however high in rank, or however rich
in fortune."
" I^ut do not mistake me, my dear child," returned the fond
e-"^
3 GElllEtDE; OE,
fatlier, drawing her tenderly towards him ; " you must not sup-
pose, Gertrude, that I am so unreasonable as to wdsh that you
should always remain single ; but whenever the important event
of your marriage does take place, it must not only be with my
consent, but with a very perfect assurance on my part that the
individual is worthy, in all respects, of the honour and happiness
to which he aspires."
*' I have given the promise, dear father, and I consider it as a
very solemn one, that I will listen to no proposal of marriage."
" Unless backed by my consent, my dear Gertrude, that is the
condition upon which I ask for your promise ; and depend upon
it, ray consent will be only given upon a full knowledge that the
bii-th, fortune, and character of the individual arc such as to
justify his addressing my daughter."
A silent kiss was the only answer given to this important
assurance ; and then she said, " I must leave you now, my dear,
kind father, because I have promised my friend Lucy not to keep
her in supense, but to dispatch a messenger to her as soon as I
had received your answer."
*' Quite right, my dear, quite right; I do not wonder that she
should be anxious for my decision. It will be no trifling addition
to the consequence of the young Countess von Steinfeld, that she
should be accompanied to court by the daughter and heiress of
Earon von Schwanberg. Eut I wish that your note should con-
vey to her the assurance, that I know no other chaperone to
whom I would so willingly trust you."
This message was worth another kiss, and it was paid ; but
Gersrude had still to be detained a few minutes, while the baron
inquired whether ITadame Odenthal had been made acquainted
with this intended excursion ?
"Oh, no, papa! " replied Gertrude, with great sincerity; *'I
had no wish to name it to her, till I had your permission to con-
sider myself as one of the party."
" You were quite right, my dear, as, in fact, you always are,
Gertrude ; a pre-eminence, under the blessing of heaven, we owe
to your so decidedly inheriting these qualities of my character
which are to be considered as the special mark of the race from
which I have sprung. Few daughters, especially while still so
young, have ever accorded so perfectly in opinion with a father, "
as you do with me. That this is the effect of the immediate in-
tervention of Providence, it would be a sin to doubt ; and it is
one of those especial manifestations of the Virgin's favour, for
which I have instructed Father Alaric to return especial thanks.
fa:j:ily pride. 339
Xow, then, leave me, my noLle Gertrude, and let Madame
Odenthal be made to understand that I wish for, and expect, her
immediate presence here."
Had not Grertrude known her father as thoroughly as in truth
she did, it is probable that she might have been tempted to re-
lieve her over-full heart, by communicating to her ever-loved
Madame Odenthal the expedition which she had in view ; but
this would have been defrauding the baron of his promised share
in the business. The contrast between his vast conceptions of
his own magnificence, and the miniature nature of the nutriment
with which he fed it, was often very ludicrous.
The being the first to whom all news was communicated, and
all gossip reported, ranked very high among the privileges which
he enjoyed ; and the having to announce to Madame Odenthal
the news of Gertrude's proposed excursion, made him feel much
as a pompous Minister of State might do, if announcing to the
cabinet news that was not only important, but of which he was
the sole repository.
Gertrude's first care was, as she had truly said it would be, to
dispatch a note to her friend Lucy, communicating the very satis-
factory result of her petition to her father ; and ha'sing done this,
and ascertained that Madame Odenthal was still with the baron,
she turned her steps towards the library.
CHAPTER Lin.
It is probable that the Baroness Gertrude expected to find
Hupert alone in the library, and if so, she was neither disap-
pointed nor surprised. He was seated in his accustomed chair,
and at his accustomed table, but in all other respects, he was as
unlike the Ilupert of former days, as the bright sun rising amidst
the radiant splendour of a summer morning, is to the same orb
when sinking into the clouds and darkness of a winter night.
As she opened the door, he started, and turned round, and for a
moment remained without rising, probably in order to ascertain,
beyond the reach of doubt, that no one accompanied, or was
immediately about to follow her. But, before she had advanced
23—2
340 GEnTnrDE; oe,
three steps into the room, the metamorphosed Paipcrt was at her
feet.
"You have seen him, my Gertrude? You have told him of
your wish? " he said, looking iu her face with an aspect as nearly
approaching adoration as '' any mortal mixture of Earth's mould "
could reasonably wish to inspire.
*' Yes, dearest Eupert ! " she replied. *' Leave has been asked,
and granted — most kindly granted ; and, so far, all is well. But I
almost begin to doubt my own courage, Eupert ! How can I bear
to leave you all ? . . . My poor, dear father ! He is getting both
old and infirm ; and how do I know — how do I ever dare to hope,
with such sanguine security, that I shall ever see him again ?
How can I leave him ? How can I leave you all ? "
As she uttered this, her head di'ooped dejectedly on her breast,
and she burst into tears.
** You should not attempt it, my beloved Gertrude," he replied,
" were your friend Lucy less devoted to you, or even if she were
less urgent in her entreaties that you should accompany her.
Everybody, as she truly says, has been remarking that you do not
look well, Gertrude ; and change of air and scene, you know, is
universally considered as beneficial to the health. Lucy will be
a true sister to you, and my friend Adolphe, who does not yet
know how much of his 'Almanack de Gotha' adventure he owes
to you, will be all kindness ! Think of all this, sweet love, and
of fifty other reasons besides, if we had but time to rehearse them,
and you will become better reconciled to the excursion."
*' You are a man, Eupert, and a very wise one ; and I (Heaven
help me ! ) am only a woman, and not wise at all. iN'evertheless,
I will really and truly try to behave as well as I can."
Having said this, as cheerfully as her trembling voice could be
made to utter it, she sat herself down on the sofa, and made
Eupert place himself beside her.
" My dear father, and your dear mother, Eupert, are holding a
conference, which, I daresay, will last a good while, so I think
you must prepare to hear a little more of my moaning, because
the opportunity is so favourable for it. Just think, dearest friend,
of all that I must leave behind ! What will become of me when
I have no longer the power of seeing you, and hearing you repeat
again and again that you have always loved me, even through
the long years during which my morning and evening penance
was ever and always the repetition of the killing words — ^he loves
me not ? ' Who knows that I may not fall back into the same
mournful monody ? Perhaps, Eupert, I may repeat it fj'om the
FA5IILY rrjDE. 341
mere force of habit And who huows, clearest, but I may-
die, listeninG; to mv own wailiuo: ? "
She looked pale, and her eyes were full of tears ; and yet there
was something almost playful in the manner in which "^she thus
exaggerated the doleful anticipations of the future. But, neither
in jest nor earnest, would he permit them ; hut painted with so
much touching energy, and so much tender truth, the improve-
ment of their mutual condition since the blessed accident of Miss
Arabella's love-fit had opened the way to mutual confidence, that,
before Madame Odenthal re-entered the library, he had brought
her to confess that, notwithstanding her meanings, she was very-
much happier now than she had ever been before, during the
whole course of her life.
JS^or did her naturally firm spirit again fail her.
Madame Odenthal seemed, fortunately, very much to approve
her taking this excursion. She had recognised so many excellent
qualities in Lucy (which, with insular partiality, she was pleased
tocall ''perfectly English''), that she declared she knew no one
with whom she could see her set off on an excursion with more
entire satisfaction.
" It is very right and fitting, my dear," said the good woman,
" that you should see a metropolis so celebrated for its beauty and
fashion as Vienna ; and I really think it is about equally fitting
that your good father should not again be tempted to leave the
peculiar habits of life to which he has been so long accustomed,
and every variation from which is, I know, a source of positive
suff'ering to him. He married a lady so very much younger than
himself, that he was for many years considered to be a man much
younger than he really was; and, naturally enough, he seemed to"
fall into the same pleasant mistake himself. But now, my dear
Gertrude, he certainly begins to be conscious that he is an old
man, and very evidently prefers staving at home, to coino-
abroad." » & c,
_''And you, my dear maternal friend, will, I well know, con-
trive to make that home so happy to him, that he will not miss
me so much as he would have done in former days, when our
greatest mutual delight was riding together. I have heard him
say repeatedly, within the last few months, that he did not think
that he should ever mount again," replied Gertrude.
''And what do you mean to do about Teresa, my dear?" said
Madame Odenthal, with a look and voice that manifested consi-
derable interest in the question. '*Is it your intention to take
her with vou?"
342 GEiiTr.uLE; OE,
''I rather think not," replied Gertrude, carelessly. ''I really
do not think I shall want her. Madame do Steinfeld assures me
that the old servant who has lived with her so long, is a most
accomplished lady's-maid."
" Indeed, I think you have decided very wisely, my dear," was
Madame Odcnthal's reply. ''Teresa," she added, "is in many
respects a very good servant, hut I cannot deny that she is a great
gossip, which is just the very most disagreeable thing that any
visitor can take into a family."
"Yes," rexDlicd Gertrude, after the silence of a moment;
*'I certainly think she has a strong propensity to idle talk-
ing."
At this point of the conversation, Gertrude took up a book
which lay near, and soon appeared to be completely occupied by
it. For a few minutes she was allowed to do so without inter-
ruption, but then Madame Odenthal called her attention, by
saying, "Then I suppose, my dear, that you intend to dismiss
Teresa before you leave home ? "
Gertrude took a moment or two to think before she replied, and
then she said, " l!^o ! I do not think I shall like to do that, Madame
Odenthal, because I do not think she deserves it. She has been
a very good servant to me, and I scarcely know how I can send
her away without injustice."
" I am afraid that she may say something reproachful and
vexing, when you tell her that you are going to Vienna, but that
you do not intend to take her with you," replied Madame Oden-
thal. " I wish you would let me perform the task of telling her
this."
"You are very kind, my dear friend, to volunteer thus to per-
form a task which, I am quite aware, must be disagreeable ; and,
I fear, it is very selfish in me to accept your offer. Nevertheless,
I do accept it, and I confess it is a relief to me to be spared this
task."
" It shall be done at once, my dear Gertrude," replied Madame
Odenthal ; "for the news of your intended departure will be sure
to fly from Schloss Steinfeld to Schloss Schwanberg with wonder-
ful rapidity ; and it is far better that she should learn the whole
arrangement from me, than that she should come to me to make
inquiries concerning it."
And, having said this, Madame Odenthal impressed a fond kiss
upon the forehead of Gertrude, and left her.
The place chosen by the kind ambassadress as the scene of this
interview, was the bed-room of the young baroness, for she knew
FAMILY rfilDE. 3-13
that a bell rung from thence, wonld immediately bring Teresa.
And so it proved.
'' Is my lady here ? " was the question by which the conversa-
tion opened, and it was certainly asked in a tone which seemed to
imply that if she were not, Madame Odenthal's right to ring the
bell was a very doubtful one.
"No, Teresa. The baroness is not here," replied the dame de
compagnie, seating herself on the sofa which stood at the bottom
of the bed; '*it is I who wish to speak to you."
"Well, ma'am," returned the waiting-maid, assuming an atti-
tude that seemed prepared either for going or staying, as the case
might be.
"I rang for you, Teresa, that I might let you know that you
must get ready a moderate-sized travelling-trunk, and fill it with
all that will be most wanted for the baroness on her first arriving
at Vienna, where she is going with the Count and Countess
Adolphe von Steinfeld."
" My lady going to Vienna, and not to tell me of it, herself! "
exclaimed Teresa, with an aspect which very evidently threatened
rebellion ; "I don't believe a word of it ! "
Madame Odenthal never forgot that she was the humble sister
of the humble Father Alaric, and, moreover, the pensioned com-
panion of the Baroness Gertrude ; but she remembered also, that
such authority had been delegated to her, as ought, if properly
exercised, to keep the household in good order, without giving
their young mistress the trouble of interfering in the matter ; and
it was, therefore, with the tone and manner of one who expected
to be obeyed, that she replied to this uncivil speech, " Leave the
room, Teresa."
The waiting-maid was not without her good qualities, but a
gentle temper was not one of them ; and she signified her inten-
tion of remaining where she was, by stoutly saying, "I shall do
no such thing."
ISo person, holding the situation which Madame Odenthal
filled in such an establishment as that of Schloss Schwanberg,
could have retained her authority so long, and at the same time so
smoothly, had she always been as ready to resent a hasty word, as
she showed herself on the present occasion. " You will not only
leave the room, but the house, Teresa, if you speak to me in that
manner," said Madame Odenthal, with great sternness. " I am
to be left in charge of the household," she added ; " but I should
scarcely accept the office, if the servants behaved as you are be-
having now."
ii GERTRUDE ; OT.,
*' At aiiyrale, you need not. trouble yourself by any fears about
my behayiour," replied Teresa, with a saucy sneer ; " for wher-
ever my lady is, there, of course, I shall be too ; and Yienna is
far enough off for us both to snap our fingers at the other, with-
out any danger to either of us."
"Eut you are quite mistaken, Teresa," replied Ivladame Oden-
thal, "if you suppose that your young lady intends to take you
with her to Yienna. She has just told me that she shall do no
such thing."
" Then they must find bars, and bolts, and chains, too, if they
intend to keep me here till she comes back. I don't deserye to
be treated so, and I won't bear it," returned the deeply-incensed
waiting-maid, with a yery alarming augmentation of colour ;
" and since you haye chosen to make yourself the go-between, I
advise you to tell my young lady. . . . Eut no ! I will not send
her any message at all. It is a great deal better that I should
see her myself. She neyer used to treat me in this manner, and
therefore I am quite sure that I haye got some ill friend at
court."
" Y^ell, then, Teresa, go to her," said Madame Odenthal, yery
quietly. " I assure you I haye no wish to preyent you ; on the
contrary, I shall much prefer it. Only I hope you will not for-
get yourself, and speak disrespectfully to her, for my lord the
baron will certainly hear of it, if you do."
" Trust me, Madame Odenthal, for knowing how to manage
my own affairs," replied Teresa. " You need not give yourself
any trouble about me. If my lady does go to Yienna, you may
depend upon it that I shall go too. . . . And if I do 7wt, why
then you may depend upon it, that I won't stay half-an-hour in
this stupid old castle after she has turned her back upon it."
" Perhaps you are right, Teresa, though what you say would
haye a better effect if your manner were more civil. Nothing
would be more easy, you know, than for you to come back after
her return, if she wishes to haye you ; and, to tell you the truth,
I would much rather you did not remain here during her
absence."
Although there was nothing like positiye anger in. the tone
and manner in which this was said, it had so much less of friend-
liness than was usual in the kind-hearted English-woman's
accustomed mode of addressing the servants, that it really seemed
as if she Avished to have a little fracas with tlie yexed and dis-
appointed Teresa.
For a minute or two, Madame Odenthal, who had risen from
FAMILY rrjDE. 315
her cliair, stood tesiilc tlie door, as if waiting for her ; iipoa
which, Teresa, rather fiercely knitting her brows, said, '' I don't
want yonr hclj), Madame Odenthal. ... I suppose my lady and
I may speak together, withont being watched by you ? "
" I am not quite sure that I think so," replied the old lady,
gravely. " The Baroness Gertrude," she continued, ''has never
been exposed to any impertinence from her servants, and I do
not wish that she should see such looks, or hear such language
from you, as I have now done."
" And how will your being present prevent it ? " returned the
angry Teresa. " Do you think the sight of you will put me in
good humour ? Eut I will prove to you at once, Madame Oden-
thal, that I am not afraid of you, so come along this very present
time. The sooner the question is settled, the better."
Madame Odenthal said nothing in reply, but proceeded im-
mediately to the room where she had left the baroness, and was
followed by Teresa.
If it was the wish of Gertrude's maternal friend that this inter-
view should terminate in the final dismissal of the offending;
waiting-maid (and the very unusual severity of her manner to-
wards her seemed to indicate that such was indeed her wish), the
scheme answered perfectly ; for the temper of the unlucky
souhrette was already so much irritated, that the quiet avowal of
Gertrude that she certainly was going to Yienna, but certainly
did not intend to be accompanied by her, was more than she could
listen to with decorum, and the interview had not lasted long,
before she was desired to leave the room.
The unfortunate young woman stood for a moment with her
hand upon the half-open door, as if expecting a recal ; but no
recal came, and poor Teresa had to announce to the next assem-
blage of the household in the servants' hall, that her mistress
was going to set oif for Yienna without her ; and what was, if
possible, more extraordinary still, she had given her warning for
good, and all for no other reason in the wide world, except that
she had not treated old Mother Odenthal as much like an Arch-
Luchess as she chose to be treated.
That she, probably, had herself been treated rather more
harshly than she really deserved, may be inferred from the fact,
that a very handsome gratuity was left for her in the hands of
Madame Odenthal, which that kind-hearted person secretly
doubled from her own purse, and then presented to her with
many kind wishes before she left the house.
*' AYell, I won't denv that the old Englishwoman has a kind
346 GEETHrDE; oe,
lioart at "boUoni," was tlie commentary of the Gx-wailing maitl,
whoii discussing; this tcimination of her service with tlie house-
liold, before taking leave of them; ''but one might tliink she
had been a spoiled child, she is so unaccountably whimsical.
She docs not seem to know her own mind for two days together."
CHAPTEE LIY.
Ko journey could be freer from accidents, or contretemps of any
kind, than was that of the Count and Countess Adolphe, and
their friend the Baroness Gertrude ; and thcv reached Vienna on
the third day after setting off, with as little fatigue, and as much
gratification from fine weather and fine country, as reasonable
people could desire.
They found that the Count von Steinfcid had said no more in
praise of the agreeable apartments he had secured for them than
they well deserved ; nor was the addition of Gertrude to the
party productive of the least inconvenience ; for the Count Stein-
I'eld, like many others, was strongly persuaded, that tJie J^nglish
w^ere considerably more difficult to please in all matters of per-
sonal accommodation than all the other nations of the earth put
together, and had therefore, in choosing apartments for his pretty
daughter-in-law, Lucy, so far exceeded what was needful for her,
as to provide what was amply sufficient for her,' and for her friend
likewise.
"Who can enter Vienna for the first time, and not feel a sen-
sation of delight at its aspect ! To Adolphe, of course, it was
not new, but it was the metropolis of his country, and he was as
much delighted by the effect it produced on his fair companions,
as if he had himself been looking at it for the first time.
He was delighted too at all the attentive preparations which
had been made for their reception, and not a little pleased like-
wise, at perceiving that the depression of spirits under which his
father had laboured when leaving home, had altogether vanished;
for no widowed father of a married son ever looked more young,
handsome, and dehonnain', than did the Count Steinfeld, when he
came to welcome the travellers on their arrival.
It speedily became evident that he expected the young party
FA^riLY rr.TDE. 347
wlio had joined lilm to enter with zeal, at least equal to his own,
into all the fascinating dissipations of that prettiest of capitals ;
but in this he was mistaken. The ladies drove about with great
perseverance, saw everything, and admired every tiling ; but
when Lucy's gay and handsome young father-in-law began to
talk of introductions, presentations, and visitings, which were
immediately to take place, and which would be followed, he
assured her, by his having the happiness of seeing herself, and
her beautiful friend, become the most admired ornaments of the
courtly circle to which he meant to have the honour of intro-
ducing them, he was startled and astonished by the assurance
that they neither of them intended to enter into society at all.
So astonishing, indeed, did this determination appear to him,
that it was some time before they could persuade him that they
were really in earnest ; and it was only when his son hinted to
him, that he was again in hopes of his wife's presenting him, at
no very distant day, with an heir to the family honours and
estates, that the juvenile grandfather could be induced to with-
draw his opposition to so melancholy a proposal.
But even after he had made up his mind, as all noble fathers-
in-law do upon such occasions, that it was perfectly right and
proper the Countess Adolphe should stay at home, and take care
of herself, he still expressed his hope of being permitted to intro-
duce some eligible chaperone to the Baroness Gertrude, who
might have the honour and happiness of presenting her to the
Empress, and to all other ladies of high distinction in Vienna.
But to this very kind and very proper proposal, the Baroness
Gertrude would not listen, assuring Count Steinfeld, that her
present visit to the capital was not intended to be one of gaiety,
but of friendship ; while at the same time, she begged him to
believe, that, under other circumstances, she should be most
happy to put herself entirely under his guidance.
'' Well then, my fair baroness," replied the amiable widower,
*' I will look forward with hope to some future time, when I may
meet you here under circumstances more favourable ; but, mean-
time, I fear that you and dear Lucy will find me a very useless
personage, for, at present, I cannot command my evening hours,
having fallen into such a routine of engagements, as would make
my withdrawing myself from society unpleasantly remarkable."
This candid avowal was, of course, replied to in a suitable
manner ; and before they had been many days at Vienna, the trio
found themselves passing their days very nearly as they might
have done, when reciprocally meeting in their respective castles.
SiS gehtrude; or,
Tholr mornings, however, had considerably more variety ; for
not only were there many interesting drives, but there were fine
pictures, rich museums, and noble libraries, where they often
enjoyed themselves for several hours together, without running
the very slightest risk of being interrupted, for these precious
repositories arc not the most fashionable resorts in Yienna. In
Kict, the life now led by these much-attached country neighbours,
was very much like what it might have been, had they remained
at home, at least as far as society went ; for the Countess Adolphe,
though well inclined to make light of all evils, whether physical
or moral, could not conceal, either from herself or her two watch-
ful companions, " that she was not quite so strong as she used to
be."
Had she never known the misery of losing a child, her usually
gay spirits would not so easily have deserted her ; but, as it was,
the companionship of the much stronger-minded Gertrude, and
the constant and assiduous attention of her tridy devoted hus-
band, were giTatly needed, and of the most essential benefit to
her.
Fortunately for them all, the accounts from Schloss Schwanberg
were everything that the anxious Gertrude could wish them to be.
The baron was in as perfectly good health as his three-score years
and ten could possibly permit him to be ; Father Alaric, it was
evident, was always at his post, both in the chapel and out of it ;
and as for jMadame Odenthal, her pleasant narrative letters were
so charming, that their arrival was almost as satisfactory, Adolphe
said, as a gallop from Schloss Steinfeld to Schloss Schwanberg
could have been.
In respect to Eupert's part of the correspondence, it must be
confessed, that his dispatches partook so much of the style and
character of love letters, that it would be indiscreet, and in very
bad taste, to examine them ; but, nevcrthelogs, it cannot be
doubted that they very successfully fulfilled the purpose for
which they were written, for as surely as the post conveyed one
of them to the hands of Gertrude, so surclv did she exhibit a
very visible improvement both in health and spirits.
It must be confessed also, however, that our very domestic
voung trio had another source of interest, I will not sav amuse-
nient, because under the circumstances, it would not be decorous
so to describe it ; but the facts of the case must be stated, because
tliey eventually became of considerable importance.
It was Lucy, notwithstanding the languor and low spirits to
which she occasionallv gave wnv, who was the first to observe a
fa:mily TEiDE. 349
consielei-able cliaiige in the general appearance and manner of
Connt Stcinfeld. It has been already stated, that he was a very
young father for a married son; but now this incongrnity had
become very greatly more remarkable. In truth, there would be
little or no exaggeration in saying, that the eifect produced by
his general aspect was such as might have easily led to the belief
that he was the younger man of the two.
Adolphe, though by no means slovenly, was very decidedly
careless in his dress. Eew hard-reading men are coxcombs in
their attire, although they may occasionally be detected in
bestowing rather an overweening attention to the attire of their
books ; but Adolphe was not a coxcomb, even here. He was a
genuine hard reader, though scarcely conscious of the fact himself;
for he still knew much too little of the general state of his fellow
creatures in this particular, to be at all capable of forming a just
estimate of himself.
The daily, or nearly daily, visits of his elaborately attired
father, might have gone on for years, without its ever occurring
to Adolphe to remark, that his lather was one of the youngest,
handsomest, and best-dressed men of his acquaintance, had Lucy
not pointed out the fact to him.
On one occasion, when the Connt made his paternal visit oi
route to a dinner-party, the contrast between the father and son
struck her so forcibly, that, after he had bestowed his customary
salute on her fair cheeks, and departed, she said, with one of her
quizzical little smiles, "I almost wonder, Adoli)he, that you
should like to see your wife kissed by such a very handsome,
elegant young man I "
"Handsome, elegant young man? " repeated Adolphe, looking
infinitely puzzled. " Who do you mean, Lucy? "Who is it that
kisses you?"
" The person who kisses me, Adolphe — I don't mean yourself,
remember — is by far the handsomest and best-dressed man of my
acquaintance," she replied; "and, moreover, he does me this
honour, every time I see him."
" You mean my father," said he, laughing ; " and he certainly
does look very young and handsome, considering that he is the
father of such an uncouth old son as I am."
" Why, really, Adolphe, I do think it is very kind of him not
to be ashamed of you," she replied; "ashamed of your looking
so exceedingly old, I mean. I really think that he could not
have quite given up flying kites and spinning tops, when he
married. Depend upon it, my dear, he looks more fit to be
G50 GEr^TiiUDE; oi;,
a Lridcgroom no^Y, llian lie did tlieu. Dou't you tliiuk so,
Adolphe?"
'•' ^Xonsensc, Lucy! A biidcgToom ? who could have put such
stuff iuto your head ? Kot Gertrude, I am sure, for she never
talks nonsense ! " he replied, with a very awful frown.
'•'Don't look so very fiercely angry, husband, or you will make
me cry," returned Lucy. "I won't say another word about
bridegrooms," she addect, in the very meekest accent possible,
'^ if you will only make one innocent little wager with me. Will
you bet me a solid, honest, English sovereign (I don't mean our
well-beloved queeu, but only one of her beautiful little golden
portraits), will you bet me a sovereign, Adolphe, that your father
is not a bridegroom before this day six months ? "
Adolphe scolded a little, but he laughed a little too ; and at
last the bet was made, and moreover, the bet was won by the
sharp-sighted Lucy, or rather, the bet was honourably paid,
though not accurately won ; for Count Steinfeld's marriage with
a, pretty young lady some half-dozen years younger than his son,
did not take place till six months and seven days after the said
bet had been registered in Lucy's pocket-book.
CHAPTER LY.
ilEAx^vnTLE the important hour approached, which was so
anxiously looked forward to, and which, it was hoped, would
repair the heavy loss which poor Lucy, with all her gaiety, had
never ceased to deplore.
It unfortunately happened, that when this anxiously looked-for
hour arrived, the Earoness Gertrude was too unwell to bestow on
her beloved friend the personal attendance which her heart dic-
tated. Happily, however, there was not much time for regret of
any kind, for Lucy presented not only one baby to her delighted
husband, but two, a boy and a girl, both strong, both healthy,
and both greatly more likely to live than to die.
The contrast between the hours which precede such an event,
and those which follow it, is too familiar to all the world to make
any description of it necessary ; even the gallant and handsome
young grandfather, notwithstanding his approaching change of
fa:mily rpjDE. G31
condition, seemed conscious of this, and looked as well' pleased
and happy as the rest of the party ; although Lucy, with her
accustomed sauciness, declared that though this handsomest of all
her young men acquaintance behaved so admirably ttcII upon the
occasion, she could not help fearing that the having to announce
two grand- children to his alnanced young bride, must have been
extremely disagreeable.
It was not very long after this happy event had taken place,
that a letter from ^Madame Odenthal gently hinted to Gertrude
that her father began to be anxious for her return ; but the hint
was so quietly given, that had not there been a postscript to the
letter, it is possible that the receipt of it would not have greatly
hastened their movements. The postscript said, "I should be
very sorry, dearest Gertrude, that what I have written should
hasten the homev.^ard movements of your friends, but should a
lengthened stay at Yienna be their purpose, I will make the
journey myself, under the protection of the faithful Hans, and I
think that between us we shall be able to conduct you home very
safely."
This (feminine) postscript settled the business at once ; neither
of the party had, in fact, any great wish to remain longer in
Yienna; and Gertrude's reply to Madame Odenthal assured her
that they should meet in a very few days, without her enduring
the trouble and fatigue of a long journey for the purpose.
Two babies and their two nurses formed, however, an addition
to the party of a kind which prevented its being quite as rapid as
it might have been without them ; and Gertrude, on arriving,
found that she had, for the last hour or two, been rather anxiously
C3;pected.
One carriage, containing Lucy and the children, drove to
Schloss Steinfeld, the other, with Gertrude and Adolphe as her
escort, took the road to Schloss Schwanberg. Their journey had
been without contreteuqys or accident of any kind ; but, neverthe-
less, the heart of poor Gertrude beat so vehemently as she
approached her home, her father, and Paipert, that it was not
Yvdthout considerable effort, and considerable difnculty, that she
sustained the appearance of composure.
On the steps which led up to the principal entrance to the
castle, stood Eupert, precisely where he had stood three years
before, waiting their arrival on their return from Paris. AX the
moment that Gertrude first caught a glimpse of him as he thus
stood, pale with intensity of emotion, she was herself so nearly
overcome bv the same cause, that she shook from head to foot-
352 geuteude; or.,
Eiit tlie one quick backward glance which memory took to the
moment when she had hist seen him standing exactly in the same
place and in tlio same attitude, did more towai\ls reviving her
exhausted spirits, than all the volatile essences which ever were
applied to the most sensitive nostril.
The difference between the present and the past rushed upon
her memory like a gleam of bright sunshine into a darkened
room ; and utterly forgetting the fears which had tormented her,
lest she should find her aged father changed, or in any degree the
worse for her long absence, she uttered the name of " Rupeet " in
accents Avhich i^roved plainly enough that, for the moment,
at least, the feeling of very exquisite happiness was predo-
minant.
i!^ever was a genuine emotion of sympathy more clearly demon-
strated than in the manner of Count Adolphe's taking leave of his
late guest. He uttered no word of salutation to Eupert, no word
of farewell to Gertrude ; nay, he did not even shake hands with
her, for he had a sort of instinctive conviction that she would
have been quite unconscious of it, if he had. All he did in the
way of leave-taking, was to spring out of the carriage the moment
it stopped, take her in his arms just in time to prevent her throw-
ing herself head foremost after him, then spring into it again, and
drive off.
It is a most certain fact, that during many hours of this home-
ward journey, the thoughts of Gertrude had been very much
occupied by the idea of her reunion with her father ; but now
that she had reached her long-distant home, he was, for a short
interval, utterly and entirely forgotten. The same little parlour
Vthich had sheltered her during the first agitating moments after
her return from Paris, sheltered her again now. But oh ! the
blessed change ! She no longer shrunk from seeking E-upert's
eye, from fear that she might find it averted ; but, for a moment,
the happiness of which overpaid (as she often declared in after-
life) all the misery she had endured, for one short dear moment,
she rested her head upon his bosom, and whispered a word or
two of seemingly very moving tenderness in his ear.
But this one dear moment passed, she lingered not for the en-
joyment of a second, but exclaimed, " My father! and your dear
mother, too, Paipcrt ? "
*' They are together," he replied; "but I cannot, I dare not,
lead you to them."
" i^o, Eupert, no ! It is far better that you should not. You
are not by any means trustworthy at this moment, rortimately,
fa:mily pride. 353
I know my way, and therefore do not need your assistance. Stay
where you are, and lock yourself in, if you please, for you are
not at all fit to be seen. Alas ! my Eupert ! you are a very poor
specimen of a philosopher ! Eut, if I mistake not, Shakspeare
tells us somewhere, that there never yet was a philosopher that
could endure the toothache patiently, so I suppose you must not
lose caste for looking so very little stoical at this moment. Shut
yourself up ! shut yourself up, Eupert, and behave better when
we next meet."
AYith her heart still beating joyously, and her cheeks flushed
with emotion, Gertrude sought her father, and was not only most
joyously welcomed, but highly complimented on her improved
looks.
'' Vienna seems to have agreed with you, my dear child, still
better, if possible, than your own free native air. But I have no
doubt, my beloved Gertrude, that with your peculiarly high-
minded views respecting noble ]'ank, and noble races, you must
have felt in another sense, as if you were in native air. There is
no capital in Europe where high birth so instantly finds its
proper place, as in Vienna. J^o mistakes there, my dear ; neither
equipage, jewels, nor anything else that wealth can give, can
stand in the place of high birth, at Vienna. I am sure you must
have observed this with pleasure, my dear Gertrude."
" The Countess Adolphe was not very well, papa, and did not
go much into society," replied Gertrude.
''I am sorry to hear it," replied the baron, very solemnly.
''IN'ot that I mean to blame her," he continued; ''for her
situation, probably, rendered it desirable that she should not
fatigue herself. Eut it is probable, my dear Gertrude, that
though she has allied herself to a family of very considerable
distinction, she may not be herself aware of the real importance
to the highest class of society in Vienna which your appearing
among them would have been. You know what our alliances
are, and have been, Gertrude, though this rather low-born young
Englishwoman does not ; and I cannot but think, my dear child,
that you scarcely did justice to yourself, or to them, by remain-
ing unknown among them."
**I did not think it would have been right, papa, for me to
let her pass her evenings alone. I went to Vienna more for her
sake than for that of the society I was likely to find there.
Their being all personally strangers to me, would have made my
going among them alone rather embarrassing to me."
** Perhaps you are right, Gertrude. Perhaps you are right.
24
354 geetpxde; oe,
I can perfectly well imagine, that your feelings on the subject
would have been very different, if I had been with you," replied
the baron. *'You must have often felt that you wanted me,
Gertrude."
*' I can truly say, my dear father," returned Gertrude, with a
heightened colour, '* that no single day has passed during my
absence, in which I have not thought of you."
During the whole of this conversation, the hand of Gertrude
had been fast locked in that of Madame Odenthal ; but it was
perfectly well understood in the family, that when the baron was
holding a conversation with his daughter, he did not approve of
its being interrupted or broken-in upon by any " member of his
household," which was a phrase that comprehended Madame
Odenthal and her son, as well as the footmen, waiting-maids, and
grooms. But Gertrude now begged permission to retire, for the
purpose of changing her dress, which she averred, would be a
very great refreshment after so dusty a journey ; and as Madame
Odenthal very respectfully attended her, as a matter of course,
the two friends soon found themselves clasped in each other's
arms.
Madame Odenthal looked w^istfuUy in the face of Gertrude, as
if she longed to ask her a hundred questions ; but instead of ask-
ing her any, she only threw her arms around her again, and
pressed her to her heart.
"And my father?" exclaimed Gertrude, after the pause of a
moment; *'tell me everything about him. Has he been con-
stantly well ? Has he, on the whole, been in tolerably good
spirits since I left him ? "
*' Indeed, I think I may -very honestly answer y^s," replied
Madame Odenthal. ''His garden walks are certainly much
shorter than they used to be, but with this one exception, I really
think he is as well as I ever saw him. But come back with me
this very moment, dearest Gertrude, or he will lose all the little
patience he possesses."
The pleasure caused by the reunion between the father and
daughter, seemed equal on both sides ; and most assuredly, Ger-
tiiide had never before been so gay, so delightful a companion,
as she was now ; nor had her father ever before appeared to enjoy
her society so much. But, nevertheless, it was a very obvious
fact, that the Baron of Schwanberg Tvas growing old, and it was
fortunate both for him and his daughter also, that the daily
intercourse between them and their Steinfeld neighbours seemed,
by degrees, to become the only visiting they required, to make
FAMILY rPJDE. 355
them perfectly happy. All the noble, but scanty, neighbourhood,
of course, came to pay their compliments to the Baroness Ger-
trude on her return from the capital ; nor was Lucy, notwith-
standing her not very clearly understood English origin, welcomed
home with less of cordial kindness ; but when these visitings had
been duly returned, and were then followed by dinner invitations
from all the mansions within reach of them, it speedily became
evident, that both the ladies had lost their taste for nsual hospi-
talities. Nor is it, therefore, very extraordinary that they should
both be accused of giving themselves airs of stateliness and
superiority, in consequence of their three months' sojourn in the
metropolis.
It was in vain that Gertrude pleaded her father's increasing
infirmities, which rendered his leaving his own arm-chair a pain-
ful effort to him ; for there was scarcely a single individual in the
whole neighbourhood who was not ready to testify and declare
that he had never been better, or more fit for society in his life.
'Not did Lucy and her stay-at-home husband fare at all
better, when the former pleaded her daily increasing averseness
to leaving her darling babies ; and the latter ventured to confess
that he had not courage to contest the point with her ; so they
were both accused of giving themselves intolerable airs, and of
having been too much delighted with the dissipations of the
capital, to retain any relish for the friendly hospitalities of the
rural abode to which they had returned.
Even the friendly Doctor Nieper, though the last man in the
world to increase the circulation of an opinion so unfavourable to
his friends, had very decidedly strengthened this impression.
Eor one of the ladies of the neighbourhood wishing to ascer-
tain, if possible, whether there was anything like truth and
sincerity in the cause assigned by the Countess Adolphe von
Steinfeld for staying at home, took an opportunity of asking the
good doctor, whether these precious twin children were in any
danger of following the one that she had lost ; upon which he
answered with the genuine satisfaction of a truly good-hearted
man, that he was happy to say, that he had never, in his whole
long life and practice, seen so magnificent a pair of twins.
''Babies are always anxious joys," he added, '' and particularly
so, it must be confessed, in the case of twins ; but I certainly
see no reason whatever to fear for the life of either of these, at
present."
So it was agreed by general consent among the provincial aris-
tocracy, that the two friends should be permitted to shut them-
24—8
356 GEETErBE; OS,
selves up alternately in each other's strongholds, as much as they
liked.
Kor did any of the individuals concerned repine at the fate
thus allotted them. Nothing pleased the old baron better than
having Lucy and the jiursery transferred to Schloss Schwanberg ;
and as Gertrude became every day more and more averse to leave
her father, it was there, for the most part, that the two united
families might be said to live. The library, too, had its share in
strengthening this arrangement. Gertrude had not left off buy-
ing books ; and remote as they might seem to be from the scenes
■where human intelligence is the most actively at work, they were
more completely an couraiit da Jour than many who bustle about
in the midst of them.
CHAPTER LYI.
There was not a single individual of the party who formed
this isolated group, the baron and Madame Odenthal included,
who would not have been ready to declare, if questioned on the
subject, that "let but the same endure, they asked not aught
beside."
But this same, natural, simple, and unambitious as it was,
nevertheless, was not destined to endure long. The first distant
sound that disturbed it came from Yienna, and reached them in
the shape of a report that the Count von Steinfeld was im-
mediately about to unite himself in the bonds of holy wedlock
with the young and fair Countess Wilhelmina Carolina Eodol-
phina von. Kronenstern.
Then came a letter, written in the most affectionate style,
from the Count himself, not only officially stating the same im-
portant fact, but adding thereunto the information that it was
the intention of himself and his bride immediately to take up
their abode at Schloss Steinfeld, which he earnestly requested
might be made in every respect ready for their reception.
Though Lucy's prophecy had been at first considered as a joke,
rumour had for some time been busy upon the same theme, so
that the announcement of the fact did not take them by surprise ;
FAMILY rr.iDE. • 357
but, DGvorlliclcss, the quiet Gstablishmont was put into cousidcr-
alile confusion by the efforts made, by every part of it, to be, as
directed, in all respcctvS ready for the announced arrival of the
bride-folks ; and it was immediately felt by them all, that one of
the two happy homes which of late had, in a great degree, been
in common to the two families, could continue to be so no
longer.
But in order to make this inevitable change as little painful
as possible, Madame Odenthal and Gertrude between them, con-
trived to prepare something so like a nursery for Lucy's twins,
as might render Schloss Schwanberg as much like a home to
Adolphe and his wife as Schloss Steinfeld had ever been.
And this precaution proved a very essential blessing to them
all ; for the gay AVilhelmina was much more disposed to re-
member that she was herself a young bride, than that her hus-
band was a grandfather.
The return of the Count himself to his own domain, in the
character of a bridegroom, was, of course, a signal for a repetition
of all the hospitalities by which that of his son, when under the
same circumstances, had been welcomed rather more than two
years before ; but what had appearc^d very amusing to Lucy
when she enacted the part of bride herself, assumed a very
different aspect now.
She and her beautiful sister had been welcomed almost like
** foreign wonders ; " and their bad French, and worse German,
had been listened to, not only with indulgence, but, positively,
with admiration. Eut now there was not a distinguished family
in the neighbourhood that was not readv to avow its conviction,
that a bride from Vienna was a much more valuable acquisition
to the neighbourhood than it was possible a bride from London
could be.
As to Gertrude, the excuse afforded by the fact that her father
no longer Avent into company . . . never, in truth, leaving the
house except for a short drive in a close carriage, was exceed-
ingly welcome ; and her declining all invitations in order to
avoid leaving him, was a fact almost forgotten amidst the un-
wonted gaieties of Schloss Steinfeld.
And, assuredly, a more domestic partnership was never insti-
tuted than that which now united Gertrude and Lucy, under the
hospitable roof of Schloss Schwanberg.
Though the nursery of the twins, in the mansion of the bride,
was not wholly deserted, it was very neaiiy so ; for it was im-
pGSsibJ<» +^ deny the fact that Gertrude, Eupert, and the library,
O ."T
58 gehthude; os,
formed altogether an attraction that very decidedly overpowered
that of all the festivities that were to be found elsewhere.
The increasing infirmities of the baron began, however, to dis-
turb the serenity with which this was enjoyed ; and at length
his strength failed him so completely, that he could no longer
leave his room.
Eut the master-passion failed not with his failing strength.
While supported in his arm-chair, and then upon his sofa, and at
last, when stretched upon his bed, his head, or heart, or what-
ever the seat of pride might be, still remained true to the feeling
that had predominated throughout his life.
"Eemember, my beloved Gertrude," he said, re-said, and said
again, at least a score of times before his death — " remember that
my obsequies must be in most respects, I think I might with
propriety say in all, totally distinct, and different, from those of
inferior persons."
*' Your instructions, my dearest father," she tearfully replied,
*' shall be exactly obeyed in every respect."
" I know it, my beloved child ! " he replied again and again
to the oft-repeated words, but never as if he thought that his
injunctions could be given, or her obedience promised, too often.
*' I know it, my noble-minded daughter ! You will never suffer
your sorrow for our comparatively short separation to interfere
with your performance of the duties which will devolve upon you
at my death. Our opinions upon all points connected with our
exalted station are, and ever have been, so exactly the same, my
dear child, that, I confess to you, I consider your having re-
mained thus long unmarried, as an especial dispensation of
Providence. Had any reigning prince, or nobleman of the very
highest rank, solicited your hand, Gertrude, it was more than
probable that you might, by necessity, have been absent from me
at this very important moment."
*' I am, indeed, thankful, my dearest father," she replied,
** that I have formed no connection which should oblige me to
leave you ! Let me but understand your wishes, and be certain
that I will obey them."
'' I have still much to say to you," he solemnly replied ; '' and
I would wish our good Madame Odenthal to prepare me some
restorative which I may take, from time to time,' while I am
giving you my final instructions. I would spare you the fatigue
of listening to directions which must, of necessity, be long, and
which you may feel, also, to be melancholy, my dear child ; I
would willingly spare you this, if I could, and make our good
FA:.riLT PEIDE. ooO
Paipcrt tlie cxcciitor of my last wishes. Eiit we know, my dear
love, that the sort of intellect necessary for the full comprehension
of such a subject, is not to be looked for in any class inferior to
our own. People of high station, my Gertrude, ought to live for
posterity ; their m.anners, and habits of life, being the only safe
standard by which those who come after them can be modelled.
Nor is this all that we are bound to do for posterity ; we ought
not only to live, but to die also, in such a manner as may serve
as an example for those who follow us."
The good old man had been so accustomed, through his whole
life, to utter long harangues, that he had, like many extemporary
preachers, acquired a habit of pausing, as if to give his hearers
time to digest what he had said ; and this skilful pause enabled
him now to proceed, though in a voice considerably lower than
usual.
" I have a high opinion of Eupert," he resumed ; '' indeed, I
have a very high opinion of him. I think his abilities must bo
quite out of the common way, considering the rank in which he
was born ; but, nevertheless, my dear Gertrude, I do not believe
him to be at all more capable of comprehending my wishes on
this important subject than of managing an army, or of ruling a
kingdom. jMy wish is . . . " — but here he became so evidently
exhausted, that Gertrude, in her capacity of nurse, insisted upon
his taking a little refreshment, and, if possible, of composing
himself, and endeavouring to sleep for a few moments, before he
proceeded with his instructions, which, as he himself very justly
observed, were only the more fatiguing in their deUvery, because
he was so deeply conscious of their importance.
J* J± ••» »•» •!•
♦^ Vr V»* V Tf
Meanwhile, a very different scene was going on at Schloss
Steinfeld.
After having been exhibited in her bridal attire, at every
mansion within visiting reach in the neighbourhood, the sprightly
Wilhelmina made it clearly understood by her handsome bride-
groom, that it was her inclination, wish, purpose, and intention,
to give a series of fetes at Schloss Steinfeld, which should prove
most satisfactorily to all the world that she was not unworthy of
the flattering reception which she had met in the neighbourhood.
IsTor did the handsome bridegroom appear in the least degree
averse to this gay project ; and hospitable preparations of all
kinds were accordingly commenced with great zeal from the
garrets of the old mansion to its cellar, both inclusive.
But, unfoi'tunately, the neighbourhood, though on the whole
o60 GEETErDE; OE,
very respectably aristocratic, was somewhat too widely scattered
to be convenient for such an object, and in many cases, the per-
sonages with whom the ambitions yonng bride most eagerly
sought intimacy, resided at too great a distance to permit their
returning home after a ball ; and therefore, whenever a ball, or
even a sociable little waltzing party, was given by the dance-
loving Wilhelmina, the garrets of Schloss Steinfeld were to be
put in requisition as well as its cellars.
Eut let it not be supposed that the brilliant and quick-witted
bride ever di'eamed of lodging neighbours of sixteen descents in a
garret. Assuredly no idea so preposterous ever entered her head.
But if they were not to lodge there, somebody else must, or
Steinfeld Castle could not be made to furnish pillows enough for
its inhabitants.
!N"ow, when Adolphe had brought home his young English
bride (her forty thousand pounds sterling coming home with her),
the handsomest apartments in the mansion had immediately been
assigned to her and her husband, and these they had, of course,
retained ever since. Moreover, the apartment which had been
occupied by Arabella, and which had been selected not only as
being second-best, but as being near her sister, had been appro-
priated to the babies ever since the return of the party from
Vienna ; nor had it been thought necessary to change the arrange-
ment, because that portion of the mansion which had even been
hitherto appropriated to the master and mistress of the family,
was, of course, assigned to the Count and his bride on their
arrival. But when the time approached for returning the festive
hospitalities by which the Count and his young bride had been
welcomed to the neighbourhood, it was discovered that it was
absolutely necessary to invade the nursery apartments of the
twins, in order to accommodate the guests.
The announcement of this necessity was not in any way agree-
able to Lucy. The garrets might be very good garrets, as the
gay AVilhelmina repeatedly assured her they were ; but never-
theless Lucy did in no degree approve the proposition of lodging
the precious babies therein.
But Lucy had too much good sense, as well as too much good
temper, to make a family quarrel on the occasion. She knew,
moreover, perfectly well, that "if he lived to be a man," her
darling boy would some day be lord of the castle, despite all the
beautiful brides that her youthful father-in-law could bring down
upon them .... but the question was, what was to become of
the dear babies now ? Hud it not been so perfectly obvious to
FAMILY TEIDE. 361
everyone about him that the Baron von Schwanherg was posi-
tively dying (though he still found it very difficult to believe it),
the natural remedy for this garret scheme would have been
obvious enough, as nothing could have been more easy than the
sending the two children to occupy the rooms at Schloss Schwan-
berg which had been long ago allotted to them.
33ut she knew that Gertrude would neither like to rouse him
from his half lethargic state, in order to ask his permission for
doing this, nor yet would she choose to take advantage of this
same melancholy lethargy, in order to smuggle them into the
castle without his knowledge.
Lucy had, however, the comfort of knowing, that her dearly-
beloved Adolphe would not only tell her exactly what it was
best to do, but that his constant good humour would enable him
to take a more patient view of the case than she could do with-
out him .... for in her heart she was very angry indeed, and
therefore, like a good wife, and a wise woman, she dutifully
determined to make over all her sorrows to her husband, leaving
him at perfect liberty to do battle, or to yield, as he thought
best.
The task she thus assigned him was not an easy one, and so
conscious was he of this fact, that he looked an older man by
half-a-dozen years while he was meditating upon it, than he had
ever looked before. But notwithstanding both his bookish abstrac-
tion, and his constitutional good humour, Adolphe had sober
judgment enough to perceive that Lucy's question, " What had
we better do, Adolphe ? " was an important one, inasmuch as it
did not concern the present moment only, but might have an
influence on their domestic comfort for many a long year to
come.
At the time of Adolphe' s marriage it had been settled, without
the slightest doubt or difficulty on either side, that Schloss Stein-
feld should be the principal residence of the young couple ; and
though Lucy's ample fortune had made it an easy matter to them
to change the scene whenever inclined to do so, they had never,
as yet, considered any other residence as their home.
But after very mature deliberation, Adolphe now began to
think that this could be the case no longer ; and it was then,
perhaps, for the first time, that he became fully aware that forty
thousand pounds sterling might be a very important addition to
the good gifts of a pretty wife, even if blessed with as sweet a
temper as that of his Lucy.
To have asked his bridegroom father to have made him such.
3G2 GERTr.rDE; ob,
an allowancG as mlglit have enaljlcd liiiii to live clsewiiere, in a
style bclittiug his rank and station in society, would have been
very painful to him, and probably in vain, also ; for lie had never
as yet heard any allusion made to the personal fortune of his
youthful step-mother, and it was therefore certainly with more
satisfaction than he had ever felt before on the same subject, that
he now recollected how perfectly it was in his power to let his
dear little wife choose a home for herself.
Lucy was at first considerably more puzzled than pleased when
Adolphe returned to her, after taking, as he said, a solitary walk
to meditate, with a countenance much more indicative of enjoy-
ment than of deliberation. Lucy could not look cross ; Kature
had denied her the power ; but she certainly did look very grave,
as he returned to her in her solitary houdoir, looking as blithe as
a school-boy at the beginning of his holidays.
"Oh, Adolphe! Adolphe! you have not been thinking ahout
the dear children, I am very sure ! " she exclaimed, shaking her
head. "At least you cannot have been meditating on the subject
as seriously as I have done ; for the dif&culty only increases the
more I think ahout it. Little Lucy has decidedly got a cold
already, and I really would not have her taken out of her own
warm room into that great wide garret for the world ! "
"Lucy shall not be taken into that great wide garret, my
dear," replied Adolphe, gaily; "nor little Adolphe, either.
Eut I suppose you will not be terrified at the idea of my going
there."
"Terrified," repeated Lucy, looking, if possible, graver than
before. " Terrified is certainly a very strong word, and I don't
suppose that I could truly say that I should be terrified, Adolphe,
if you were to pass a night in the garret. But I will tell you
fairly and sincerely that I shall not approve it at all."
"It will only be for one night, you know, Lucy, and if I do
happen to sneeze, it will not much signify, will it? "
"I hardly know how to answer you, Adolphe," she replied,
"because you are in jest, and I am in earnest. As to the mere
inconvenience," she added, "I assure you that I could make quite
as little fuss about it myself, as you can do, It is not the incon-
venience. It is the .... the i)rinciple^ if I may use so solemn
sounding a word without your laughing at me."
" No, Lucy, for once in your life I will let you be solemn with-
out laughing at you. On the contrary, I do not think you could
choose a better word, and, like you, my dear, I do not approve
the principle. liut though I can forgive your solemnity, I doubt
FAMILY 1>ETDE. 363
if I can forgive your folly. Lucy I Lucy ! Lucy ! will you agree
to our both following the example of your beloved Dogberry ?
^Vill you write yourself down an ass, and obligingly permit me to
do the same?"
"!My dearest, dearest Adolphe ! " she replied, with something
very like a tear in her bright eye ; '' how I do wish you would be
serious ! "
"Serious!" he repeated, "which of us do you suppose to be
the most serious at this moment? "
" Why, Adolphe ! how can you talk to me so ? " she exclaimed ;
"I really do not believe that you are exactly aware ichat we are
talking about. It is about the health of the children, my dear
Adolphe, that I am so anxious. I do not approve the Countess's
proposal of removing them from their present warm nursery to
the garret. Do vou think there is anything really ridiculous in
that?"
" JN'ot exactly ridiculous, Lucy," he replied. " Eut the question
is but trifling, my dear, that is, speaking comparatively. What
should you say, for instance, of its comparative importance, if I
were to name beside it the question of whether you, and I, and
our children, present, and to come, were from henceforth, probably
for the term of our natural lives, to remain the permitted guests
of our blooming step-mother ; or, that we were suddenly to turn
ourselves to the right-about, and, dutifully asking papa's blessing,
to march off, and find an independent home for ourselves, in
whatever part of the world we might happen to like best ! "
" My dearest, dearest Adolphe ! " exclaimed Lucy, clasping her
hands, and positively trembling with eagerness; "are you really
in earnest in saving- that such a delicious idea has ever occurred
to you?"
" Traitress ! " he replied, holding up his fist in a very threat-
ening attitude ; "traitress! did such an idea ever occur to you,
without yoiu' telling me of it ? "
" Telling you of it ? " replied Lucy, with an air of very supe-
rior wisdom. " Telling you of it, Adolphe ! Just fancy the daugh-
ter of a plebeian English banker, telling the son and heir of an
Austrian nobleman, that she thought the best thing they could do
would be to run away from the ancestral castle, and its sixteen
quarters, in order to amuse themselves by leading a sort of fancy
life, heaven knows where ! "
"You have put the case so well. Countess Adolphe," repli.ed
her husband, "that I should not find a single word to say in
reply, were it not for one trifling little circumstance. If the
364 GErvirvrDE; on,
daughter of the plchcian English banker had chanced to have no
marriage portion more ^^rccions than that appertaining to the
noble Countess ^Yilhelmina von Steinfeld, I am quite ready to
confess that the best, and perhaps the only course they could
pursue, -^ould be to remain in the said ancestral castle, peaceably
contenting themselves with whatever portion of it might be as-
signed to their use. But as the marriage portion of the Countess
Adolphe von Steinfeld for the time being happens to consist in
English pounds sterling, instead of German armorial bearings, the
case is different. Yon know more about living in England, Lucy,
than I do, and I have no doubt yon will be able to tell me, with
tolerable accuracv, whether the income arising from vour fortune
would enable us to exist there with tolerable comfort?"
"Exist there! Oh! my darling Adolphe ! would yon really
consent to make the experiment? Exist? not a single comfort,
not a single luxury that you enjoy here, shall be wanting there,
Adolphe, save and except the pleasure of looking up at the great
stone griffins over the gate, and telling your heart, with a com-
placent smile, that they were stuck up there by your ancestors in
the year one ! Adolphe ! Adolphe ! if you are in earnest, I shall
be too, too happy ! I shall indeed ! I shall not know how to
bear it." And so saying, the gay-hearted Lucy threw her
arms upon the table, buried her face upon them, and began
sobbing.
*' My dear little wife ! " said Adolphe, throwing his arms round
her, "I shall have to quarrel with you at last! AVhy did you
never tell me, never hint to me, in any way, that you should be
happier in your own country than here ? I give you my
honour, Lucy, that I never suspected your having such a
feeling."
''jS^or had I any such feeling," she replied, with great sin-
cerity, ''as long as I believed that you preferred this home to
every other. I daresay you will laugh at me, if I tell you that
one reason for my never hinting at my occasional longings for a
peep at Old England, arose from that sort of mysterious reverence
which we feel for some of the mighty truths that we cannot un-
derstand. If any one had asked me, why I preferred England?
I could have answered by the commonest of all English words :
I should have said, ' Because it is more comfortnlle ; ' but I never
meditated, for a moment, upon your undoubted preference for
remaining with your father, instead of having an establishment
of your own (which I knew very well you could afford to pay
for) ; never, for a moment, did my vulgar English thoughts glance
FA:y:iLT PHiDE. 365
that way, without my f(>elin2: that I was totally unable to form a
f;dr judgment on the subject; because I could not comprehend
the exact nature of the attraction which kept you here. Eor I
knew that nothing would be more easy than for you to pay your
good father a yisit from time to time ; and, besides the Count
himself, I could see nothing but the griffins outside the door, and
your gay, young step-mother within, which you might not haye
found elsewhere."
This explanation, howeyer, on the part of Lucy, was so far
satisfactory, that it produced a hearty laugh from her husband,
though the said laugh was occasionally interrupted, for the pur-
pose of assuring her that she had behayed exceedingly ill.
Tlie discussion ended, howeyer, as most of their discussions did,
in a yery perfect agreement of opinion on the subject before them.
Moreoyer, it was agreed between them, ere they parted, that the
precious babies should in no case be exposed to the doubtful
atmosphere of the threatened garret, a danger which was easily
ayoided by Adolphe's quietly taking up his quarters on the sofa
in his wife's dressing-room, while the noble bed-room which had
been appointed for him and his lady on their arriyal, was con-
ycrted into a yery satisfactory nursery; and of this nursery it
was decided, that she and the children should keep possession,
till their newly-projected scheme of taking refuge in Englancl
from the enlarged hospitalities of "Wilhelmina could be acted
upon.
CHAPTER LYII.
The last scene of the august Baron yon Schwanberg's earthly
existence was, meanwhile, rapidly approaching. Fortunately,
howeyer, for the harmony of the Steinfeld festivities, his death
did not take place till two days after the party assembled to par-
take of them had separated ; and therefore the absence of Adolphc
and his wife, who immediately quitted the house of feasting for
the house of mourning, produced no discussion or objection of any
kind.
Gertrude had been to long prepared for this event for it to
3C6 GEF^ira'DE; oe,
ovcrwlielm lier ; but, nevcrtlielcss, slio Mt it sevcrel}^, and, liko
most otht.T people, probably, upon losing ouc3 whom they had
dearly loved, aud v/ho had dearly loved them, she tormented
herself not a little by dwelling upon all the circumstances in
"which she had recently opposed his wishes though not avow-
edly.
Iter last consolation, under the weight of these painful
thoughts, was the recollection of all the misery which she had
inflicted upon herself in Paris, in order to obey and please him ;
and if, at length, her sensitive conscience permitted her judgment
to acquit her, it was only by the help of her strong conviction,
that had such misery been repeated, her reason, or her life, or
both, would have been the sacrifice.
All that the most tender love, and the most genuine friendship,
could ofl'er, in the way of consolation, was not w^anting to Ger-
trude now. She deserved to be loved, and to be esteemed, not-
withstanding these untov/ard features in her destiny, w^hich had
maide her past life such a curiously-mixed tissue of right and
"wrong. She had, in fact, been so placed, that no line of conduct
"which it was possible for her to pursue, could have left her wholly
free from self-reproach ; and gratefully did she listen to the rea-
sonings of Rupert, which, without the aid of anything approaching
sophistry, displayed to her very satisfactorily the undeniable truth,
that by no other line of conduct could she have assured to her
father the enjoyment and consolation of her presence, to the last
hour of his life.
It scarcely need be stated, that the presence of her true friend,
Lucy, and the active co-operation of Adolphe with Rupert, in all
matters of business, were blessings gratefully received, and fully
appreciated. Rut as one of the most urgent of the defunct baron's
dying commands concerning his interment, specified the absolute
necessity of his being embalmed, according to the most approved
receipt at present known to mankind, it "\^'as necessary that Ger-
trude should remain in her dismal castle considerably longer than
would otherwise have been necessary ; for he had exacted from
her also the promise, that she would herself see him deposited in
his grave, with as much of dignity as it was in her power to
obtain at so great a distance from the capital.
*'A11 this to hear, did" the poor tearful Gertrude ''seriously
incline;" and she performed it too, by the active agency of
Rupert, in a style which could not but have been highly gratify-
ing and satisfactory to the spirit of the defunct nobleman, if,
haply, it was "within reach to witness it.
fa:j:ily pkide, 367
E'eithcr Aclolplie nor Lucy, auxiously bent as they were to
■withdraw themselves from the step-maternity of the brilliant
"Wilhelmiua, could be induced to leave Gertrude till this stately
pageant of her father's funeral was over; and even then, they
felt that they would willingly have lingered with her still, had it
not been for the persuasion that the most likely mode of obtaining
a re-union with her, which they all hoped to render lasting, would
be by setting off for England, while she was still engaged in
arranging her affairs in the order in which she wished to leave
them for the purpose of seeking a residence large enough to con-
tain them all, till the heiress of Schwanberg had seen enough of
this much-vaunted- English land, to decide whether it should be
her permanent residence, or not.
Tv^ithin a day or two after the funeral of the baron, therefore,
the wandering pair, who did not as yet possess the shelter of a
roof which they could call their own, set forth from Steinfeld
Castle upon their long journey, the termination of which seemed
as uncertain as that of our first parents, when they set forth with
the world all before them ; nevertheless, Lucy declared that she
did not feel at all as if she were leaving Paradise.
Fortunately for Gertrude, Eupert's appointment of secretary to
the baron had not been altogether a sinecure ; but, on the* con-
trary, he had, ever since their return from Paris, been entrusted
v>'ith all the business appertaining to the receiving rents, ordering
repairs, and renewing leases, so that at the demise of their long-
time landlord, the tenantry naturally applied to him for the
arrangement of any changes which this event made necessary.
'Eo property could have been left in better condition or in every
respect in better order, to render the succession to it easy, and
without embarrassment or trouble of any kind ; yet, nevertheless,
it did not take Gertrude any very long time to decide that, much
as she loved the place, and much as she clung to the memory of
both her parents, memories which every object in the neigh-
bourhood suggested, it was not there that she wished to take up
her rest.
But ample pecuniary resources furnish a wonderfully efEcient
assistance in all imaginable cases in which any alteration, or im-
provement, of any kind is contemplated.
The attachment which had long been growing, and strengthen-
ing, between the laughter-loving Lucy and the philosophical-
minded Gertrude, had become too powerful, and too important to
both of them, for either to contemplate any manner of life which
was to keep them asunder, without more pain than any existing
368 GEExrxDE; oe,
circimistances seemed to call upon them to endure ; and if Ger-
trude did not immediately announce her intention of leaving the
dreary splendours of her castle, for an abode less vast and more
cheerful, it was only because she would not decide what her own
movements should be, till she had been made acquainted with
those proposed by her friends.
As little time as possible, however, was lost in deciding what
these plans should be ; and when a letter reached Gertrude from
England, announcing the important and very agTceable fact, that
Adolphe and his Lucy had settled themselves in an abode of ample
room, and accommodation of all sorts, to enable them to receive
Gertrude and her retinue, till such time as she should have
selected a home of her own ; a wonderful short delay was neces-
sary before the heiress and her retinue were ready to set off on
their long- contemplated journey to England.
The preparations for their departure were doubtless made with
more facility because their numbers were few, for the whole of
the retinue permitted to attend my high-born, wealthy heroine,
consisted of Madame Odcnthal and her son llupcrt.
Madame Odenthal, indeed, did venture to suggest that Gertrude
might find some inconvenience from not being attended by a more
accomplished waiting-maid than she could herself hope to be ; but
Gertrude assured her, in reply, that by mutually practising this
finest of the fine arts upon each other, they should both speedily
become sufficiently accomplished in it to perform all its mysteries
to their mutual satisfaction.
There certainly was a shade of sadness on the beautiful coun-
tenance of Gertrude, as she drove past the gothic window of the
chapel in which both her parents lay interred ; and for a few
moments the travelling trio were very profoundly silent. But
these few moments past, Gertrude's heart and head both told her
that she belonged more to the living than to the dead ; and the
long journey upon which they had entered was performed with so
much more of pleasure than of pain, that had they been less
anxious to meet what they all hoped to find at the end of it, they
might have been tempted to wish it longer still.
The careful and accurate instructions which they had received
from Lucy, brought them at the end of ten days to a spot which,
even had it not contained the living beings which their hearts
most wished to me^t, would have a^ipeared to them all to look
vastly likely a second Paradise.
On a level spot, containing within its smooth expanse about
fifty acres, stood a modern mansion of very goodly size, but
FAMILY rrjDE. 369
wliic'h, wlicn compared to the mighty Schloss Schwauherg
^vhich they had left behind them, looked like a freestone
toy.
The level space on which it stood, was about half-way up one
of the steepest banks of the river Wye ; but, being approached
from behind, the first view of the sudden declivity produced the
effect of a bold precipice, and the view commanded from its finely
shorn lawn vras one afi'ording as fine a specimen of English river
scenery, as it was possible for the eye to look upon.
Kot to give an admiring and a lingering glance at this scene
was impossible; but at the door of the mansion stood a group
which caused even the strong-minded Gertrude to utter something
very like a scream as she caught sight of it ; and as the equipage
swept round the lawn to the portico, she could not resist the im-
pulse which caused her to attempt, somewhat vehemently, to
open the carriage-door, though, had she succeeded in doing so,
the result would probably have been her falling headlong on the
ground.
Fortunately, this desperate attempt failed, and in another
moment she was very safely in the arms of Lucy, while Adolphe,
catching a baby from one of the nurses stationed at the door,
placed it somehow or other on the bosom of the now weeping
Gcrtradc,
And then the whole party, propelled by a little gentle violence
from Ptupert, was induced to enter first a handsome hall, and then
a noble drawing-room at tlic further end of it, and there Gertrude,
still pressing the favoured baby to her bosom, sunk down upon a
sofa, and " tears began to flow."
And now it was the turn of Adolphe to exert himself, in order
to render tliis scene more perfectly intelligible to some of the
parties concerned in it.
The English nurse, however, who had been holding the babe
when the travellers arrived, was not one of those whom it was
his purpose to enlighten, and he, therefore, quietly told her to go
to the nursery, where the baby should be brought to her pre-
sently.
On seeing tliis woman make lier exit, closing the door after
her, Gertrude cast an inquiring glance round the room, and per-
ceiving that only Adolphe, Lucy, and the babe, which she still
pressed to her own bosom, were present, in addition to the travel-
ling trio, she rose, and approaching Madame Odenthal, placed the
infant in her arms. "Take her, my second mother!" she ex-
claimed with deep emotion. ''Love her, and cherish her ! You
2j
370 GERinuDE; oe,
may may do so without a siiadow of sclf-rcprcach ! I have kept
my secret from you, mother, that you might bo innocent in all
■vrays! "
* %\i * * * *
Should any scrupulously correct persons honour this tale Tvitli
perusal, and feel, notwithstanding their long acquaintance with
Gertrude, any disagreeable uncertainty respecting some rather
mysterious passages in her history, they are respectfully referred
loathe first chapter of this work, which, being rightly interpreted,
will solve all such painful doubts, although this "Almanack dc
Gotha" may be the only one in which the authentic narrative
therein recorded is likely to appear at full length.
•■:. -::- %'.• •".• ^< ■»
jjut there is a revolution, dearly beloved reader, which is
steadily at work among us, the progress of which is not the
less sure, because its onward movement is neither vehement nor
noisy.
AYe are all perfectly well aware that prosperous commerce, and
successful industry, will often cause so near an approach between
the toe of the commoner and the heel of the noble, as to run some
risk of galling a kibe ; and this is a fact still more patent in our
days, than it was vrhcn the keenest of all observers fii'st made the
remark.
Eut true as the remark was then, and more true as it is daily
becoming, by the eager onward movement of this successful in-
dustry, there is another cause at work also, which, I believe, is
likely to become infinitely more effective in lessening the distances
by which society is divided, than any which acquired wealth can
produce.
Kor is the lessening social distance its only effect. Social dis-
tance may be lessened with very little chance of producing any
feeling of equality as its result. Eut let the Earons von Schwan-
berg, who make the real ''Almanack de Gotha" (not my alma-
nack) their guide-book, let all such keep a sharp look-out upon
the species of free trade in intellect, which is so very obviously
threatening to set at naught the prohibitions of heraldic law-
givers.
The perils arising from a too close juxta-position between long-
descended rank and newly-accumulated wealth, are as nothing
when compared to the revolutionary influence of widely-diffused
education.
In proportion as that highest order of education -^yhicli develops
PAltiLT rpjDi). S?l
(lie iliinlcing powers of human beings becomes general, tlie effort
to separate society into distinct social classes becomes more cliiB.-
cult.
The system of enlarged education, -vrhich is so evidently gaining
ground among us, Trill do more towards lessening the inequalities
of rank, than all the heralds Trill be able to withstand.
Titles were abolished in Prance, yet no equality of condition
ensued ; but let the son of a tinker, born with a powerful and
healthful intellect, have that intellect fully developed by educa-
tion, and the effort to keep him within the tinkering sphere will
be as vain as the attempting to make a thorough-bred race-horse
pass for a fitting bcai'er of a pack-saddle.
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readers of works of fiction. There is no
modern writer who has thrown so much of
genial mirth, such native humour, such a
collection of humorous incidents, into his
stories. There is a raciness in its humour
that we look for in vain in the crowd of
novel writers of the present day ; and,
combined with this native humour and
ready wit there are so many life-like
sketches of character, so many touches of
a master's hand, that one does not so
much read of, as speak to, and with the
leading characters to whom the reader is
introduced. The very mention of the
name of Charles Lever calls up a crowd of
old associations and acquaintances, the
rollicking Harry Lorrequer, the dashing
Knight of Gwynne ; the carefully drawn
O'Donoghue, earring us back to the Ireland
of half a century since ; and those curious,
but yet real and life-like members of the
Dodd family, and others, which have
established for themselves an undying
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ture."— Observer,
THE O'DOl^OaHUE.
By Charles Lever, Author of " One
of Them," " The Daltons," &c.
" The introduction of this beautiful and
brilliant work into the Select Lieuaky is
a healthy sign of the times, and speaks
well for the sagacity and judgment of the
eminent publishers, Messrs. Chapman and
Hall. 'The O'Donoghue' is a tale of
Ireland fifty years ago, and it is told with
the charm of manner which, more than
any other writer of the day, distinguishes
Charles Lever. It certainly possesses all
the elements of a good novel, combining
graphic and life-like portraiture of per-
sons, exquisite descriptions of scenery,
vigorous and well-sustained narrative, a
plot intensely interesting, and wonderful
constructive power throughout. It is in-
deed an admirable work, and we welcome
it as one of the best that has hitherto
appeared from the master hand of Lever."
— Shrewsbury Journal.
THE DlLTOl^S.
By Charles Lea'er. 2 vols.
" This work contains scenes from the
late Italian Campaign, and from Mr.
Lever's well-known talent for depicting
stirring scenes and faithful portraiture of
character, it is needless for us to say
much. The author of ' Charles O'Malley,'
' Harry Lorrequer,' <fcc., is too well known
to require recommendation. "We have no
doubt the work will be well received."
— Derby Reporter.
KATHEPvINE & HEE, SISTEP.S
By the Author of " The Discipline of
Life," " Mary Lindsay," &c.
"Lady Emily Ponsonby's novels are a
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" A story of absorbing interest — genial,
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" A deeply interesting story. Lady
Emily Ponsonby's productions are of the
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THE DODD FAMILY ABROAD
By Charles Lever. 2 vols.
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' The Dodd Family Abroad,' like ' The Ex-
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tive thrown into epistolary form, and re-
lated by the actors themselves, who are
thus made with great skill to be, as it
were, the unconscious exponents of their
own characters, follies, and foibles, as
well as the historians of their own fates.
We do not desire to suggest even a critical
comparison between this clever romance
and that masterpiece of Smollett, which
will doubtlees remain unrivalled as long
as the English literature endures. But
the most conspicuous merit in 'The Dodd
Family' is, that each character in the
story is so contrived as to evoke, in the
most humorous form, the peculiarities of
all the others, without any violation of
the individuality assigned to itself."
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By the Author of " Margaret and her
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cle,
EECKIKGTOIf.
A Novel. By Mrs. Gore.
"The established reputation of Mrs.
Gore as a novelist must ever secure a
hearty welcome to any emanation from
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told with all personal expressiveness of
stjle. Rawdon of Heckington, as he was
designated in his county history, resented,
as an injury at the hands of Providence,
that to Heckington there was no Arthur
Rawdon to succeed. All the disappointed
man could do with such unprofitable
articles on his hands as a Sophia and a
Jane, was to marry them early, in hopes
that at the time of his decease an heir
male might not be wanting; and his mor-
tification was proportionably great when
his elder girl chose to attach herself to
the son of a neighbouring gentleman far- ;
mer, of small means^Henry Corbet — |
whilst his younger girl was married to ' a
handsome and wealth}- Creole, of the name I
of Enmore, who, within three years, ren- \
dered him the proud grandfather of two
promising boys." — Morning Post. '
JACOB BENDIXEN, THE JE¥.
By Mary Howitt.
"This tale has the fascination and the
value of a glimpse into a most strange
world. "We heartily commend the novel."
— AthencEum.
MRS. MATHEWS;
Or, Family Mysteries.
By Mrs. Trollope.
"A production unique in character, and
of singular merit. This interesting story
displays remarkable knowledge of life, and
unites with great variety and fertility in
the conception of character, greater free-
dom, energy, and minuteness of delinea-
tion, than any other of Mrs. Trollope's
novels."— jPo6^
GERTRUDE ;
Or, Family Pride.
By Mrs. Trollope.
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no\e\."—JIeraliL
"Brilliant and full of incident."— i?ai7;/
Neirs.
I " The publication of this work will add
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novelist." — Fost,
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By Mrs. Trollope.
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A DAY'S RIDE : A LIEE'S
ROMNCE.
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REUi^EN KEDLICOTT, the Coming Man. By
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<»^^_ _^ "_ «. IVAM8, «."*011AVM AMU f»iNlJIR, *a vUiT CI., *LltM »T. |