Clear the Track! A Story of To-day. E. Werner
was sick and suffered under the severe climate of his native land, which, nevertheless, he loves: the South has restored him to health. As for the rest, he is rich enough to purchase a place anywhere in Italy that he chooses, and to pass there his time for recreation, although his regular home must continue to be at Odensburg."
"Do you think that so absolutely necessary?" Slight derision was perceptible in the tone of her question.
"Most assuredly, for he is the only son, and one day must take charge of the works. That is a duty which he cannot shirk and of which he as well as his future wife must render an account."
"Must?" repeated Cecilia. "That seems to be your favorite word, Herr Runeck. You use it at every opportunity. I cannot bear that uncomfortable word, and I do not believe I shall ever be reconciled to it, either."
Egbert seemed to find no special satisfaction in this sort of dialogue, his reply having a touch of impatience about it, that was entirely too suggestive of faultfinding.
"We shall do better not to dispute over it. We belong to two entirely different worlds, and so, naturally, do not understand one another."
Cecilia smiled at having finally moved this man from his imperturbable equilibrium, which she interpreted to almost as an insult. She had not been accustomed anyone denying her the toll of admiration, or speaking of "must," to her. The fire again blazed up brightly, and while Runeck stood aside in the shade, the reflection fell full upon the beautiful girl, who still reclined in her chair, in the same attitude as a while ago. There was something ensnaring in the flickering play of the flames, in the abrupt transition from light to shade; something that was akin to the appearance of the girl herself, who now looked up at the young engineer with moisture dimming the luster of her dark and glowing eyes.
"Why, there may be a bridge that can unite these two worlds," said she playfully. "Perhaps we may come to understand each other–or, think you that it is not worth the trouble?"
"No."
This "no" had a perfectly frigid sound. Cecilia suddenly straightened herself up and darted a look of withering anger upon Egbert.
"You are very–candid, Herr Runeck."
"You misunderstand me, Baroness Wildenrod," said he calmly. "I meant, of course, that it was not worth your while to descend to so inferior a world–nothing more."
Baroness Wildenrod bit her lip. He had parried her thrust in masterly style, and yet she knew what he had meant, she understood the bitter taunt, hidden behind his words. What sort of a man was this, that dared thus to confront the betrothed of his best friend, the future daughter of the house, in which he had received so many favors? Previously she had hardly had a glance to bestow upon this engineer in his subordinate station, now a burning sense of hostility seized her–he was to suffer for having provoked her!
She arose with a brisk movement and turned to Eric and her brother, who were talking together. Egbert remained where he was, but his eyes followed the brother and sister, while he murmured under his breath:
"Poor Eric, you have fallen into bad hands!"
Night had come and the family had already separated. They wanted their guests–who had made rather a fatiguing journey that day–to retire early to rest, but this they had not yet done.
In the boudoir, attached to the suite of company-rooms, were Oscar and Cecilia Wildenrod to be found. They were alone. The perfume of the flowers with which Maia had given so graceful a welcome to her future sister-in-law, still filled the room, but neither of this pair paid any heed to it. Cecilia stood in the center of the room, but the smile that she had worn and the amiability which she had manifested all day had both vanished now. She looked excited, provoked, and her voice had the intonation of suppressed passion.
"And so you are not content with me, Oscar? I should think that I had done everything possible to be done this day, and still you have fault to find with me."
"You were too incautious in your expressions," criticised Oscar; "much too incautious. You hardly took the trouble to conceal your disapproval of Odensburg. Take heed, Eric's father, is very sensitive on that point, anything like that he does not pardon."
"Am I, for whole weeks here to act a farce, and pretend to be enthusiastic over this abominable place, that is far more unbearable even than I had supposed? One is cut off here and thrust out of the world, as it were, buried between mountains and dark forests. Then the immediate proximity of those works with their noise and their crowd of coarse laborers, but above all these people here! Little Maia is the only one endurable. My future father-in-law, though, seems to have a very domineering nature, and tyrannizes over his whole household. I shudder before his stern countenance. What a look he gave me upon my arrival, as though he wanted to look me through and through. And that tiresome Frau von Ringstedt with her prim state, and that just as stupid pale-looking governess–but, above all, that so-called friend of Eric's youth, who said things to me–" she suddenly broke off, and with a pettish movement threw her fan upon the table. Wildenrod had quietly listened to all this harangue, without making any attempt to soothe her, at those last words, however, he grew attentive.
"What things?" he asked quickly and sharply. "What did he say to you?"
"Oh, not so much in words, but I knew perfectly well what was implied, although not expressed. If we had not just met for the first time, I should believe that he hated both you and me. There was something so inimical in his cold, steel-gray eyes, when he talked to me and they had precisely the same expression when he mentioned, to you, your having met in Berlin."
Wildenrod gazed upon his sister in surprise, he had never before perceived that she was gifted with such keen powers of observation.
"You seem to have been studying him very closely," he remarked. "As for the rest, you have judged quite correctly. This Runeck is extremely disagreeable, perhaps even dangerous. We'll be even with him though."
"Once for all, I cannot stand such surroundings!" cried Cecilia with renewed heat. "You have always told me that Eric would live with me in the great world, we have never had any other idea, but here there seems to be no talk of any such thing. They regard it as a matter of course that we should take up our residence at Odensburg, and have ruthlessly made the announcement to me already. Upon my marriage, am I to renounce everything that lends life its charm for me, and under the oversight of my high-and-mighty father-in-law, learn housekeeping and all the other domestic virtues that he seems to rate so high, and for my reward to be allowed a daily promenade through his works? For there seems to be no talk here of any other pleasure."
"The question is not one of pleasure but necessity," said Oscar in a low sharp tone: "I thought I had made that sufficiently clear to you when we accepted the invitation. Already, on the day of your engagement, you forced me to give you a hint of the truth, that I would have preferred to conceal from you, and since then you have learned all without reserve. Our fortune has been all lost, how and when does not concern you, but what you have to deal with is the fact. I have hitherto managed to maintain ourselves in handsome style, through what sacrifices I alone know; but there comes a time when even the last resources fail, and to that point we have now arrived. If you cast away, through your own folly, the brilliant future that I have opened up to you by tying this knot, know that you will no longer have any pretension to what you call life: then you must descend to an existence of poverty and privation–must I once more recall this to your mind?"
This harsh exhortation had its effect: poverty and privation were two things from which Baroness Wildenrod shrank, although she had only a misty idea of what they were. Already the bare idea that she might be forced to give up the brilliant life that she had hitherto led horrified her, and broke down her resistance. She bowed her head and was silent, while her brother continued:
"I have hitherto treated you, for the most part, as they do spoiled children, not deeming it needful to show you the serious phase of life; but now I require–do you hear, Cecilia, I require--that you submit absolutely to my will, and do as I shall direct. You are not married yet, and Dernburg is just the man to break the engagement at the last minute, if there should arise in his mind grave doubts as to its expediency. You have to cultivate his favor first of all, for Eric is altogether passive in his disposition,