Fickle Fortune Part 14

'But there must be some grounds for this mutual dislike. Young Ettersberg's manners are not particularly agreeable, I must say.'

'Ah, but he has a real genius for farming and agriculture generally.

Now, if _he_ were the heir coming into his own, things would wear a very different aspect here. He sees clearly how the estates are being mismanaged; and the other day, when he was over at Brunneck, he gave me some hints and information which will lead me to take serious steps myself, if Edmund will not act. We talked the matter over thoroughly.'

'Yes, and at great length,' rejoined the lady. 'It almost seemed to me as if Herr von Ettersberg held you to the conversation purposely, that he might not have to listen to all Edmund's tender speeches to his beloved.'

'I am afraid he has some nonsensical high-flying notions in his head,'

said Rustow. 'The marriage does not meet with his high approval. I saw that the very day of the accident. He received us here at Ettersberg, and when Edmund lifted his future wife out of the carriage, my young gentleman looked as if the skies had fallen upon him; he darted a glance at the pair which by no means pleased me. However, he recovered himself in a minute, and was very polite, expressing regret at his aunt's accident, and wishes for his cousin's happiness, but in a cool, half-hearted sort of way which showed that both were forced. He does not appear to possess much heart, but a genius for farming he has, and no mistake.'

'Did that flattering compliment refer to me?' asked Edmund, who just then drew near with Hedwig, and overheard the last words.

Rustow turned.

'To you, no! We were talking of your cousin. You, I am sorry to say, have no practical gifts that I have been able to discover.'

'None in the world,' Edmund laughingly a.s.sured him. 'That was made plain to me the other day when I was over at Brunneck, and you were engrossed in one of your endless debates about forest-culture and drainage. Hedwig and I only caught a word here and there, but that was enough to make us yawn.'

'These are views which promise well for a landed proprietor, I must say,' remarked the Councillor tartly. 'So our conversation made you yawn, did it? Why, you and Hedwig had not a sensible word to say to each other. I heard nothing but jokes and laughter. Yet you had every cause to listen with attention. The state of the timber on your----'

'Oh, for Heaven's sake, spare me all that to-day,' broke in Edmund.

'If you really must talk on these subjects, I will bring you over the genius you admire so much. Oswald is capable of discussing timber all the evening. But where is he, I wonder? I have missed him for the last quarter of an hour or so. Everard, have you seen Herr von Ettersberg?

Perhaps he is over in the ballroom.'

'No, Count, I have just come from there,' replied the old servant, who was pa.s.sing with a tray.

'Well, I shall have to go and look him up myself. One can never reckon on Oswald on such occasions as this. He leaves the entire burden on me. Come, Hedwig, dancing will begin soon; we ought to go and see that all the necessary arrangements are made.'

So saying, the young Count placed Hedwig's hand within his arm, and led her away to the ballroom, which lay at the other extremity of the long and glittering suite of apartments.

The s.p.a.cious ballroom was for the moment quite empty, as also was the adjoining conservatory, and this fact probably had beguiled Oswald into seeking a refuge there. The intention he had expressed of leaving Ettersberg at once had been combated on all sides, and especially by Edmund, who warmly insisted on his cousin remaining at the castle, and besieged him perpetually with entreaties and reproaches. The Countess even, and Baron Heideck, after due reflection, had decided that it might be a serious matter to provoke an open rupture with this rebellious nephew, and to launch him forth into the world in hostile mood. They therefore also opposed his departure. The family differences, which could not be healed, must at least be hidden from others. No further opposition should thwart the young man's plans.

It was agreed that his future should be left altogether in his own hands; so he had yielded to the pressure put upon him, and consented to stay on until the autumn, according to his original intention.

Oswald was standing before a group of camellias, apparently absorbed in the contemplation of their wealth of bloom. In reality he was insensible to it, as to all else around him. The expression of his countenance had little in common with the general rejoicing of the day, which placed the young Lord of Ettersberg in full possession of his own. An ominous frown contracted his brow, which had been smooth enough as he mixed in the ranks of the company. It was one of those moments when the mask of calm, imperturbable indifference was dropped.

This mask the habit of years and the young man's self-control had enabled him to a.s.sume, but how foreign to his real nature was the indifference he feigned might be seen from his heaving breast and clenched teeth as he now stood alone, battling with himself. It had been impossible to him to remain amid the brilliant throng. He felt he must seek solitude, that he might draw breath freely, that he might not stifle beneath the crowd of thoughts which surged wildly through his mind. Was this really but the mean, bitter envy of an ingrate, who repaid benefits received with hate, and could not forgive the Fortune which favoured his cousin more highly than himself? Oswald's att.i.tude implied more than this. There was in it something of the proud defiance with which a subdued and downtrodden right may at times a.s.sert itself, something of unspoken yet menacing protest against all the gay, splendid doings of the day.

'So here you are!' Edmund's voice broke in upon the stillness.

Oswald started and turned round, to behold the young Count standing in the doorway. Edmund went up to him now quickly, and continued, in a reproachful tone:

'You seem to look upon yourself quite in the light of a guest to-day!

You turn your back on the company and devote yourself to a quiet inspection of these camellias, instead of helping me to do the honours of the house.'

A moment had sufficed to restore to Oswald his wonted calm, but there was a lurking bitterness in his tone as he replied:

'That, I imagine, is your business exclusively. Are you not the hero of the day?'

'No doubt, in a double capacity,' replied Edmund lightly. 'As a man coming into his property, and a man about to be married. In this last quality, I have to read you a lecture. You have omitted to ask Hedwig for a dance; yet you might have foreseen that she would be besieged by pet.i.tions on all sides. Luckily, I interfered in your behalf, and have secured for you the only waltz that was left at her disposal. I hope you will duly appreciate my self-abnegation.'

It hardly seemed to be appreciated, or at least not in the measure expected. Oswald's answer betrayed a marked coldness.

'You are very kind. To tell you the truth, it had been my intention not to dance this evening.'

'Now this is too bad!' exclaimed his cousin angrily. 'It would be shameful if you were to refuse now. Why should you? you used to dance formerly.'

'Because my aunt would not excuse me. The duty was always an onerous one. You know how little taste I have for dancing.'

Edmund shrugged his shoulders.

'No matter; this waltz you will have to undertake, whether you like it or not. I have expressly retained it for you.'

'If Fraulein Rustow has consented----'

'"Fraulein Rustow"! Just the tone in which Hedwig said, "If Herr von Ettersberg desires it"! How often have I asked you both to give up this stiff form of address, and to behave towards each other as relations should? But it seems to me that every time you meet you grow more formal and freezing. This is getting quite unbearable.'

'I was not aware that I had been wanting in proper respect towards the lady of your choice.'

'Oh no, certainly not. You are, on the contrary, so exceedingly reverential to each other, that it chills the very blood in my veins to listen to you. I really do not understand you, Oswald. The reserve you affect towards Hedwig is so patent, so obvious, you positively cannot complain if she is occasionally a little ... a little brusque in her manner towards you.'

Oswald accepted the rebuke with perfect equanimity. His hand toyed, absently as it were, with one of the flowering branches as he replied:'

'Say no more about it, Edmund--be very sure that this reserve of mine meets the lady's wishes exactly. As you have asked for a waltz in my name, I shall claim it, of course, but you must not force me to take any further part in the ball. It really was my intention not to dance tonight at all.'

'All right,' said Edmund, who was as easily appeased as ruffled, and whose anger never lasted long. 'If you are bent on depriving the ladies of a partner, I cannot compel you to favour them, and nothing shall induce me to put myself out of temper tonight. It really would be thankless of me on such a day as this, a day which fulfils my every wish. You see, Hedwig and I were right not to take a tragic view of the situation, though Rustow's deed of heroism settled the matter more quickly than we had ventured to hope. The feud between the houses is at an end, and our romance winds up to the merry tune of wedding-bells. I knew it would be so!'

The fearless, happy confidence which marked the young Count's bearing, and was to-day more strikingly expressed than ever, formed a strong contrast to his cousin's almost gloomy gravity. Oswald's eyes rested with a dark and moody gaze on the other's bright face.

'You are Fortune's favoured child,' he said slowly. 'All the good things of this life fall to your share.'

'All?' repeated Edmund jestingly. 'No; you are in error there. My future father-in-law's genuine admiration, for instance, is given to you. He declares you are a heaven-born genius, extols your practical notions, and no doubt in his heart regrets that you are not destined to be his son-in-law in my stead.'

Harmless as was the jest, and lightly as the words were spoken, they produced a visible and painful effect. Oswald's brow contracted darkly, and he replied with much irritation:

'How often have I begged you to spare me this perpetual banter? Cannot you desist from it for once, if it be only for a moment?'

Count Edmund, who greatly enjoyed the spectacle of his cousin's wrath, broke into a fit of laughter.

'Make your mind easy,' he said. 'I should be the first to protest against an exchange, and I hardly think Hedwig would be disposed to agree to it. I have no intention of abdicating in your favour. But now come. It is high time for us to return to the guests.'

Oswald, who had no further pretext for lingering behind, obeyed the summons, and the two young men returned together to the reception-rooms. Here the heir's absence had already been remarked.

The Countess's eyes were roving in impatient quest of her son, for she was waiting to give the signal for the dancing to begin, and a cloud lay on fair Hedwig's brow as the two gentlemen entered. The young lady thought it most unnecessary that Edmund should go off in search of his unsociable cousin, and could not excuse him for deserting her side for such an object. She did not like this particular new relation, with his icy hauteur and reserve, which never condescended to a word of flattery or admiration, and therefore gave herself little trouble to conceal from him the fact that the promise of a waltz had been almost wrested from her. Oswald was constrained to utter some words of thanks, but even in so doing he let it be seen that he was in reality little moved by the high distinction conferred on him. No special attention was vouchsafed his speech. Hedwig made a brief reply, cold as the address had been, diligently studying the design of her fan as she spoke, and then turned at once to her affianced husband. Poor Edmund saw that his efforts to establish a friendship between his cousin and future wife were worse than useless; they invariably produced an effect contrary to that desired. He had to confess to himself that this, his latest half-playful, half-serious attempt to bring the two together, had resulted in a complete fiasco.

The ball now began in earnest, and soon all the younger members of the company were taking part in its revels. Oswald von Ettersberg was the one exception. He remained true to his resolution, and abstained from dancing, to the great displeasure of the Countess. Since their last interview, however, that lady had refrained from any attempt to control her nephew, and she now allowed him to have his way in silence. Edmund and Hedwig, on the other hand, gave themselves up heart and soul to the pleasure of the hour. They both danced well, and were pa.s.sionately fond of the exercise. It would have been difficult to find a handsomer couple than the young heir and his promised bride as they floated through the room, radiant with youth, happiness, and beauty, surrounded by the aureole of wealth and Fortune's fairest gifts. Not a cloud dimmed the broad, sunshiny horizon of their future.

Baron Heideck himself must that evening have given in his adhesion, have become reconciled to his nephew's choice, so charming did the young girl appear in her dress of pale pink silk adorned with airy white laces and roses strewn, as it seemed, with a random hand. Her luxuriant curly hair, restrained by no net, but held together simply by a flowering spray, waved over her shoulders in all its rich abundance. A happy light shone in the dark-blue eyes, and the beautiful face, slightly flushed by the rapid movement of the dance, beamed with youthful excitement and delight--perhaps a little also with gratified vanity, for it could not be doubtful that the young lady was conscious of her all-conquering charms and of the triumph she had that evening achieved.

To this triumph Edmund was by no means insensible. The evident admiration which his betrothed excited on all sides flattered him most agreeably. He was unremitting in his attentions to Hedwig, and perfectly captivating in his general efforts to please. Oswald was right. The Count was indeed the favoured child of Fortune--of Fortune, which, in addition to all that had been his from birth, now set him free to follow the dictates of his heart. Truly, all the good things of this life fell to his share.