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- float: left; - margin-right: 1em } - -.align-right { clear: right; - float: right; - margin-left: 1em } - -.align-center { margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto } - -div.shrinkwrap { display: table; } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { margin: 5% 10% 5% 10% } - -/* compact list items containing just one p */ -li p.pfirst { margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0 } - -.first { margin-top: 0 !important; - text-indent: 0 !important } -.last { margin-bottom: 0 !important } - -span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } -img.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; max-width: 25% } -span.dropspan { font-variant: small-caps } - -.no-page-break { page-break-before: avoid !important } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.lineno { position: absolute; left: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.lineno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.toc-pageref { float: right } - -@media screen { - .coverpage, .frontispiece, .titlepage, .verso, .dedication, .plainpage - { margin: 10% 0; } - - div.clearpage, div.cleardoublepage - { margin: 10% 0; border: none; border-top: 1px solid gray; } - - .vfill { margin: 5% 10% } -} - -@media print { - div.clearpage { page-break-before: always; padding-top: 10% } - div.cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 10% } - - .vfill { margin-top: 20% } - h2.title { margin-top: 20% } -} - -/* DIV */ -pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } -</style> -<title>DIVIDING WATERS</title> -<meta name="PG.Title" content="Dividing Waters" /> -<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" /> -<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> -<meta name="PG.Released" content="2015-07-16" /> -<meta name="PG.Id" content="49460" /> -<meta name="DC.Title" content="Dividing Waters" /> -<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" /> -<meta name="DC.Created" content="1911" /> -<meta name="DC.Creator" content="I. A. R. Wylie" /> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> - -<link href="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" rel="schema.DCTERMS" /> -<link href="http://id.loc.gov/vocabulary/relators/" rel="schema.MARCREL" /> -<meta content="Dividing Waters" name="DCTERMS.title" /> -<meta content="/home/ajhaines/waters/waters.rst" name="DCTERMS.source" /> -<meta content="en" name="DCTERMS.language" scheme="DCTERMS.RFC4646" /> -<meta content="2015-07-16T16:53:19.229353+00:00" name="DCTERMS.modified" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" /> -<meta content="Project Gutenberg" name="DCTERMS.publisher" /> -<meta content="Public Domain in the USA." name="DCTERMS.rights" /> -<link href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/49460" rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" /> -<meta content="I. A. R. Wylie" name="DCTERMS.creator" /> -<meta content="2015-07-16" name="DCTERMS.created" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" /> -<meta content="width=device-width" name="viewport" /> -<meta content="Ebookmaker 0.4.0a5 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" name="generator" /> -</head> -<body> -<div class="document" id="dividing-waters"> -<h1 class="center document-title level-1 pfirst title"><span class="x-large">DIVIDING WATERS</span></h1> - -<!-- this is the default PG-RST stylesheet --> -<!-- figure and image styles for non-image formats --> -<!-- default transition --> -<!-- default attribution --> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="clearpage"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="container language-en pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States -and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no -restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the </span><a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a><span> included with -this ebook or online at </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>. If you -are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws -of the country where you are located before using this ebook.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<div class="container" id="pg-machine-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>Title: Dividing Waters -<br /> -<br />Author: I. A. R. Wylie -<br /> -<br />Release Date: July 16, 2015 [EBook #49460] -<br /> -<br />Language: English -<br /> -<br />Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line"><span>*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>DIVIDING WATERS</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p> -</div> -<div class="container titlepage"> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold xx-large">DIVIDING WATERS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">BY</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold large">I. A. R. WYLIE</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="small">AUTHOR OF -<br />"THE RAJAH'S PEOPLE," "MY GERMAN YEAR"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">SECOND EDITION</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">MILLS & BOON, LIMITED -<br />49 RUPERT STREET -<br />LONDON, W.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="container verso"> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics small">Published</em><span class="small"> 1911</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="italics small">Copyright</em><span class="small"> 1911 </span><em class="italics small">in the United States of America by I. A. R. Wylie</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CONTENTS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>BOOK I</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">CHAP.</span></p> -<ol class="upperroman simple"> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-mistakes-of-providence">The Mistakes of Providence</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#wanderlust">"Wanderlust"</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#an-experiment">An Experiment</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#outward-bound">Outward Bound</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#among-the-heathen">Among the Heathen</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-letter-home">A Letter Home</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-duet">A Duet</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-awakening">The Awakening</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#renunciation">Renunciation</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#youth-and-the-barrier">Youth and the Barrier</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#wolff-makes-his-debut-in-delford">Wolff makes his Debut in Delford</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#nora-forsakes-her-country">Nora Forsakes Her Country</a></p> -</li> -</ol> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>BOOK II</span></p> -<ol class="upperroman simple"> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-new-home">The New Home</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#and-the-new-life">—And the New Life</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-meeting">A Meeting</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-visitor-arrives-in-karlsburg">A Visitor Arrives in Karlsburg</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-cub-as-lion">The Cub as Lion</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#in-which-the-rev-john-receives-a-shock">In Which the Rev. John Receives a Shock</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#wolff-sells-a-horse-and-nora-loses-a-friend">Wolff Sells a Horse and Nora Loses a Friend</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#rising-shadows">Rising Shadows</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#arnold-receives-his-explanation">Arnold Receives His Explanation</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#nemesis">Nemesis</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-fetish">The Fetish</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#war-clouds">War-Clouds</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#ultimatum">Ultimatum</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-code-of-honour">The Code of Honour</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-sea-between">The Sea Between</a></p> -</li> -</ol> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>BOOK III</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>THE BRIDGE</span></p> -<ol class="upperroman simple"> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#home">Home</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#exiled">Exiled</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#revelation">Revelation</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-bridge-across">The Bridge Across</a></p> -</li> -</ol> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-mistakes-of-providence"><span class="bold x-large">DIVIDING WATERS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">BOOK I</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER I</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE MISTAKES OF PROVIDENCE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The family Ingestre sat in conclave. That they sat -together at all at any time other than a meal-time -was in itself sufficient proof that the subject of their -debate was unusually serious: their faces and attitudes -added conclusive evidence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Reverend John Ingestre occupied his chair of -state at the head of the long table. He was a -middle-sized man, with narrow, sloping shoulders, which were -at that particular moment drawn up into an -uncomfortable hunch. When he spoke he pulled at his -thin beard and glanced at his wife surreptitiously over -his spectacles, as though seeking her advice or -support—actions which gave his whole person an air of -harassed nervousness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Ingestre did not return her husband's signals. -She lay quietly on the sofa by the window, her hand -half shading her face, and seemed absorbed in her -own thoughts. Only once during the Rev. John's -long and detailed statement did she give any sign -of having heard. Then she shifted her position so -that her grave scrutiny rested on the two younger -members of the family. Perhaps she hoped to learn -from their expressions what they were innerly -experiencing, and therein no doubt she must have -been successful, for their positions alone were -expressive of much.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The boy—or young man, for he was at that -uncertain age when boyhood and manhood meet—had -his hands plunged in his pockets; his long legs were -stretched out in front of him, his chin rested on his -chest. Supreme and energiless despondency seemed -to be imprinted in the very creases of his Norfolk -coat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl had her place at the table. Though she -sat perfectly still, never turning her eyes from her -father's face, there was something in her rigid attitude -which suggested irritation and impatience. Her hands -lay in her lap; only a close observer would have seen -that they were not folded, but clenched, so that the -knuckles stood out white.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So you see, my dear children," the Rev. John -said at last, coming to his peroration, "I felt it my -duty to lay the case before you exactly as it stands. -For a long time I hoped that it would not be necessary -for me to do so—that a merciful Providence would -spare me the pain of inflicting upon you so sharp a -wound. Well, it has been ruled otherwise, and I only -pray that you share with me my one consolation—the -knowledge that it is the will of a Higher Power, and -therefore all for the best."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stopped and waited. In spite of the catastrophe -which he had just announced, there was a trace of -meek satisfaction in his manner, of which he seemed -gradually to become conscious, for he turned to his -wife with a note of apology in his thin voice:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear, I have explained the matter correctly, -I hope?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite correctly, I should think."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Ingestre's hand sank from her face. It was a -finely shaped hand, and whiter, if possible, than the -dress she wore. Everything about her was beautiful -and fragile—painfully fragile. The very atmosphere -around her seemed laden with the perfume of a refined -and nobly borne suffering.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It seems to me there is no possible mistake," -said the young man, getting up roughly. "We -are ruined—that is the long and the short of the -matter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment no one made any attempt to deny -his angry statement. Then the Rev. John shook his -head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You speak too strongly, my dear Miles," he -corrected. "We are not what one would call ruined. -I have still my stipend. There is no idea of—eh—starving, -or anything of that sort; but the superfluous -luxuries must be done away with, and—eh—one or -two sacrifices must be brought."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He coughed, and looked at his daughter. Mrs. Ingestre -looked at her also, and the pale, pain-worn -face became illumined with tenderness and pity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sacrifices," the Rev. John repeated regretfully. -"Such, I fear, must be the payment for our misfortunes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora Ingestre relaxed from her stiff attitude of -self-restraint. The expression of her face said clearly -enough: "The sermon is at an end, and the plate -being handed round. How much am I expected to -put in?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was of your career I was thinking, my dear -Miles," the Rev. John answered. "I am quite -aware that your whole future depends on your -remaining in the Army, therefore we have decided -that—that sacrifices must be brought for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He hesitated again, and threw another glance at -his wife's pale face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora, I am sure you see the necessity of what I say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His daughter started, as though he had awakened -her from a reverie.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I do," she said, with an abrupt energy. "We -must all help each other as much as we can. I shall -just work like a nigger."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eh—yes," said her father doubtfully. "I am -sure you will. Of course, we shall have to dismiss -some of the servants, and your mother will need—eh—more -assistance than hitherto—and I know, dear -Nora——" He coughed, and left the sentence -unfinished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whether it was his manner or her mother's face -which aroused her to closer attention, Nora Ingestre -herself could not have said. She became suddenly -aware that all three were looking at her, and that she -was expected to say something.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't quite understand," she said. "It is only -natural that I should help all I can, only——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was her turn to stop short. She too had risen -to her feet, and quite unconsciously she drew herself -upright like a person preparing for attack from some -as yet unknown quarter. Like her father, she was -not above the middle height, but she had her mother's -graceful, well-proportioned build, which made her -seem taller than she really was, and added to that a -peculiar resolute dignity that was all her own. It -was, perhaps, to this latter attribute that she owed -the unacknowledged respect in which she was held -both by her father and brother. For it is a set rule -that we must admire most what is in direct contrast -to ourselves; and it had never been in the Rev. John's -power either to carry himself erect, or to give himself -anything but the appearance of a meek and rather -nervous man. It was owing to this inherent respect -that he hesitated at the present moment. Perhaps -he realised at the bottom of his heart that it was not -an altogether fair proceeding to load his mistaken -monetary speculations on the shoulders of a -disinterested Providence, and that his family might -have other, if secret, views as to the real responsibility. -At any rate, he was not sufficiently convinced of his -own absolute innocence to meet his daughter's -grave, questioning eyes with either firmness or -equanimity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear," he said, "we want you at home." And -therewith he considered he had put the case -both concisely and gently. But Nora continued to -look at him, and he grew irritated because she did -not seem able to understand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Surely you can see that—that there are certain -things for which we have neither the time nor the -money?" he said, drumming on the table with his -thin fingers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A deep wave of colour mounted Nora Ingestre's -cheeks. She did not speak, however, until it had -died away again, leaving her unusually pale.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean—I must give up—everything?" she -asked in a low voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If by 'everything' you mean your musical -studies—yes," her father returned impatiently. The next -minute he relented, and, leaning forward, took her -passive hand in his. "But surely it is not -'everything,'" he said. "Surely your home and your people -are more to you than even this favourite pursuit? I -know it is hard for you—it is indeed hard for us all; -but if we kept our promise and sent you to London -other things would have to pay for it—the dear old -house, the garden, Miles's career. You see how it is? -You know there is nothing for your real good that I -would withhold from you if I could help it, dear -child."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He waited, expecting her to throw herself into his -arms in generous self-reproach at her own hesitation; -but she said nothing, and there was a long, -uncomfortable silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And then time will not hang heavy on your -hands," he went on, with forced cheerfulness. "Your -mother will need you and I shall need you—good little -amanuensis that you are! Is it not something to -you that we all need you so much?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The monosyllable encouraged him, though it would -have encouraged no one else.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And, of course, in between whiles you will be -able to keep up your music," he added, patting her -hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This time there was not even a monosyllable to -reassure him. Nora Ingestre stood motionless at her -father's side, her eyes fixed straight ahead, her fine, -resolute features set, and almost expressionless.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles swung impatiently on his heel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't think what you are making all this fuss -about," he said. "You ought to be jolly glad that -we can keep on the old place, and that you have such -a decent home. I know lots of girls who would give -their eyes to be in your shoes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have I been making a fuss?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She spoke perfectly quietly, without changing her -position, but her question seemed to cause Miles fresh -annoyance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I call it a fuss to stand there and say nothing," -he said, with sound masculine logic. "And anyhow—what -does it matter whether you can tinkle a few -tunes on the old tin-kettle or not?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is something you do not understand," she -blazed out. It was as though he had unwittingly -set fire to some hidden powder-mine in her character. -She was breathing quickly and brokenly, and every -line in her face betrayed a painfully repressed feeling -which threatened to break out into passionate expression.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Ingestre rose from her couch. When she -stood upright she seemed to dominate them all, to -command silence and respect, by the very dignity of -her bearing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think this has all lasted long enough," she said. -"What is done cannot be undone. We must face -matters as best we can. As your father says, it is -the will of Providence, and as such we must accept -it. Only"—she turned to Miles, and from the faintest -possible inflection of irony her tone deepened to -reproof—"there are some things you do not -understand, dear boy, and which you had better leave to -wiser heads. Perhaps I understand better. At any -rate, I should like to speak to Nora alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus she virtually dismissed the masculine members -of the family. Miles shrugged his shoulders, and -went out into the garden whistling. The Rev. John -rose, and gathered up the business papers which he -had brought in with him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sure that your mother will show it is all for -the best," he said weakly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the door he turned and looked back over his -spectacles.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Remember always what we have both tried to -impress upon you—it is the will of Providence," he -said. "We must not kick against the pricks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He then went out, leaving the two women alone.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="wanderlust"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER II</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"WANDERLUST"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>For some minutes mother and daughter did not speak. -Nora had turned her back, and was gazing out on to -the pleasant country garden with eyes that saw -neither the flowers nor the evening shadows which -lengthened out over the lawn. She was still too -profoundly occupied in the effort to appear indifferent, -to cover over that one slip of feeling, to notice what -was going on about her. She hated herself for having -shown what she felt, she hated herself for feeling as -she did; but no amount of hatred or self-condemnation -would retrieve the one or change the other, and -when she at last turned, aroused by the prolonged -silence, the signals of anger and resentment still -burned in her cheeks and eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I am a wretch," she cried impetuously. -"Dearest, don't look so grave and distressed. It -isn't your fault that you have such a disagreeable -daughter. There, I ought to be a help and comfort, -and instead——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"An old woman does not need so much help and -comfort as a young one," Mrs. Ingestre interrupted -gently. "Just at present I am not suffering -one-tenth of what you are suffering. And, dear Nora, -don't treat me like some frail old wreck that must -be shielded at all costs from the rough winds. Don't -stand there and swallow up everything you are feeling -because you are afraid of hurting me. It will only -rankle all the worse. I would rather have your full -confidence, however painful it may be. Come here -and sit down beside me. Tell me everything you are -thinking and feeling, honest Injun!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The "honest Injun" brought a smile to Nora's -eyes. Like everything else that she said or did, -Mrs. Ingestre stamped the schoolboy phrase with an exotic, -indefinable charm that was all her own. Yet beneath -the half-gay appeal there lay a note of command, -and Nora drew nearer awkwardly and hesitatingly, -bereft for the moment of her youthful assurance and -thrust back to the school days which at the age of -nineteen are not so far away. She took the white -outstretched hand and stood with bent head, frowning -at the carpet. Suddenly she knelt down and buried -her face in her mother's lap.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I feel like a trapped rabbit," she murmured -indistinctly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A very faint smile touched Mrs. Ingestre's lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A trapped rabbit, Nora? And who has trapped -you, pray?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have, and you know it. You always do!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Really, dear, it would have to be a very old and -shortsighted rabbit to allow me to trap it, and you -are neither. You must explain."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora lifted her face. She was laughing, but she -was also very near crying.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I mean—that is how you make me feel," she -said. "I can defy other people when they want to -do any soul-exploring on my territory. I just shut -my mouth and my heart, and leave them out in the -cold. But you are different. You mesmerise me till -I not only have to tell you what I am feeling, but -I positively </span><em class="italics">want</em><span> to—even though it is the most -disgraceful, most disreputable feeling possible."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And just now——?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was a thought."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What sort of a thought?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A dreadful one."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Couldn't you tell me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course I can—I must—but——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you want to know exactly?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Word for word."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was thinking what a duffer father is—was, I mean."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A complete silence. Mrs. Ingestre stroked her -daughter's hand and stared sightlessly into the -deepening shadows. The smile had died from her lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go on," she said at last.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think there is anything else. I always -think that when father talks about Providence -and—and that sort of thing. I feel sometimes that if -Providence took human shape and was in the room -at the time I should wink—I am not sure I don't -wink inside me, anyhow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She waited, and then, as Mrs. Ingestre said nothing, -she went on disconsolately:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know I am awful, darling. I wonder if other -people have shocking ideas too, or whether I am the -wicked exception?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think so," Mrs. Ingestre said. "One -can't help one's thoughts, you know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, one can't; can one? The more one sits on -them, the more uproarious they get. Are you cross?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you—ever have thoughts like that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora, I am not feeling in the least like a trapped -rabbit, if that's what you mean."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora laughed outright. Her youth and buoyant -spirits won the upper hand for the moment, but for -no longer. The actual subject of their conversation -interposed itself between her humour and herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why did father try and make money in Mexico?" -she demanded suddenly and sharply. "We were -rich enough before, and now we are so poor that we -have to give up everything that makes life worth -living, in order to live."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear child, do you really think that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I don't </span><em class="italics">think</em><span> that. If I thought, I daresay I -should see that, as the world goes, I am a very lucky -girl. But I </span><em class="italics">feel</em><span>—awful! And the feelings always -count most with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Ingestre nodded to herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They count most with all normal people," she -said; "and those who govern their lives by their heads -are not, as a rule, either the happiest or the cleverest. -Still, Nora, is it such a sacrifice?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is the music so dear to you that it is the only -thing which makes life worth living?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora did not answer, and with a firm, gentle hand -Mrs. Ingestre tilted her daughter's head backwards, -so that she could look straight into the overcast grey -eyes. A very faint smile played about the corners of -her own mouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora, you know, a few months ago, when we -promised to send you up to London to begin your -studies, we were comparatively rich people. Rich -people can afford luxuries, and our pet luxury was to -imagine that our little girl was a genius who was -going to show the world great things. We meant to -give you every chance—we would have seen that -our ship lacked nothing to make its first passage in -public waters a success. Well, we are poor now, and -the first luxury which we must part with is that -fond hope. You and I must face the fact—you are -a sweet musician, not a genius."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother, you knew that all the time—as well as I did."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A pale rose sprang to Mrs. Ingestre's cheeks. Quite -unconsciously she avoided her daughter's challenging -eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother, why did you pretend to think -otherwise?" Nora went on. "Did you believe me so -silly as to imagine myself anything more than an -amateur? Why, of course I knew. I had only to -compare myself with others."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And yet you let us think and talk about you as a -genius!" Mrs. Ingestre interposed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora nodded defiantly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was a humbug," she declared. "I wanted to -go to London. It seemed the only way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wasn't that a rather disreputable way?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not more disreputable than yours. I remember, -when father complained about the useless expense -you told him it was a sin against Providence not to -encourage Genius. It was then I first made the -discovery that when you are most serious you are -really laughing—at father and me and every one."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora! Nora!" The tone of mild reproof died -away Mother and daughter looked each other in -the eyes and laughed. When she had done laughing, -Mrs. Ingestre bent down and kissed the girl lightly -on the forehead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You pry too deep to be an altogether very respectful -person," she said; "but since you have pryed, I -must make the best of it and confess. I knew your -father would not understand my ideas, so I too -humbugged a little—just a very little. I wanted you to -go to London, and afterwards into the world. It -was the only way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And now this is the end of it all!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora Ingestre rose and stood by her mother's side. -Her voice rang with all the protest and despair of -which youth is so capable—very real protest and -very real despair, whole-hearted and intense, as is -the way with youth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It wasn't the music," she went on. "I loved it, -of course, but I wanted to see the world and people -more than anything else. I wanted the world so -badly, mother. I felt like a caged animal that sees -the forests and the plains through its prison bars. I -wanted to get out and be free. Oh, you can't -understand—you can't!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Ingestre stirred suddenly, as though a wound -had been touched with rough fingers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do understand," she said. But Nora was too -young, above all, too absorbed in her own griefs, to -hear all that was hidden in her mother's words.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At any rate, no one else would understand," she -went on. "Father wouldn't, Miles wouldn't, and the -whole village wouldn't. They would all say I was a -New Woman, or unwomanly, or something—why, I -don't know. I don't care whether I have a vote or -not. I can cook and I can sew; I love children. -All that sort of thing is womanly, isn't it? Isn't it -womanly to want to live, and to know what life means? -Nobody thinks it strange that Miles, though he has -no talent for anything except loafing, should travel, -should live away from home and get to know other -people. It is all for his development! But I am not -to develop, it seems. Perhaps development isn't -womanly. Perhaps the only right thing for me to -do is to look after the flowers and worry the cook -and bore myself through my days with tea-parties -and tennis-parties and occasional match-making -dances, until somebody asks me to be his wife, -and I marry him to save myself from turning into a -vegetable!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She stopped, breathless with her fierce torrent of -sarcasm and bitterness. Her cheeks were flushed, her -hands clenched; there were tears in her bright eyes. -Mrs. Ingestre rose and followed her daughter to the -window, whither she had wandered in her restless -energy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How long have you been thinking all this, Nora?" -she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ever since I left school and Miles went to Sandhurst. -Until then it all seemed fair enough. He had -been to school and I had been to school. But after -that, just when I was beginning to learn because I -loved it, just when I was beginning to see things and -understand them—then I was brought home—here—and -there was an end to it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Ingestre put her arm about her daughter's -shoulders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And then you remembered that you were -musical?" she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you discovered that I was a genius!" came -the retort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Ingestre laughed quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I see that we must not throw stones at each other, -or our glass houses will suffer," she said. "And, after -all, it does not matter why either of us wanted it, or -how we managed. You were to go to London and -see a little of the world——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't talk about it, mother!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Only a little, perhaps, but more than your whole -future promises you now, poor child. Now you will -have to stop here and vegetate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora turned and clasped her mother in a tumultuous -embrace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a brute I must seem!" she exclaimed. -"And yet I </span><em class="italics">do</em><span> love you, dearest. I believe I love -you more than most daughters do their mothers, and -I don't believe that I am really more selfish—only, I -can't hide what I feel, and I feel such a lot. Are you -hurt?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Ingestre shook her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is an old woman's privilege to pretend that she -has a reason to feel bitter," she said, "but I am not -in the least bitter, because, you see, I understand. -I understood even before you said anything, and so -I made up my mind that you should be given an -alternative——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"An alternative, mother?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"——To staying here; and Captain Arnold."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A sudden silence fell on both. Mrs. Ingestre, under -cover of the twilight, observed her daughter sharply. -She saw that though Nora's face had grown grave -it showed no sign of any profound feeling, and she -took the quiet, undisturbed colour as an answer to a -question which even she had never ventured to ask.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And so," she went on after a moment, "I wrote -to my old friend, Fräulein Müller, about you, and she -answered two or three days ago, and said she knew -of an excellent position as companion to a lady in -Karlsburg. She thought it would suit you admirably. -You would be treated as one of the family, and have -plenty of time to go on with your own studies. Would -you like it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The proposal came so suddenly, and yet in such a -matter-of-fact tone, that Nora caught her breath and -looked up at her mother in blank surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean," she began slowly, "that I should go -and live in a German family?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With a lot of fat, greasy, gobbling Germans?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know any Germans?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No—at least there was our German music-master -at school, and </span><em class="italics">he</em><span> was fat and greasy, and I am sure -he must have gobbled. He must have done. They -all do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You used to say he played like an angel," Mrs. Ingestre -interposed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So he did. But I hated him all the same. I -hate all Germans."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her tone rang with a sort of school-girl obstinacy. -Her attitude, with lifted chin and straight shoulders, -was eloquent with national arrogance and scorn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Ingestre turned away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall write to Fräulein Müller and tell her to -make all arrangements," she said. "I think, if -everything proves suitable, that you had better go -to Karlsburg."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother! You haven't even given me the choice!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not think it wise to do so," Mrs. Ingestre -answered gravely. "You are right, Nora; you must -see the world. You must go away from here, not -just for the sake of the music, the change, and -excitement, but in order that your heart may grow wider, -in order to learn to love the good that lies outside -your own little sphere. There are great things, great -people outside Delford, Nora—yes, and outside -England. You must learn to know them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl's face flushed crimson.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At the bottom we all despise foreigners and -foreign ways," she said in self-defence. "Father -does, Miles does, the Squire does. And they have all -travelled; they have seen for themselves."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They have travelled with their eyes open and -their hearts closed," Mrs. Ingestre answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How do you know, mother? You have never -been out of England."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Ingestre shook her head. A rather melancholy -smile passed over her wan features.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," she said; "I have never been out of England, -but I have been often, very often, ill, and during the -long hours I have travelled great distances, and I -have begun to think that God cannot surely have -reserved all the virtues for us English. I fancy even -the poor benighted Germans must have their share -of heaven."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora laughed outright.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I expect they have, now I come to think of it," -she admitted gaily. "Mother, you are a much better -Christian than father, though you won't call every -one 'dearly beloved,' and you are yards better -than I am. I can't help it—I despise all foreigners, -especially——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She stopped abruptly, and Mrs. Ingestre smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Still, you will try Karlsburg. It will be an -experience for you, and you will hear good music. -The family is a very old one, and perhaps the -members, being of noble birth, may gobble less than -the others."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All Germans are of noble birth," Nora observed -scornfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So much the better for them," Mrs. Ingestre -returned. "Are you willing to try? You know the -alternative."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"May I think it over, mother?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, you may think over it, if you like. It is, -after all, only a question of your willingness."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That means you have made up your mind?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Ingestre saw the strong young face set into -lines of defiance. She went back to the sofa and -lay down with a sigh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Little Nora," she said, almost under her breath, -"you know it is not my custom to preach. You -won't think, therefore, that I am just 'talking' when -I tell you: years ago I would have given -anything—anything—to have had this chance."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For the first time in their long interview the girl -stopped listening to the self-pitying confusion of her -thoughts. The elder woman's voice had penetrated -her youthful egoism, and she turned with that curious -tugging at the heart which we experience when we -have unexpectedly heard a smothered cry of pain -break from lips usually composed in lines of peace -and apparent content.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother!" Nora exclaimed. The room was now -in almost complete shadow. She came closer and -bent over the quiet face. The atmosphere was heavy -with the scent of roses, and it flashed through Nora's -mind as she stood there that her mother was like a -rose—pale and faded, but still beautiful, still breathing -a wonderful perfume of purity and sweetness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother!" she repeated, strangely awe-struck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Ingestre opened her eyes and smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am very tired," she said. "I think I could -sleep a little. Go and think it over. I want you to -be willing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora bent and kissed her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you wish it, I am willing," she said with -impulsive, whole-hearted surrender. She crept out on -tiptoe, and for a few minutes all was quiet in the -great shadowy room. Then the door opened again, -and the Rev. John entered and peered round -short-sightedly. He saw that his wife's eyes were closed, -and, since it is not kind to waken a weary invalid, he -merely knocked some books off the table and coughed. -Truth to tell, it annoyed him that his wife should -have chosen that identical moment to rest. He -wanted to talk to her, but since in spite of all his -indirect efforts she remained quiet, he went out -again, a disconsolate victim of his own gentle -consideration.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Mrs. Ingestre had not been asleep. Her eyes -were shut, but the eyes of her mental vision were -open. They were watching sunlit panoramas of long -rivers with mountain banks and frowning ruins, -glorious, heaven-inspiring cathedral spires and great -cities. The ears of her imagination had not heard the -Rev. John's clumsy movements. They were listening -to the song of the ocean, the confusion of a strange -tongue, the rich </span><em class="italics">crescendo</em><span> of a wonderful music.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Ingestre had left the room and the vicarage -and the village far behind, and was travelling swiftly -through a world which she had never seen and—since -for her life was near its close—would never see. And -as she travelled, the same thought repeated itself to -her with stern persistency:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whatever it costs you, she must go. You must -not, dare not keep her."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="an-experiment"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER III</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">AN EXPERIMENT</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Breakfast with the Ingestres was a movable and -unsociable feast. The various members of the family -came down when it suited them, the only punishment -being the inevitable one of cold eggs and bitter tea, -and conversation was restricted to the barest -necessities. The Rev. John was usually engrossed in -parochial letters, Mrs. Ingestre was never present at -all, and Miles only at such a time when it pleased him. -Thus Nora, choosing on the morning following the -momentous interview to be an early riser, found -little difficulty in making her escape. The -Rev. John was more absorbed than usual in his post, -since it contained not only letters dealing with his -cure of souls, but also some disagreeable business -facts which he swallowed with his tea in melancholy -gulps.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora kissed him lightly on the high forehead as -she ran toward the open French window. Rather to -her surprise, the customary caress seemed to arouse -her father from his reflections. He looked up and -blinked, like a man who is trying to remember some -important matter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear," he said, before Nora had reached -the lawn, "is it really true that you want to go -abroad? Your mother was talking to me about it -last night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We were thinking about it," Nora admitted, -fidgeting nervously with the blind-cord. "Mother -said she thought it would be good for me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But, my dear child, what shall we do without -you?" her father complained.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora made an almost imperceptible movement of -impatience. She knew of what her father was thinking, -and it did not move her to any great degree -of sympathy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will manage all right," she said. "Mr. Clerk -will help you with your letters." And then, -to cut the conversation short, she went out into the -garden and along the gravel pathway towards the -road.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sun shone gloriously. All the charm of an -English summer morning lay in the air, and Nora -drew in great breaths with a joyous, unconscious -triumph in her own fresh youth and health. The -garden was the one place in the village which she -really loved. The ugly, modern red-brick church, -the straggling "square," with its peppermint -bull's-eye monument to some past "glorious victory," in -which the inhabitants of Delford were dimly supposed -to have had their honourable share, the stuffy -cottages, interspersed here and there by an ivy-overgrown -residence of some big-wig of the neighbourhood—these -features were unaccountably connected in -Nora's mind with her father's sermons, the drone of -the organ, and the dull piety of Sundays. But the -garden was all her mother's. Nora believed that -within its peaceful limits the forgotten and despised -fairies of ancient lore took refuge from the -matter-of-fact bigots who formed Delford's most respectable -community. She had even christened a certain -rose-corner the "Fairy Castle," and it amused her riotous -young fancy to imagine an indignant and horrified -Queen Mab scampering across the lawn in disorganised -flight, before the approach of the enemy in the form -of Mrs. Clerk, the curate's wife, or Mrs. Chester of -the Manor. The garden was, as it were, Mrs. Ingestre's -self-created Eden in the drab-coloured land of the -Philistines, and even the Rev. John was an intruder -and disturber of its poetic peace. Nora felt all this, -and in a dim, unformed way understood why her -mother's roses were different to the roses in other -and richer gardens, why the very atmosphere had its -own peculiar perfume, the silence its own peculiar -mystery. She felt that her mother had translated -herself into the flowers, and that the depths of her -quiet, unfathomable heart were revealed in their beauty -and sweetness. She felt that if she could have read -their language, the very daisies on the lawn would -have lifted the veil which hung between her and the -woman who seemed to her the most perfect on earth. -For, in spite of their close and tender relationship, -Mrs. Ingestre's inner life was for her daughter a sort -of Holy of Holies, into which no human being had ever -ventured.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus, once beyond the reach of her father's voice, -Nora lingered willingly between the rose beds, making -mental comments on the progress of the various -favourites and for the moment forgetting the matter -which was weighing heavily on her mind. At the -gate opening out on to the road, however, she pulled -herself sharply together, with a sudden gravity on her -young face. Either the church steeple visible above -the trees, or the sight of an inquisitive face peering -through the blinds of the house opposite, reminded -her that the frontier of Eden was reached, and that -the dull atmosphere of respectability was about to -encompass her. She went quickly through the village. -Most of the villagers touched their caps as she passed, -and Mrs. Clerk, early bird of charity that she was, -attempted to waylay her, to discuss the desirability -of procuring parish relief for bedridden old Jones, -and, incidentally, of course, to discover how far the -pleasantly lugubrious reports respecting the Ingestres' -disabled fortunes were founded on fact. Nora, -however, avoided her enemy with the assistance of an -absent-minded smile and increased speed, and managed -to reach her destination without further interruption.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her destination was a stile which led out on to a -narrow pathway over the fields. She was fond of -the spot, partly because if you turned your back to -the east it was quite possible to forget that such -things as Delford or the church or the peppermint -bull's-eye monument existed, partly because westwards -the limitless stretch of undulating fields seemed to -suggest freedom and the great world beyond, of which -Nora thought so much. On this particular morning -it was not the view which attracted her, as her rather -unusual conduct testified. She arranged her ruffled -brown hair, stooped, and tightened a shoelace, undid -the second shoelace and retied it with methodical -precision. Then some one said "Good morning, -Nora," and she sprang upright with her cheeks red -with surprise or exertion, or anything else the beholder -chose to suppose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good morning, Robert," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The new-comer took the friendly, outstretched hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was coming to pay a disgracefully early morning -call," he said. "I am awfully glad we have met."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I knew you would come over the fields this -way," she said. "I came because I wanted to see you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He flushed crimson with pleasure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That was decent of you, Nora. You are not -always so kind."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is an exceptional occasion," she answered -gravely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She perched herself on the stile and sat there gazing -thoughtfully in front of her. In that moment she -made a sweet and pleasing picture of English girlhood. -The sunlight played through the trees on to her hair, -picking out the shining red-gold threads, and touching -with warmer glow the softly tinted skin. The -clean-cut, patrician features, dark-arched eyebrows, and -proud, rather full lips seemed to contrast strangely -with the extreme simplicity of her flowered muslin -frock. And indeed she came of another race of -women than that of which Delford and its inhabitants -were accustomed—something finer, more delicate, -more keenly tempered. It was almost impossible to -think of her as the Rev. John's daughter—quite -impossible as Miles Ingestre's sister. One could only -understand the small, aristocratic features when one -remembered that Mrs. Ingestre was her mother. -Captain Arnold remembered the fact keenly that -moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I declare you are Mrs. Ingestre's miniature!" -he exclaimed. "This morning, one would positively -think she had been made twenty years younger, and -perched up there as a surprise-packet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora turned on him with a pleased smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is a nice compliment," she said; "but I -have no time for such things just now. Any moment -Mrs. Clerk might scurry round the corner, and then -my reputation would be gone for ever. She would -probably tell every one that I had come out to meet -you on purpose."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Which is true, by the way, isn't it?" he inquired, -smiling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, quite true; only my reason is respectable—not -the sort of reason that Mrs. Clerk would put down -to my credit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He came closer and, leaning his elbows on the -cross-bars of the stile, looked up into her face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope it is a nice reason," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," she answered, "it is a serious reason, and -not in the least nice. I expect you have already -heard something about it, haven't you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He hesitated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course—I have heard rumours," he said. "As -a rule I ignore such things, but I could not -altogether ignore this; it concerned you and yours too -closely."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Besides, it is true," she added.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"True, Nora?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, quite true. We are ruined."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear girl!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At least, comparatively ruined," she corrected.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment he was silent, apparently intent on -the study of his own strong square hands linked -together in front of him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How did it happen?" he asked at last.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know," she answered impatiently. -"Father bought some shares that aren't any good. -I suppose he wanted to make money." Her tone was -unconsciously scornful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We all want to do that," Arnold observed in defence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The strongly arched eyebrows went up a degree.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At any rate," she said, "it is frightfully rough on -mother. Her life was hard enough before—what -with ill-health and that sort of thing. Now it will -be ten times worse." She clenched her hands in a -sudden passionate protest. "I can't help it," she -went on, "it seems to me all wrong. She is the best, -the cleverest woman I have ever met. She ought to -be the wife of a genius or a great, good man—not -father's wife. Father ought to have married -Mrs. Clerk. Why did she marry him? It is wicked, but -it is the thought which comes into my mind every -time I see them together. And now, when I think -that she will have to scrape and save as well -I——" She stopped short and looked at her companion -defiantly. "I suppose you are very shocked," she -said. "That comes of always feeling as though you -were one of the family. I have to say just what is -passing in my mind."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am glad you have so much confidence in me," -Arnold answered seriously. "All the same, I do not -think that you are just to your father. He is a -thoroughly good man. Many people would think -Mrs. Ingestre very lucky."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps they </span><em class="italics">do</em><span> think so," Nora said, with -indifference. "That is because no one about here is -capable of understanding her. In any case, it's no -good talking about it. This latest trouble is quite -enough."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose Miles will be able to stay in the Army?" -Arnold asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, that's settled."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What about your studies? They will have to be -given up, of course?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why 'of course'?" she flashed out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because there won't be enough money for them," -he explained in a matter-of-fact tone. "For my -part," he went on, "I shall be glad. I dreaded the -thought of coming home on leave and finding you -gone. It would have been sickening."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It will be still more 'sickening' now," she said, -rather revengefully. "I am going away for a long -time, and to a place a long way off."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora! In Heaven's name where and why?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She laughed at his astonished, troubled face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To Karlsburg, in Germany—as a companion."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To Germany! Why do you want to go there?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because I do not want to vegetate here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora, you will hate it. You will be ill with -home-sickness. You don't know what it will be like. -It is not as though you will be among your own -country-people. You will hate their manners, their customs, -their ways, and they will treat you like a servant. -Little Nora, I can't bear the thought of it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He spoke earnestly, almost incoherently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora shook her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is no other alternative," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is one other alternative, Nora. Will you -be my wife?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had taken her hand, and she did not attempt -to draw it back. Nor had she changed colour. Her -clear eyes studied his thin, rather gaunt face, and -passed on with frank criticism to his tall figure, -loosely built and rather stooping, in the grey Norfolk -suit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora," he said sternly, "I have asked you a -question. You do not need to look at me like that. -I am not different to what I usually am."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I am looking at you in a different light," -she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He seemed to think that she was laughing at him, -or that she had not taken him seriously. A deep -flush mounted his sun-burnt cheeks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora, I am very much in earnest," he said, his -grasp on her hand tightening. "Though you are a -child you must have felt long ago that I cared for you -as something more than my little comrade. I love -you, and I have loved you a long time. Will you be -my wife?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She shook her head gravely and regretfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why not?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because I do not love you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you sure? How can you tell? You know -nothing of love."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," she agreed. "That is the very reason I -will not marry you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He let her hand go and stood looking at her with -his lips tightly compressed, as though on a storm of -protest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Would you mind if I was quite honest?" she -went on. "I would rather tell you everything, even -if it makes you think me bad and heartless."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall never think that of you," he said painfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, then, I did know you cared for me," she -continued. "I was always ashamed of myself for -knowing. It seemed conceited of me to imagine -that a grown-up man should want such a child as I -am—still, I couldn't help it. I felt it. It seems one -does feel that sort of thing. It is like electricity in -the air. Anyhow, it did not worry me very much. -I made up my mind that one of these days I would -marry you. It seemed so probable and natural that -I should. We had known each other since I was a -baby and you a school-boy; our families were -connected; we lived in the same neighbourhood; we saw -each other at regular intervals; we never quarrelled—or -hardly ever; we knew each other's faults better -than most people do who marry. Everything seemed -to point in the same direction. But I was such a -school-girl. I felt that there was heaps of time for -me to grow to love you—or perhaps find out that I -loved you already. You see, I wasn't sure. I liked -to be with you; but then, I like to be with any one -who is jolly and amusing, so that wasn't a sure test. -Yesterday I knew that there was no time left me. I -guessed that I should have to decide between you and -Karlsburg. It sounds horrid, but it is the truth. -And I could not decide—I simply could not. Then -I thought—perhaps if you </span><em class="italics">asked</em><span> me, perhaps if you -told me about </span><em class="italics">your</em><span> love, it would awaken some sort -of an answer in me—I should feel some sort of signal -such as I should imagine a woman would feel if the -being with whom she is destined to spend her life, -and perhaps more, stood at her side and held her -hand. So I came out here, so that you would ask -me to be your wife. Are you angry?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He shook his head, frowning straight before him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It may sound heartless," she went on; "I did -not mean it to be. I thought it would be better if -everything was spoken out clearly between us. I -knew you loved me, and I cared for you—I cared for -you enough to be glad if I found I loved you. For -my own sake I should have been glad. I know my -life would be safe in your hands—that you are all an -English gentleman need be, but——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now comes the 'but,' he said, with bitterness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is no good," she said. "I can't pretend, can -I? When you took my hand, when you spoke, I -felt nothing—absolutely nothing, or, perhaps, only -a little more critical than usual. I noticed, for -instance, that you stoop. It had never struck me -before. I tell you that because it shows you just -how I feel."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She put her hand on his shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't be angry," she pleaded. "I </span><em class="italics">do</em><span> care for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then, if you care for me, couldn't you give me a -chance—won't you trust yourself to me, Nora? -Love will come little by little."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had taken her hand again, and she felt that he -trembled with restrained feeling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have an idea that love never comes little by -little," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were a long time silent. Arnold had buried -his face on his arms on the cross-bars. Presently he -looked up, and met her sorrowful gaze with pale -composure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So it is to be Karlsburg?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I think so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora, I shan't give up hope."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It wouldn't be fair of me to say 'don't.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Still, when you come back?" ...</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't promise anything," she said, but her eyes -were full of pity and kindness. "I am so sorry, -Robert."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right, dear. You can't help it." He -pressed her hand a last time. "I won't come on now. -You understand—I would rather be alone. Good-bye."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-bye."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She watched him till he was out of sight. A tear -rolled down her cheek. She rubbed it quickly and -impatiently away. Then she sprang down and went -home. She felt shaken and vaguely regretful, and -was filled with the one desire to be with her -mother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Ingestre was in the garden when Nora reached -the vicarage. She was looking paler than usual, but -she greeted her daughter with the customary grave, -affectionate smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are out early to-day," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora came and slipped her arm through her mother's.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have something serious to tell you," she said. -"Robert has asked me to be his wife."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She spoke quickly, breathlessly, as though -disburdening her heart of an uncomfortable load. -Mrs. Ingestre said nothing, but waited quietly for what -was to come. She held a bunch of roses, and if Nora -had been less self-absorbed, she would have seen that -the white hand trembled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wanted him to propose to me," Nora went on -with her confession. "I wanted to find out if I -cared—I wanted to care, but—I don't—not enough. -So I said 'No.' I am glad it is over."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Ingestre pressed the arm resting on her own.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I am glad that you have said 'no,'" she -said. "I should always have been afraid if it had -been 'yes' that Karlsburg and vegetation had given -the casting vote. It is dangerous to treat marriage -as an escape loop-hole. Sometimes it means the -tragedy of a lifetime."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They talked of other things, as people do who have -touched on a subject too near the heart's innermost -and untrodden places, but Mrs. Ingestre had -unconsciously lifted a corner of the veil. The words "a -tragedy of a lifetime" remained ineffaceable, and, -though they had been untouched with self-pity or -bitterness, Nora believed she understood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From that moment she saw in her mother's face, -words, and acts a new meaning—the revelation of a -harsh punishment nobly and patiently accepted.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="outward-bound"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">OUTWARD BOUND</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>After the final decision, events moved swiftly in -Nora Ingestre's life. It was almost as though -Mrs. Ingestre was afraid delay might develop imperceptibly -into a gradual surrender to the protests of her husband -and the scoffing criticisms of her son. The former -treated Nora's journey as a sort of soul-contaminating -emigration into the land of the Moabites—a matter -full of spiritual danger for her, and, incidentally, -of annoyance for him. During the six weeks that -passed in correspondence between Delford and -Karlsburg and in busy preparations, he varied the table -conversation with anxious appeals to a watchful, if -occasionally inexplicable Providence on behalf of his -dearest child and a fretful review of his own crippled -condition without her assistance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"God forbid that I should criticise my fellow-creatures," -was his usual introductory sentence, "but -foreigners are not as we. They have ways and customs -which I cannot believe are well-pleasing in His sight. -Do not, my child, be led astray by the creeping -influence of example; do not surrender the proud and -glorious tenets of your country because you see many, -less fortunate, following other paths than those you -have been taught to tread. They may seem fair, but -remember the end is not here. Be careful that a -light and frivolous conception of a terrible God does -not taint your blood. I shall think of you always, -dear child, but most of all on Sundays, in our beloved -church, when I shall pray that you too are joining in -the universal praise in some suitable place of worship."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After which he was wont to remark that his sermon -was not yet copied out, and on Nora having offered -to perform the task, only too thankful that her soul's -condition should cease to be made the subject for an -after-dinner's conversation, he would draw her to -him and kiss her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What shall I do without my right hand?" he -usually added, with a grave and melancholy shake of -the head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was then Miles's turn to take up the ball and -keep it rolling after his own methods and ideas. -References to fat Germans and to people who chose to -associate with that sort of foreign bounder rather -than stay at home with decent English people were -plentiful, and became tiresome even in their -variations. But alike to her brother's pungent sarcasm -and her father's periods Nora bore the same -determined front. She was on her mother's side, blindly -and devotedly, and in spite of the fact that at the -bottom of her heart she shared the prejudices of the -masculine element in her family. She had the firm -conviction that her mother was right, and felt, -moreover, that anything—even Karlsburg—was better -than the dreary Puritan monotony of her present life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As for Mrs. Ingestre, she said little, but went on -quietly with the necessary arrangements and ignored -the constant, if indirect, attacks of her husband and -son. Neither ventured to criticise her plans to her -face. Miles lived in a wholesome shamefaced awe of -his mother's dignity and keener insight into his own -weaknesses; the Rev. John had his private reasons -for caution. He had, in fact, waged one battle royal -with his wife, and had been momentarily forced to -realise that for twenty-five years he had been living -with a master who had acted willingly as his slave. -Not that the awakening was more than momentary. -When he first recovered from the shock of finding -himself confronted by an iron wall of opposition, he -had dozed back into the old delusion that he was sent -with a divine mission to be the guide and support to -a frail and helpless woman. But there were a few -words uttered in the course of a short and painful -interview which the Rev. John could not forget. -They rankled in his mind as the proof of the injustice, -ingratitude, and perversity of the best of women.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We look at things from a different standpoint," -Mrs. Ingestre had said wearily. "You regard the -world and all that it has to offer in beauty and -happiness as something to be hated and avoided. You do -hate the world. You boast of the fact. I am different. -I believe that I was put into the world to enjoy it to -the uttermost power of my capability, that every -day in which I had not seen or done something new -or experienced some fresh wonder was a day wasted. -I believed all this in spite of my home and upbringing. -I simply waited for the time when I should be allowed -to live as I understood living. I married you—and -then too late I saw that your ideas and mine clashed. -It was a mistake, John, but in all justice you must -admit it was a mistake which you have never had to -feel. I have done my best to smother my wishes -and instincts because I realised that it was not your -fault that I had seen more in you than was really -there. I have stood by you loyally—I felt it was my -duty to do so even at the cost of my own individuality. -</span><em class="italics">I</em><span> had made a mistake. But it was a mistake none -the less, John, and it is one for which Nora shall not -suffer. My responsibility to her is greater than it is -to you. She is my daughter. She shall live as her -character requires—as my character required. She -shall not be stunted and dwarfed in her growth. This -is the first time I have ever opposed you. I do so -because I must."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And, strangely enough, the Rev. John had found -nothing to say. He prayed very earnestly for his -wife against the hydra-headed monster of worldliness -and vanity which he firmly believed had taken hold -upon her soul, but from that moment his protest -confined itself to an increased gravity in her presence -and the indirect reproach of his after-dinner orations.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus time slipped past, and almost before she -knew it the day of departure dawned for Nora. In -the fresh autumnal air and bright sunshine she forgot -the pangs of the previous night, when she had wept a -few tears of regret and vague remorse. In the darkness -she had reproached herself to the point of believing -that to desert her father and the copying of his sermons -was a piece of unfilial selfishness. Even Robert -Arnold appeared to her in a new light—that light -which our "good-night" thoughts, first cousins to -"last" thoughts, cast about those dear to us. He -seemed very dear to her at midnight. A dozen -episodes, grave and gay, in their common life recurred -to her, also illuminated by the same tender regret. -A year's parting from him caused her almost intolerable -heartache, the more so because she had repulsed him -and the love after which she began to hunger. "If -he will only wait, I am sure I shall grow to love him," -she confided to her damp pillow, more than half -convinced that the love had come already, startled to -life by the fear of loss and separation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the morning sunshine is a spritely, cold-hearted -magician. As the shaky old four-wheeled cab, glorified -in the village by the name of "the brougham," rolled -over the uneven cobbles, she found herself nodding a -cheerful, almost triumphant, farewell to the church -and the monument. They were in her eyes the -symbols of a life she was leaving behind her, like the -gates of a not intolerable prison. She was quite sorry -that Mrs. Clerk failed to be on her usual watchful -guard at the window. Certainly, if the village was -a sort of prison, Mrs. Clerk was its spiritual gaoler, -and Nora would have dearly loved to flourish her -dawning freedom in the disapproving face of her -natural enemy. But Mrs. Clerk was nowhere to be -seen, and Nora's flashing glance encountered only -her mother's grave, thoughtful eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Against all advice, Mrs. Ingestre had determined -to accompany her daughter up to London. Perhaps -she feared her husband's last exhortations, perhaps -she was urged by a secret heart-hunger. Yet her -whole face brightened with warm sympathy as she -read in Nora's smile and heightened colour the proud, -bold joy of youth plunging for the first time into the -full tide of life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are glad to go?" she asked in a low voice -that was without the faintest tone of reproach.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am excited," she said. "I feel like a pioneer -setting out on the discovery of new worlds. And so -I am. What does it matter that millions of people -have been where I am going? </span><em class="italics">I</em><span> have never been -before. It is all new to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her father sighed in pained disapproval.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us hope that your adventures in foreign lands -will not cost you too dear, Nora," he said. "May -they bring you back to your home contented and -grateful for its blessed peace."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Ingestre leant forward and laid her hand on -Nora's. The movement might have been made in -confirmation of her husband's words—it might also -have had another meaning. It might have meant, -taken in conjunction with the almost youthful flash -in the dark eyes: "Be of good cheer! The world -and life are before you. Grasp both in spite of every -one. They are worth fighting for!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Nora's clasp responded. Her spirits were at -their highest pitch. She was afraid of nothing; the -long journey, the foreign country, and its despised -inhabitants had no terrors for her. Youth and -morning sunshine swept her forward on a wave of -impetuous joy. She even found it in her heart to be -thankful for the "blows of Providence," though for -other reasons than those of her piously resigned -parent. "After all, now I shall be able to fight my -own battles," was her proud thought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The day in London cast the first shadow over her -courage. They arrived in the metropolis at midday, -and as the boat-train left at eight o'clock in the evening -there was a whole afternoon to be spent wandering -about the busy streets—a pleasant occupation if you -understand how to go about it. But this was one -thing that the Rev. John did not understand. He -belonged to the class of people for whom London is -a great black, smutty monster, replete with all the -vices and crimes of Babylon, and his passage through -its heart was a veritable penance. His sincerely -Puritan temperament—for, to do him justice, he was -but half a hypocrite and only that much unconsciously, -like the rest of us—found "sermons in stones," and -in everything else from the wicked luxury of the lady -lounging in her victoria to the ragged profligacy of -the beggar. Sermons he delivered, therefore, and -Nora, trudging wearily at his side, with all her eyes -on the ignored shop windows, listened in sullen -defiance. She loved London with the almost passionate -love which is given to no other city in the world. -She loved the fogs, its dirt, its stern, relentless bustle; -she felt a sort of vague kinship with its vagabonds, -its grandees, its very policemen, and her father's -criticisms goaded her to distraction. Yet once, as -they dragged themselves into an A.B.C. for tea, she -saw her mother's face, and her anger died down, -yielding to the first cold touch of home-sickness. -There was something written on the pale, worn face -which she could not read but which filled her with -vague pain. Visited by what unshed years of -regret, longing, and unavailing remorse had those -quiet eyes watched the tide of life flow past them? -Nora did not know. In an instinctive, almost -childish, sympathy she slipped her hand into -Mrs. Ingestre's.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear, dear mother!" she said, "I wish I -could make you happy—really happy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Rev. John had gone to order the buns and tea -which were to form the </span><em class="italics">pièces de résistance</em><span> of their -evening meal. Mrs. Ingestre looked down into the -young, earnest face. Her own face relaxed an instant -from its own usual serenity. It was as though a -sudden gust of wind had passed over a lake, ruffling -its smooth, peaceful surface.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Be happy," she said almost imperatively. -"Whatever else happens, remember that you have -the right to happiness. And to be happy you must -open your heart wide—you must welcome all that is -good, even if it is not the good you have been taught -to know. Don't let Delford or—or even us make your -standard. Keep the past and those that love you, -but don't let them hem you—don't let them stand -between you and the future. Show your new world -a big, generous, open heart, and it will open a heart -as big and generous to you. Be arrogant and petty, -and everything about you will reflect yourself. Oh, -Nora, I am not preaching; a narrow heart is a curse -to others and to itself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a peculiar emphasis in her words, a note -in her voice so like despair that it rang long afterwards -in Nora's memory. It cast a deeper shadow over -her sinking spirits, and as she walked by her mother's -side towards the station which was to mark their -first long parting, the hot, burning tears welled up in -her eyes and only by a strong effort were kept back -from overflow. Since that morning, with its brilliant -sunshine, its youth and hope, all had changed within -her and without. The sunshine had yielded to cold, -dark shadows, youth and hope lagged wearily, -overcome by the growing tide of home-love. "Dear old -England!" Nora whispered to herself. "Dear old -England!" And the very shop windows, casting -bright golden patches on the thickening fog, seemed -to have a special light of their own. The faces of the -passers-by were dear to her because they were English -faces and because she was going to a strange country, -where she would see them no more. Even the -red-brick church and "the monument" became hallowed -in her memory. In that moment of youthful grief -she would have given worlds to know that she was -going home, that there were to be no partings, that -she was to live her life in the dull peace to which she -had waved a joyous farewell that very morning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They entered the great station. The bustle and -confusion brought her no relief—rather, it increased -the sense of helplessness which was growing stronger -and stronger. For a moment she lost sight of her -father and mother, and it was then she felt for the -first time all the poignancy of the loneliness which -was, in less than a quarter of an hour, to become an -irreparable reality. She turned, dazedly seeking a -familiar face, and in the same instant a firm, warm -hand clasped hers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora—little girl!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was Arnold who stood beside her. She recognised -his strong, gaunt face with a sudden, joyous start -which brought the colour to her cheeks. Had she -unconsciously been longing for him? Had the heartache -been a little because she had not seen him, because -ever since that decisive morning he had kept away -from her, taking her dismissal as final? Was it final? -These were things he at least might have asked as he -felt the quick response of her touch and saw the -light flash back into her tear-filled eyes. But Nora -thought of nothing—asked no questions. She clung -to his arm like a tired, lost child.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I am so glad," she said, almost incoherent -with relief, "so glad!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I couldn't keep away," he said, himself shaken by -her sudden self-abandonment. "I did my best, but -in the end I had to come. I could not let you go so -far from me without a God-speed. And something -seemed to tell me that you would be glad to see me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am!" she cried. "Of course I am!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They reached Mrs. Ingestre and her husband, who -were busy with the luggage registration. A shadow -seemed to pass over the latter's face as she saw the -two together, but she greeted Arnold with her usual -serene courtesy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miles has come too," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles was, indeed, very much </span><em class="italics">en évidence</em><span>. He had -made himself what he called "smart" for the occasion, -and an extraordinary high collar and a flagrantly red -tie certainly put him beyond all danger of being -overlooked. His face was a trifle flushed—perhaps -with the hurry of his arrival—and his manner jocose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You look as though you might flood the station -any minute," he told Nora. "I bet anything you'd -give your bottom dollar to be out of it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't, Miles!" she answered gently. "Of course -I am sorry to leave you all. It is only natural."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her eyes met Arnold's, and perhaps they said more -than she knew. He came back to her side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us go and find a comfortable corner for you," -he suggested.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She followed him passively, and they walked along -the platform to the end of the train, where the crowd -of passengers was less dense.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear little Nora!" he said, looking down at her -with infinite pity and tenderness. The tears rushed -again to her eyes. She fought them down -courageously, but her voice shook as she answered:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is so hard to go," she said, "much harder -than I thought this morning. I have only just realised -how dear everything—everybody is to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora, that is what I hoped. You are so young—you -do not know your own heart. Now perhaps -you can tell better—if there is any chance for me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She saw the pleading in his face, and she made no -answer. Her throat hurt her and she was no longer -so sure. She did care for him, and if she had felt no -thrill of passion at his touch, his presence seemed to -envelop her in a warm, comforting glow of protecting -tenderness infinitely precious.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora," he went on, "even now it is not too late. -My dearest, what are you waiting for? What are -you expecting to find? I believe I could make you -happy—my love is so great."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She threw up her head with the determined gesture -he knew so well.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I must go," she said. "It would be weak and -cowardly to turn back at the last minute. Only——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will come back soon?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She nodded, her lips trembling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I feel I must," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you will write to me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Rev. John bustled up to them. He was flustered -and nervous, as people are to whom a journey -of any sort is an event full of dangerous possibilities.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must get in at once," he said fussily. "The -train is just off. There, God bless you, my dear child! -Remember all I have said. And if you are not happy, -or the people not nice, let us know at once."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Ingestre clasped her daughter in a short, almost -passionate embrace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Be happy!" she said again; and the words were -a blessing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The carriage door slammed to; somewhere from -the rear they heard the guard's shrill whistle, and -gradually the train began to glide forward, leaving -behind the little group of dearly loved faces.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnold walked at the carriage side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will write to me often?" he pleaded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yes, I will write."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell me everything—everything you think and -feel. Oh, Nora, it is so hard to let you go! But I -have taken fresh hope. I believe you will come -back soon—I believe it will all come right for us both."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The train was gathering speed. He had to run to -keep pace with her carriage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora, after all—you do care a little, don't you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She nodded. She was so tired, so heart-sick, that -had it been possible she would have sprung out and -put her hand in his in weary, thankful surrender. -But it was too late. She could only look at him, -and again her eyes told more than she perhaps would -have said. He stood still, hat in hand, and waved -to her, and the last she saw of him was a face full of -hope and gratitude.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When you send for me, I shall come," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The train glided into the suffocating darkness of a -tunnel, and when they once more emerged the station -was far behind, and they were travelling faster and -faster into the night. The lights of London, of home, -of England swept past in blurred lines of fire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora Ingestre watched them, fighting bravely; but -when they had disappeared she covered her eyes -with her hand and wept the silent, bitter tears of a -first exile.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="among-the-heathen"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER V</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">AMONG THE HEATHEN</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Karlsburg! </span><em class="italics">Alles aussteigen</em><span>—Karlsburg!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora sprang up, roughly aroused from a half-doze -by the stentorian tones and a general move in her -compartment. The fat German who had occupied -the corner seat opposite her, and who had spent the -journey in doing his best to justify her scorn and -contempt for all foreigners, was heaving great masses -of untidy luggage out of the window and shouting -furiously for a </span><em class="italics">Gepäckträger</em><span>. In this performance he -trod more than once on Nora's toes, thus arousing -her so effectually that she made haste to convey herself -and her belongings out into the narrow corridor -congested with passengers and baggage. After a -brief energetic scramble down the appalling staircase -which separates the continental traveller from the -platform, she landed safely and drew a sigh of relief. -"Here I am at last!" she thought, comforted by -the knowledge that the worst was over. The "worst" -in connection with separations is the first twenty-four -hours, the first night-fall, and the first awaking to -changed surroundings and circumstances. After that, -the human capacity for adjustment mercifully begins -to display itself, and the first poignancy of grief is -over—at any rate for those who have courage and -youth to help them. And Nora had both. As she -stood that morning on the deck of the Flushing boat, -watching the pale, low outline of land, she had already -felt the first glow of returning vigour. The keen -sea-air had blown colour into her cheeks; the tears which -had threatened to assert themselves so often the night -before had dried at their source, and she had flung -herself into the confusion of exchange from the boat -to the waiting train with a pleased realisation of her -own independence. Then had come the long and -glorious panorama along the Rhine, the frowning -castles, the majestic spires of the great Dom, the new -types of men and women hurrying backwards and -forwards about the busy platforms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During the long hours Nora's watchful, eager eyes -never closed. This, then, was the new world to which -she was to open her heart; these, then, the people -whose qualities of goodness she was to learn to -honour. The first task was easy enough—it was, -indeed, a beautiful world. But the people? They -were of another type than that to which she was -accustomed, and Nora, imbued with the pleasant -insular conviction that all English people are tall -and handsome, found them so far little to her taste. -In truth, a firmly rooted prejudice is not to be -overcome in a moment, or even by the wisest precept, -and not all Mrs. Ingestre's eloquence could crush -back the half-conscious superiority which her daughter -experienced in that stuffy second-class coupé. Her -fellow-passengers, be it confessed, were stout and -inelegant, and they obviously preferred the window -closed—points which were alone quite sufficient to -stamp them as belonging to an inferior class. But the -chief point was Nora's own nationality. The mere fact -that she was English would have kept her in -countenance even when confronted with the whole Imperial -family, and, indeed, throughout the journey, with its -difficulties, its various encounters with idiotic foreign -porters who refuse to understand the English language, -no matter how loud it is shouted, she was sustained -by a calm and inborn knowledge of her racial superiority. -Thus she felt no sense of loneliness or helplessness -until the voice shouting "Karlsburg" had hurried -her out on to the crowded, bustling platform. There -for the first time she felt her own insignificance, her -own strangeness. She was really in a foreign country -at last, and with all her superiority she stood there -a forlorn handful of pretty, despairing girlhood, -waiting for the first jabbering, gesticulating savage -to rescue her from her perplexity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Ach, liebes Kind, da bist du! Willkommen!</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The eager, kindly voice and the cordial embrace -were equally sudden and somewhat overwhelming. -Steadying her hat from the effects of the shock, Nora -turned to find herself held by a short, stout little -woman, very out of breath, very excited, who was -smiling and nodding at her as though at an old and -very dear acquaintance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ach! you do not know me?" she interrogated, -adding in the same gasp, "But how should you? I -am ze old Fräulein Müller—you haf heard of her? -Long ago she did teach ze muzzer, and now here is ze -daughter—her muzzer every bit of her. </span><em class="italics">Ach, du -lieber Gott im Himmel</em><span>! But I must not so much talk. -Give ze man your </span><em class="italics">Gepäckschein, liebes Kind</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Half overcome by the torrent of words, Nora -produced the document which she supposed answered to -the name of Gepäckschein. In the interval, whilst -Fräulein Müller was apparently pouring volumes of -mingled explanation and abuse over the head of an -equally flustered porter, Nora had opportunity to -study her rescuer. Fräulein Müller, she imagined, -was well over the fifties and, on account of her -stoutness, looked her age, but her face was as lively as it -was plain, and the rotund figure in its dowdy brown -dress cut after the manner of a long-forgotten fashion -seemed to be bubbling over with seething sprightliness. -Nora had a quick eye, and her critical faculties, at -home usually dormant, were on the alert. "How -badly the Germans dress!" she thought. "What -dreadful boots—and that dress! I suppose it is her -best, and it was probably quite expensive. Whatever -could have made any one choose a colour like that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her observations were cut short by her unconscious -victim grasping her by the arm and hurrying her up -and down dark flights of steps, the whole way -continuing her explanations, peppered with gasps and -exclamatory German outbreaks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ze portermans are ze stupidest race on ze earth," -she panted, "but I haf told him—I haf his number—it -is zirty-one—please try and remember, </span><em class="italics">liebes Kind</em><span>—zat -he must your </span><em class="italics">Koffers</em><span> bring at once. Ze Frau -Baronin's carriage is not big enoff to take more zan -us two and your rugs. </span><em class="italics">Ach, je</em><span>! Ze many steps are -not for one so short in ze breaths as I!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were out of the station at last—Nora had -delivered up her ticket with the feeling that the last -link between her and home was gone—and were -greeted by a simply dressed footman, who conducted -them to a brougham promptly summed up by Nora -as shabby.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fräulein Müller dropped back into the cushions -with a sigh of satisfaction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now all is well," she said. "I shall drive wiz -you to the Frau Baronin's house and see you safe in. -She ask me to fetch you, as I knew I could easy find -you. </span><em class="italics">Ach, sie ist die Liebenswürdigkeit selber, die, -Frau Baronin!</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are her great friend?" Nora suggested, -seeking something to say.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fräulein Müller threw up her plump hands in the -straining brown kid gloves and laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nee, nee, </span><em class="italics">liebes Kind</em><span>, how should zat be? I am -Fräulein Müller—old Fräulein Müller—and she is the -Baronin von Arnim."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Perhaps Nora's look showed that the all-apparent -distinction was not clear, for her companion went on -with a soft chuckle:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Zat is somezing you vill understand wiz ze time, -my dear. Ze Baronin is von great person and I am -von nobody. Zat is all. I am proud zat I haf brought -a so nice English girl—and glad to haf been able to -give ze daughter of my dear pupil so nice a place. I -am sure you will be very happy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora's arched brows contracted for a minute. -Something in Fräulein Müller's tone or words ruffled -her—she was not quite sure why. The little woman -was so obviously and naïvely impressed with the -glories of Nora's new position and with the greatness -and splendour of the "Baronin," of whom she spoke -with almost bated breath, that Nora's self-importance -was somewhat wounded. Besides which, she regarded -both matters as decidedly "unproven." The "Baronin," -she felt sure, was a snobbish person, probably -very stout and ponderous, and as for her splendour -and greatness, it remained yet to be seen. Armorial -bearings with a seven-pearled crown—after all, Nora -knew very well that everybody was a count or a baron -in Germany—and a bone-shaking brougham with a -shabby footman proved nothing at all. Thus Nora -expressed neither gratitude nor gratification, and her -manner was perhaps more chilly than she intended, -for her companion subsided into an abrupt silence, -which lasted until the carriage drew up and the door -was opened by the despised attendant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now you are here!" she cried, springing out -with surprising agility. "I vill come no further—my -leetle </span><em class="italics">étage</em><span> is just round the corner. In a day or -two I vill venture to pay respects on the Baronin and -see how all goes wiz you. Until then—</span><em class="italics">lebewohl</em><span>!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Much to Nora's relief, she was not embraced a -second time. A warm squeeze of the hand, which -seemed, somehow, to express a slight "hurtness," -and the stumpy little figure disappeared into -the darkness, leaving Nora to face her destiny -alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was now dusk, and she had only time to take in -the dim outline of a small, square house before the -footman led her up the steps to the already opened -door. A flood of light greeted her as she entered the -hall, and seemed to intensify its unfurnished coldness. -Little as she had expected, the barren white walls -and carpetless stone floor cast a chill over her -courage which not even the beaming smile of a -pleasant-faced but far from stylish parlourmaid could -wholly dispel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Die gnädige Frau wartet im Salon</em><span>," she said, and -proceeded to conduct the way farther down the -passage, switching off the electric light carefully as -she went.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In spite of everything, Nora's heart beat faster -with anticipation and an inevitable nervousness. -The great moment had arrived which was to decide -the future. "As long as she is fat and comfortable -like Fräulein Müller, I daresay it won't be so bad," -she told herself, but prepared for the worst. A -minute later and she was ushered into a room so -utterly at variance with what had gone before and -her own expectations that she stood still on the -threshold with a little inward gasp of surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The softly shaded light revealed to her quick young -eyes an elegance, if not luxury, whose details she -had no time to gather. She received only an -impression of warm, delicate colours, soft stuffs, rich, -sound-deadening carpets and the touch of an indefinable -personality, whose charm seemed to linger on -every drapery. From the ugly stone wall to this -had been no more than a step, but that step divided -one world from another, and Nora stood hesitating -seeking in the shadows the personality whose influence -she felt already like a living force. She had no more -than an instant to wait. Then a tall, slight figure -rose out of one of the chairs drawn out of the circle -of light and came to meet her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are very welcome, Miss Ingestre," a voice -said, and her hand was taken and she was led farther -into the room. "I would have met you myself, but -I had no method of recognising you, and the </span><em class="italics">gute</em><span> -Fräulein Müller seemed so sure that she would be able -to find her old pupil's daughter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The voice was low, the English almost perfect, -though a little slow, as though from want of practice, -the touch of the hand firm and cool. Somehow, in -that moment poor Nora felt painfully aware that she -was dirty and untidy from the journey and, above -all, that she was terribly young and awkward. Yet -her natural frankness stood her in good stead. She -looked up, smiling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fräulein Müller picked me out at once," she said. -"I must be very like my mother, otherwise I cannot -think how she found me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In any case, the great thing is that you are found," -Frau von Arnim said. "Come and sit down here. -You see, we have a real English tea waiting for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora obeyed willingly, and whilst the white, delicate -hands were busy with the cups standing on the low -tray, she had opportunity to study the woman upon -whom the weal or woe of perhaps a whole long year -depended. "She is not as beautiful as my mother," -Nora thought, but the criticism was no disparagement. -If Frau von Arnim was not actually beautiful, she -at least bore on every feature marked refinement, -and the expression of the whole face, pale and slightly -haughty though it was, had a certain indefinable -fascination which held Nora's attention riveted. She -was dressed elegantly, moreover, in some dark colour -which suited the brown hair and the slow hazel eyes -which, Nora felt positive, had in one quiet glance -taken in every detail of her appearance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We are so very glad that you have come," Frau -von Arnim went on. "My daughter and I love -everything that is English, but, alas, nice English -people are </span><em class="italics">raræ aves</em><span> in Karlsburg. We have only the -scum of all nations, and I cannot tell you how pleased -we were when your mother decided to entrust you to -our care."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The tone of the words was delicate and kind, suggesting -a conferred favour on Nora's side which somehow -had the reverse effect. In her youthful and insular -arrogance Nora had felt that the "German family" -which boasted of her services was to be congratulated, -and that the real and only question of importance -was whether she liked </span><em class="italics">them</em><span>. Now she found herself -wondering what this serene and graceful woman was -thinking of </span><em class="italics">her</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm afraid I'm not a bit a glory to my nation," -she said, with sincere schoolgirlish humility. "I wish -I was."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Arnim laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We like you very much already," she said. "Besides, -you could not help being nice with such a -charming mother."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora started with pleased surprise, and whatever -had been unconsciously antagonistic in her melted -into an impulsive gratitude which spoke out of the -heightened colour and bright, frank eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know my mother, then?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, only by her letters. But letters betray far -more than the writers think. I often feel when I -meet some reserved, unfathomable person who interests -me, that if he would only write me the shortest -note I should know more of him than after hours of -conversation. And Mrs. Ingestre and I have exchanged -many long letters. We feel almost as though -she were an old friend; don't we, Hildegarde?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This sudden appeal to a third person revealed to -Nora the fact that they were not alone. Frau von -Arnim rose, smiling at her bewilderment, and took -her by the hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must think us very rude, strange people," -she said, "but my daughter has been listening and -watching all this time. You see, it is for her sake -that we wanted you to come and live with us, and -she had a whim that she would like to see you without -being seen. Invalids may have whims and be -pardoned, may they not?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whilst she had been speaking she had led Nora to -the far end of the room. There, lying on a sofa -drawn well into the shadow, Nora now perceived a -girl of about her own age, whose thin, white face was -turned to greet her with a mingling of apology and -that pathetic humility which goes with physical -weakness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do not be angry," she said, holding out a feeble -hand. "I am so afraid of strangers. I felt I should -like to see you first—before you saw me. I do not -know why—it was just a whim, and, as mother says, -when one is ill one may perhaps be forgiven."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course," Nora said gently. To herself she was -thinking how beautiful suffering can be. The face -lifted to hers—the alabaster complexion, the great -dark eyes and fine aristocratic features framed in a -bright halo of disordered hair—seemed to her almost -unearthly in its spiritualised loveliness. And then -there was the expression, so void of all vanity, so -eloquent with the appeal: "You are so strong, so -beautiful in your youth and strength. Be pitiful to me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Governed by some secret impulse, Nora looked up -and found that Frau von Arnim was watching her -intently. A veil had been lifted from the proud -patrician eyes, revealing depths of pain and grief -which spoke to Nora much as the younger eyes had -spoken, save with the greater poignancy of experience: -"You are strong, and life offers you what it will always -withhold from my child. Be pitiful!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then prejudice, reserve, her own griefs, were -swept out of Nora's hot young heart on a wave of -sympathy. She still held the thin hand clasped in -her own. She clasped it tighter, and her answer to -the unspoken appeal came swift and unpremeditated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope you will like me," she said. "I am so -glad I have come."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hildegarde Arnim's pale face flushed with pleasure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I </span><em class="italics">do</em><span> like you," she said. "I do hope you will be -happy with us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then, to their mutual surprise, the two girls -kissed each other.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-letter-home"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A LETTER HOME</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"I never realised before now how true it is that all -men are brothers," Nora Ingestre wrote home to her -mother at the end of her first week in Karlsburg. -"I used to believe that we English were really the -only people who counted, the really only nice people, -and the rest were sort of outsiders on quite another -level. And now all my ideas are turned topsy-turvy. -I keep on saying to myself, 'Why, she is just like an -Englishwoman,' or 'How English he looks!' and then -I have to admit that the simple reason why I think -they look English is because they look nice, and it -seems there are nice people all the world over. Of -course there are differences—one notices them -especially among the poorer classes—and so far, I can only -judge the men from a distance; but if I met the -</span><em class="italics">Gnädige Frau</em><span>, as she is called, in any drawing-room, -I should think, 'Well, with one exception, she is the -most charming woman I have ever met,' and never -have so much as guessed that she could belong to any -country but my own. Hildegarde is a dear, too. -Although she has known me such a short time, she treats -me almost as though I were her sister—in fact, I am -a sort of </span><em class="italics">enfant gâté</em><span> in the house, everybody, from -Freda, the sturdy little housemaid, upwards, doing -their best to show their goodwill to the '</span><em class="italics">kleine englische -Dame</em><span>.' (You see, I am picking up German fast!) -Both the </span><em class="italics">Gnädige Frau</em><span> and Hildegarde know English -well and seem to enjoy talking, though one half of the -day is dedicated to my first German efforts, which, I -am sure, have the most comical results. But no one -ever laughs at you. Even Johann, the coachman, -keeps quite a straight face when I call him '</span><em class="italics">du</em><span>'—a -disgraceful piece of endearment which seems to haunt -me every time I open my mouth. That reminds me -to tell you that yesterday we went for a lovely drive -in the Wild Park, the private property of the Grand -Duke. Driving is the only outdoor enjoyment which -is left for poor Hildegarde, and it is terribly hard on -her, because she loves riding and driving and tennis, -and all that sort of thing. It seems she had a bad -accident whilst out riding two years ago with her -cousin, who is a captain in the Artillery here, and -since then she has always been ill. She never -complains, and is always so sweet and patient that it -makes one despise oneself for not being an angel -outright, but I know that she has her struggles. -Yesterday, for instance, Johann was giving the horse a -breathing space in a lovely </span><em class="italics">allée</em><span>—oh, you would have -enjoyed it, darling! It was just like a glorious bit -of England, with great oak trees on either side and -lots of deer and—there, now! I have lost myself! -Where was I?—Oh, yes, in the </span><em class="italics">allée</em><span>, when an officer -galloped past and saluted. I hardly saw his face, -but he certainly looked very smart in his dark-blue -uniform, and he sat his horse as though he were part -of it. He turned out to be Herr von Arnim, the -cousin in question, and I would not have thought -any more about him had it not been for a glimpse I -caught of Hildegarde's face. She is always pale, but -just at that moment she looked almost ghastly, and -her lips were tight-pressed together, as though she -were in pain. Somehow, I knew it was not physical, -so I did not dare say anything, but I have wondered -since whether it was the memory of all the splendid -gallops she used to have and will never have again, -or whether—but there! I must not let my fancy run -away with me. Anyhow, I am quite anxious to see -the 'Herr Baron' again. Perhaps I shall to-morrow -at the </span><em class="italics">Gnädige Frau's</em><span> 'At Home'—at least, I suppose -it is an 'At Home' or a German equivalent—a function -which fills me with the profoundest awe and alarm. -Imagine me, dearest, with my knowledge of the -German language, in a crowd of natives! What will -happen to me, I wonder? If I am lucky, the earth -will open and swallow me up before I say something -dreadful by mistake.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"</span><em class="italics">September</em><span> 15.—You see, I am writing my letter -in diary form, so that you get all the details—which -is what you want; is it not, dearest? And, indeed, -there are so many details that I do not know where -to begin. At any rate, the 'At Home' is over, which -is a comfort, for it was even more exciting than I had -expected. The crowd was awful—there were so many -people that one could hardly breathe, and I was so -frightened of some one speaking to me that I had to -keep on repeating to myself, 'Remember you are -English! Remember you are English!' in order to -prevent a disorderly and undignified flight. -Fortunately there was too much confusion for anybody -to notice my insignificant person, and at last I managed -to hide myself in an obscure alcove, where I could see -and not be seen. On the whole it was the most mixed -'At Home' I have ever seen, and I am sure it would -have shocked Mrs. Chester beyond words, You know -how much she thinks of clothes and all that sort of -thing. Well, here, apparently, no one thinks anything -of them at all. Some of the biggest 'aristocrats'—they -were nearly all 'aristocrats,' as I found out -afterwards—were dressed in fashions which must -have been in vogue when I was born, and nobody -seemed to think it in the least funny. Of course, -there were well-dressed people and a few young officers -in uniform, who brightened matters up with a little -colour, but I had no time to take in more than a -general impression, for just as I was settling down to -enjoy myself, some one spoke to me. Fortunately it -was in English, or I have no doubt I should have -fainted; as it was, I looked up and found a man in -a pale-blue uniform standing beside me with his heels -clapped together, evidently waiting for me to say -something. I supposed he had introduced himself, -for I had heard him say 'Bauer' in a rather grating -voice, but I felt very far from friendly. You know -how I am, mother. I take violent likes and dislikes, -and I cannot hide either the one or the other. And -almost in the same instant that I saw this man's face -I disliked him. I cannot tell you why. He was -good-looking enough and his manners were polished, -but there was something in his face, in the way he looked -at me, which made me angry—and afraid. It sounds -absurd to talk of being afraid at a harmless German -'At Home,' but if I believed in omens I should say -that the man is destined to bring me misfortune and -that the instant I saw him I knew it. Please don't -laugh—I am only trying to explain to you how intense -the feeling was, and to make my subsequent behaviour -seem less foolish. I fancy I was not friendly in my -answers or in my looks, but he sat down beside me -and went on talking. It does not matter what he -said. He spoke English well, and seemed to 'listen -to himself' with a good deal of satisfaction, all the -time never taking his eyes off my face. Somehow, -though everything he said was polite enough, I felt -that he looked upon me as a kind of 'dependent' -with whom he could amuse himself as he pleased; -and that made my blood boil. I prayed for some one -to come and fetch me away, and just then Frau von -Arnim passed close to where I was sitting. I heard -her ask after me and say something about music (I -had promised to play), and suddenly I felt ashamed. -I wondered what she would think of me if she found -me sitting in a secluded corner with a man whom I -had never seen before and to whom I had never been -properly introduced. After all, she does not know -me well enough to understand—well, that I am not -that sort, and the idea that she might think badly of -me with an appearance of reason was more than -could bear. There is a small door in the alcove -leading out into the hall, and just when my uninvited -companion was in the middle of a sentence I got up -and went out without a word of explanation. I am -afraid it was neither a very dignified nor sensible -proceeding, and it certainly landed me into worse -difficulties, since the next thing I knew after my -stormy exit was that I had collided violently with a -man standing in the hall. Of course, my fragment -of German forsook me, and I gasped, 'I beg your -pardon!' in English, to which my victim answered, -'I beg </span><em class="italics">your</em><span> pardon!' also in English, but with the -faintest possible accent. After that I recovered -enough from the shock to draw back and assume as -much dignity as I could under the circumstances. -My victim was a tall, broad-shouldered man—of -course in uniform-and though it was already twilight -in the hall I could see that he had a pleasant, -sun-burnt face and bright eyes, which at that moment -looked very much amused. I suppose my attempt -at dignity </span><em class="italics">was</em><span> rather a failure. 'I hope I did not -hurt you?' he asked, and when I had reassured him -on that point he suggested that he should introduce -himself, as there was no one there to do it for him. -Whereupon he clicked his spurs together and said, -'Von Arnim. Miss Ingestre, I think?' I asked -him how he knew my name, and he said, as a Prussian -officer it was his duty to know everything, and that -he had heard so much about Miss Ingestre that it -was impossible not to recognise her. And then we -stood looking at each other, I feeling horribly awkward, -he evidently still very much amused. Then he -proposed to take me back into the drawing-room, -but that was the last thing I wanted, and I said so in -my usual rude way, which seemed to amuse him still -more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'But why not?' he asked. (I give you the -conversation in full.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Because they wanted me to play.' (It was the -first excuse I could think of.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Is that kind? You are depriving my aunt's -guests of a great treat.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'How do you know?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Military instinct.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I could not help laughing at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Your military instinct is all wrong,' I said. 'At -any rate, I don't want to go back.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know why, but I fancy he suspected there -was something more in the matter than I had explained. -At any rate, he grew suddenly quite grave.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'You see, I have taken you prisoner of war,' he -said, 'and it is my duty to keep you in sight. At -the same time, I wish to make your captivity as -agreeable as possible. Suppose I persuade my aunt -not to worry you to play, and suppose I see that no -one else worries you—will you come back?'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I said 'Yes' in a lamb-like fashion altogether new -to me, and after he had hung up his sword he opened -the door and bowed me in. I saw my first partner -staring at us, but I felt curiously at my ease, not -any more strange and helpless. And Herr von Arnim -was so nice. After he had paid his respects all round -he came back and brought me some tea and talked -to me about the opera, to which we are going to-morrow -evening. I forgot to tell you about it, didn't -I? It is the Walküre, and I am bubbling over with -excitement, as Frau von Arnim has given me her seat -at the opera so that I can always go with Hildegarde. -She is good to me. Sometimes I think she must be -very rich, and then there are things which make me -doubtful—the old pill-box brougham, for instance. -But perhaps that is just German style—or lack of -it. I must stop now, or I shan't have stamps enough -to post this letter. Indeed, I do not know why I -have given you all these details. They are very -unimportant—but somehow they seemed important -when I was writing. Good-night, dearest!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">September</em><span> 16.—It is nearly twelve o'clock, and -the </span><em class="italics">Gnädige Frau</em><span> told me I should hurry straight -to bed and make up for the lost beauty-sleep, but I -simply can't! I feel I must sit down and tell you -all about it whilst I am still bubbling over with it all -and the </span><em class="italics">Feuerzauber</em><span> and the </span><em class="italics">Liebesmotif</em><span> and all the -other glories are making symphonies of my poor -brains. Oh, mother darling! how you would have -enjoyed it! That is always my first thought when -I hear or see something beautiful, and -to-night—to-night I feel as though I had been let into a new -world. Do you remember that glorious evening -when you took me to hear </span><em class="italics">Traviata</em><span> in Covent Garden? -Of course I loved it—but this was so absolutely -different. It was like drinking some noble wine after -sugared buns and milk. The music didn't try to -please you—it just swept you away with it on great -wings of sound till you stood above all Creation and -looked into the deepest secrets of life. Your own -heart opened and grew, everything mean and petty -was left far, far beneath. I felt suddenly that I -understood things I had never even thought of -before—myself and the whole world. Of course, that is -over now. I am just like a wingless angel stumbling -over the old earthly obstacles, but I shall never forget -the hours when I was allowed to fly above them all. -Oh dear, does this sound very silly? It is so hard to -explain. I feel as though this evening had wrought -some great change in me, as though I had grown wiser, -or at any rate older. Perhaps it is only a feeling -which will pass, and I shall awake to-morrow to find -myself the old Nora. Surely one evening cannot -bring a lasting change!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I must not forget to tell you that I met Herr -von Arnim again. He came up to speak to Hildegarde -after the first act, and I was glad to find that my first -impression of him was correct. If I had gone by my -old prejudices and by Lieutenant Bauer I should -have always believed that German officers were -frightful boors, but Herr von Arnim seems just like -an English gentleman, a little stiff and ceremonious -at first, perhaps, but not in the least conceited or -self-conscious. Of course he talks English excellently—he -told me he was working it up for some examination -or other, so perhaps he thought I was a good -subject to practise on. At any rate, he was very -attentive, and stayed with us until long after the -bell had rung, so that he had to hurry to get back to -his place in time. There were quite a number of -officers present, and some of the uniforms are very -smart, but I like the Artillery best—dark blue with -a black velvet collar. It looks elegant and business-like -at the same time. Certainly it suits Herr von -Arnim. He is not exactly a handsome man, but -well-built, with a strong, sunburnt face, a small fair -moustache and very straight-looking eyes with those -little lines at the corners which you always say indicate -a well-developed sense of humour. Altogether, good -looks and nice manners seem to run in the Arnim -family. He brought us some chocolates in the second -pause, and was very amusing. Hildegarde seems -fond of him and he of her in a cousinly sort of way. -He is so kind and attentive to her—almost as though -it were his fault that she is a cripple. I wonder—oh -dear! I have just heard the clock outside strike -one, and I am so sleepy I do not know how I shall -ever get into bed. I meant only to tell you about -the music, and instead I have been wandering on -about Wolff von Arnim! Good-night, my darling. -Though I am so happy I am always thinking of you -and wishing you were here to make me enjoy it all -double. Sometimes I am very 'mother-sick,' but I -fight against it because I know you want me to be -happy, and it seems ungrateful to lament. Love to -father and Miles and ever so much to you, dearest.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<dl class="docutils"> -<dt class="noindent"><span>"Your devoted daughter,</span></dt> -<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><span>"NORA.</span></p> -</dd> -</dl> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"P.S.—I have written a little note to Robert -telling him about my arrival. He asked me to, and -I couldn't refuse, could I? He seems so genuinely -fond of me, and I—oh dear! I only wish I knew!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"P.SS.—They are giving the second evening of the -</span><em class="italics">Ring</em><span> next Sunday. Herr von Arnim says that a great -many people think it even grander than the Walküre -and the </span><em class="italics">Götterdämmerung</em><span> (Sunday fortnight) grandest -of all. Hildegarde is going to both, if she is strong -enough, and he says I </span><em class="italics">must</em><span> come too. I told him -that I knew father would strongly disapprove, and -he said quite solemnly, and with a funny little German -accent, that he thought an 'English Sunday the -invention of the deevil,' which made me laugh. I -wonder if it would be wrong to go? I know what -father would say, but somehow, when I come to -think over it, I </span><em class="italics">can't</em><span> feel horrified at the idea. I -can't believe that it is wrong to listen to such grand, -beautiful music—even on Sunday; as Herr von Arnim -said, 'I am sure </span><em class="italics">der liebe Gott</em><span> would rather see you -good and happy enjoying the wonders He has made -than bored and bad-tempered, wishing that Sunday -was well over.' What do you think, mother? Let -me know soon. I will not do anything you do not -like.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"P.SSS.—I think we had better keep to our first -arrangement that my letters should be quite private. -You see, I tell you everything, and father might not -always understand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"P.SSSS.—What a lot of postscripts! I am sure -I must be very feminine, after all. I quite forgot to -tell you that Fräulein Müller called the other day. -She was very nervous and flustered, and treats the -'Frau Baronin' as though she were a sort of deity -to be propitiated at all costs. She also asked me to -tea. I went, but I won't go again if I can help it. -I was never so near suffocating in my life. All the -windows were double and had not been opened, I -should imagine, since August, so that the August -air was unpleasantly intermingled with the fumes of -a furiously energetic stove, against which I had the -honour of sitting for four mortal hours. But she -was so friendly and kind that it seems horrid to -complain, only—Heaven preserve me from being poor -and living in a German flat!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Mrs. Ingestre read the letter carefully. She then -tore it up and answered the same day:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As regards your question—do what your conscience -tells you, Nora. You are old enough to judge, and I -have perfect confidence in you. Be true and good, -and I too think that God will not blame you if you -rule your life according to the opinions He has given -you rather than the arbitrary laws which we have -made. Do what seems honestly right to you and -you cannot do wrong—at least, not in His sight."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This letter was shown to the Rev. John, her husband, -but of the scene that followed, where righteous -indignation and quiet resolve fought out a bitter struggle, -Nora heard nothing. She only knew that the letter -had been safely posted, and that once again her -mother had forced open the doors of liberty.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-duet"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A DUET</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Meine Herrn, to the Moltke of the future, the -pride of the regiment, </span><em class="italics">er lebe—hoch—hoch—hoch</em><span>!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The little group of officers gathered round the -mess-table responded to the toast with an enthusiasm -that was half bantering, half sincere. There followed -a general clinking of glasses, the pleasant popping of -champagne corks, and a chorus of more or less -intelligible congratulations, against which the recipient -stood his ground with laughing good-nature, his hands -spread out before his face as though to hide natural -blushes of embarrassment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Spare me, children!" he explained as the tumult -gradually subsided. "Do you not know that great -men are always modest? Your adulation throws me -into the deepest possible confusion, from which I can -only sufficiently extricate myself to promise you——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Another bottle!" a forward young ensign suggested.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not at all," with a wave of the hand, "nothing -so basely material—but my fatherly patronage when -I am head of the Staff, as of course I shall be within -a few years. Work hard, my sons, and who knows? -One of you may actually become my adjutant!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Amidst derisive laughter he drained his glass, and -then turned quickly, his attention having been arrested -by a slight touch upon the shoulder. Unobserved in -the general confusion, a tall, slightly built man, -wearing the uniform of an officer in the Red Dragoons, -had entered the mess-room and, leaning on his sword-hilt -in an attitude of weary impatience, had taken up -his place behind the last speaker. He now held out -his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Congratulate you, Arnim," he said. "I heard -the racket outside as I was passing, and came in for -enlightenment as to the cause. Seleneck has just -told me. Permit me to drink your health." He -had taken the glass which a neighbour had proffered -him and raised it slightly. "May you continue as -you have begun!" he added.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Many thanks," was the brief answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a moment's silence. The new-comer -sipped at his share of the German champagne and -then put down the glass with a faint contracting of -the features which suggested a smothered grimace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must let me order up a bottle of Cliquot," -he said. "A great occasion should be worthily -celebrated."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnim shook his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Again—many thanks. I have had enough, and -it is of no use cultivating expensive tastes. But you -perhaps...?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you have no objection." The dragoon beckoned -an orderly, and, having given his instructions, seated -himself at the table and drew out a cigarette-case.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This means Berlin for you," he said. "When -do your orders date from?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"From next summer. I shall still have some -months with the regiment."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So? That's tiresome. The sooner one gets away -from this God-forsaken hole the better. By the way, -there will be quite a little party of us with you. -Seleneck tells me he is expecting a </span><em class="italics">Kommando</em><span> at the -Turnschule, and I am moving heaven and earth to -get ditto. You, lucky dog, are freed for ever from -this treadmill existence."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young Artillery captain glanced sharply at the -speaker's good-looking face, and a close observer -would have noticed that his brows had contracted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The way out is open to every one," he observed -curtly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The other laughed and chose to misunderstand him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Only to the workers, my dear fellow. And I -confess that work has no fascination for me. I am -not ambitious enough, and on the whole I suppose -one form of drudgery is as bad as another. You -like that sort of thing, and I envy you, but I fear I -have no powers of emulation."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was something grim in Arnim's subsequent -silence which might have drawn the dragoon's -attention had it been allowed to last. At that moment, -however, an elderly-looking officer detached himself -from the group by the window and came to where -the two men were seated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm off home," he said. "Are you coming my -way, Arnim?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnim rose with an alacrity which suggested relief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, as far as the Kaiser Strasse. You will -excuse me, Bauer? I must tell the good news at -home, or I shall never be forgiven."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The dragoon bowed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course. By the way," he added, as Arnim -slipped into the overcoat which the orderly had -brought him, "that is a pretty little English girl -your aunt has picked up. I met her the last time I -was at the house. What's her name?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are probably referring to Miss Ingestre."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ingestre? Well, she's a pretty little piece of -goods, anyhow—though not particularly friendly." He -threw back his head and laughed, as though at -some amusing reminiscence. "Imagine: I had just -settled myself down to a comfortable </span><em class="italics">tête-à-tête</em><span>, when -she got up and bolted—straight out of the room like -a young fury. I was rather taken aback until I -consoled myself with the reflection that all English -people are mad—even the pretty ones."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During his recital a sudden light of comprehension -flashed over Arnim's face. He half smiled, but the -smile was indefinably sarcastic.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No doubt Miss Ingestre had her good reasons -for interrupting your comfortable </span><em class="italics">tête-à-tête</em><span>," he -observed. "Though English people may suffer -from madness, there is usually method in it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No doubt she had her good reasons for her return -five minutes later," was the retort. "There was -method in that madness, at any rate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two men looked each other straight in the -eyes. Arnim's hand rested on his sword-hilt, and -the smile had died away from his lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps I ought to remind you that Miss Ingestre -is my aunt's guest, and therefore under my protection," -he said slowly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The reminder is quite unnecessary," the dragoon -returned with perfect sang-froid. "I meant no offence -either to you or Miss Ingestre; and poaching is, -anyhow, not one of my vices."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnim hesitated an instant, then, with a curt -bow, he slipped his arm through that of the officer -standing beside him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, Seleneck," he said, "I have wasted time -enough."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two men made their way out of the Casino -into the street. A sharp east wind greeted them, -and Wolff von Arnim drew a deep breath of relief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I need fresh air," he said. "A man like Bauer -stifles me, sickens me. I cannot imagine why he -always seeks my society. He must know that I -have no liking for him. Does he wish to pick a -quarrel?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The elder man shook his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are a harsh judge, Wolff," he said. "As -far as I know, Bauer is a harmless fellow enough. It -is true that he swaggers a good deal with his money -and is rather pushing in circles where he is not wanted, -but for the rest—I have heard nothing to his discredit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That may be," was the quick answer. "There -are dishonourable men who act honourably out of -caution, and honourable men who act dishonourably -out of rashness. I do not want to be unjust, but I -cannot help putting Bauer in the former category. -My instinct warns me against him—and not only -my instinct. A man who talks about duty as a -drudgery and is content to get through life without -success and with as little effort as possible is a useless -drone. In our calling he is worse than that—a -parasite."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seleneck sighed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, you ambitious, successful fellows!" he said -with a lugubrious tug at his moustache. "You talk -as scornfully of 'getting through life without success' -as though it were a crime. Look at me—grey hairs -already, a family man, and still nothing more than a -blundering old captain, who will be thankful it he is -allowed at the end to retire with a major's pension. -</span><em class="italics">I</em><span> am one of your drones—a parasite, if you like, and -certainly a failure, but Heaven knows it is not my -wish."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are no more a failure than the best of us," -Wolff von Arnim answered vigorously. "I know -you, </span><em class="italics">alter Kerl</em><span>, and I know you have given your best -strength, your best thought to your calling; I know -'duty' is the Alpha and Omega of your life—no -one could ask more of you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have done my best," was the simple answer. -"It hasn't come to much, but still, it was my best. -You, Wolff, will go much farther."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were passing under the light of a street lamp -as he spoke, and Arnim glanced at his companion's -face. There was perhaps something written on the -plain yet honest and soldierly features which touched -him, for his own relaxed, and the softened expression -made him seem almost boyish.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If I do my duty as well as you have done, I shall -be very proud," he said earnestly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They walked on in silence, each absorbed in his -own thoughts, and then Seleneck came to a standstill.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Our ways end here," he said. "I suppose you -are going to Frau von Arnim's?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; I must let her know my good luck. She -will be very glad."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And the little cousin—will she be 'very glad'?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnim met the quizzical not unkindly glance with -an almost imperceptible change of countenance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose so. Why shouldn't she?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She will miss you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnim did not answer, nor did he show any sign of -continuing on his way. He seemed suddenly caught -in a painful train of thought, from which his companion -made no effort to arouse him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor little soul!" he said at last, half to himself. -"It is terribly hard luck on her. No one loved life -as she did, and now"—his brows contracted—"sometimes -I feel as though I were to blame," he added -abruptly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What nonsense!" Seleneck retorted. "Are you -responsible because a horse shies and a girl has the -misfortune to be thrown?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps not; but the feeling of responsibility is -not so easily shaken off. I never see her—or her -mother—without cursing the impulse that made me -take her out that day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It might just as well have happened any other -day and with any one else," Seleneck retorted -cold-bloodedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course. Only one cannot reason like that -with one's conscience. At any rate, there is nothing -I would not do to make her happy—to atone to her. -Besides," he added hastily, as though he had said -something he regretted, "I am very fond of her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The elder man tapped him on the shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Alter Junge</em><span>," he said pointedly, "I can trust -your career to your brains, but I am not so sure that -I can trust your life to your heart. Take care that -you do not end up as Field-Marshal with Disappointment -as your adjutant. </span><em class="italics">Lebewohl</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With an abrupt salute he turned and strode off -into the gathering twilight, leaving Arnim to put -what interpretation he chose to the warning. That -the warning had not been without effect was clear. -Arnim went up the steps of the square-built house -with a slowness that suggested reluctance, and the -features beneath the dark-blue cap, hitherto alight -with energy and enthusiasm, had suddenly become -graver and older.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He found Frau von Arnim in her private sitting-room, -writing letters. She turned with a pleased -smile as he entered, and held out a hand which he -kissed affectionately. The bond between them was -indeed an unusually close one, and dated from Wolff's -first boyhood, when as a pathetically small cadet he -had wept long-controlled and bitter tears on her kind -shoulder and confided to her all the wrongs with which -his elder comrades darkened his life. From that -time he had been a constant Sunday guest at her -table, had been Hildegarde's playfellow throughout -the long Sunday afternoons, and had returned to the -grim Cadettenhaus at nightfall laden with contraband -of the sort dearest to a boy's heart. Afterwards, as -ensign and young lieutenant, he had still looked up -to her with the old confidence, and to this very hour -there had been no passage in his life, wise or foolish, -of which she was not cognisant. She had been mother, -father, and comrade to him, and it was more by instinct -than from any sense of duty that he had come to her -first with his good news.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have been appointed to the Staff in Berlin," he -said. "The order arrived this afternoon. It's all a -step in the right direction, isn't it? At any rate, I -shall be out of the routine and able to do head-work -to my heart's—I mean head's content."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Arnim laughed and pressed the strong -hand which still held hers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is splendid, Wolff," she said. "I knew that the -day would come when we should be proud of </span><em class="italics">unsren -Junge</em><span>. Who knows? Perhaps as an old, old woman -I shall be able to hobble along on a stately General's -arm—that is, of course, if he will be seen with such an -old wreck. But"—her face overshadowed -somewhat—"when shall we have to part with you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not for some months," he said, seating himself -beside her, "and then I think you had better pack up -your goods and chattels and come too. I shall never -be able to exist without you to keep me in order and -Hildegarde to cheer me up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have never noticed that you wanted much -keeping in order," Frau von Arnim said with a grave -smile. "And as for the other matter, it is to you -that Hildegarde owes much of her cheeriness. She -will miss you terribly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A silence fell between them which neither noticed, -though it lasted some minutes. Overhead some one -began to play the "Liebeslied" from the </span><em class="italics">Walküre</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff looked up and found that his aunt's eyes were -fixed on him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hildegarde?" he asked, and for the first time he -felt conscious of a lack of candour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Arnim shook her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor Hildegarde never plays," she reminded him -gently. "It is Nora—Miss Ingestre. You remember -her?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," he said slowly. "She is not easily -forgotten." After a moment's hesitation he added, "I -never knew English people could be so charming. -Those I have met on my travels have either been -badly mannered boors or arrogant pokers. Miss -Ingestre is either an exception or a revelation."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The room was in part darkness, as Frau von Arnim -loved it best. A small lamp burned on her table, and -by its light she could study his face unobserved.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She has won all hearts—even to the coachman, -who has a prejudice against foreigners," she said in -a lighter tone, "and Hildegarde has become another -person since her arrival. I do not know what we -should do without her. When she first came she was, -of course, baked in her insular prejudices, but she is -so open-minded and broad-hearted that they have -fallen away almost miraculously. We have not had -to suffer—as is so often the case—from volleys of -Anglo-Saxon criticisms."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She seems musical, too," Wolff said, who was -still listening with close attention to the unseen -player.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She is musical; so much so that I am having -her properly trained at the Conservatorium," his -aunt answered with enthusiasm. "When she has -got out of certain English mannerisms she will do -well. It is already a delight to listen to her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A tide of warm colour darkened Wolff's face as he -glanced quickly at Frau von Arnim's profile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wonder what little pleasure—or perhaps necessity—you -have denied yourself to perform that act of -kindness?" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Neither the one nor the other, </span><em class="italics">lieber Junge</em><span>. If I -deny myself one pleasure to give myself another, it -can hardly be counted as a denial, can it? Besides, -I believe her people are very badly off, and it is a -shame that her talent should suffer for it. There! -I am sure you want to go upstairs. Run along, and -let me write my letters."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff laughed at the old command, which dated -back to the time when he had worried her with his -boy's escapades.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll just glance in and tell Hildegarde my good -luck," he said, a little awkwardly. "I promised her -I would let her know as soon as the news came."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do, dear Wolff."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She turned back to her letters, and Arnim, taking -advantage of her permission, hurried out of the room -and upstairs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hildegarde's little boudoir was an inner room, -divided off from the neighbouring apartment by a -heavy Liberty curtain. Governed by he knew not -what instinct or desire, he stepped softly across and, -drawing the hangings a little on one side, remained -a quiet, unobserved spectator of the peaceful scene.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora had left the </span><em class="italics">Walküre</em><span> and had plunged into the -first act of </span><em class="italics">Tristan und Isolde</em><span>. She played it with -inexperience and after her own ideas, which were -perhaps not the most correct, but the face alone, -with its youth, its eagerness, its enthusiasm, must -have disarmed the most captious critic. And Wolff -von Arnim was by no means captious at that moment. -Though he was listening, he hardly realised what she -was playing, too absorbed in the pure pleasure which -the whole picture gave him to think of details. He -knew, for instance, that her dress was simple and -pretty, but he could not tell afterwards whether it -was blue or green or pink, or of no colour at all; he -knew that he had never before found so much charm -in a woman's face, but he would have been hard put -to to describe exactly wherein that charm lay, or -whether her features were regular or otherwise. He -simply received an impression—one that he found -difficult to forget.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A lamp had been placed on the top of the piano, -and by its light the bright, wide-open eyes and eager -fingers were finding their way through the difficult -score. The rest of the room had been left in shadow. -Arnim knew where his cousin was lying, but he did -not look in her direction—perhaps he did not even -think of her, so far did she lie outside the picture on -which his whole interest was centred; and when the -music died into silence, her voice startled him by its -very unexpectedness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff, won't you come in now?" she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Was there pain or annoyance in her tone? Arnim -could not be certain. The knowledge that she had -seen him standing there was sufficiently disconcerting. -When we are unobserved, we unconsciously drop the -masks which the instinct of self-preservation forces -us to assume in the presence even of our dearest, -and our faces betray emotions or thoughts which we -have, perhaps, not even acknowledged to ourselves. -As he advanced into the room, Arnim wondered -uncomfortably how much the invalid's quick eyes -had seen and if there was, indeed, anything in his -looks or action which could have wounded her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must think my manners very bad," he said -in English as he greeted Nora, "but I knew if I came -in you would stop playing, and that would have -disappointed me and annoyed Hildegarde. You see, -I know my cousin's little foibles, and one is that she -does not like being interrupted in anything. Is that -not so, Hildegarde?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are a privileged person," she answered with -a gentle smile on her pale face. "Still, I am glad -you let Nora—Miss Ingestre—finish. She plays well, -don't you think?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Splendidly—considering," was the answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora looked up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Considering? That sounds a doubtful compliment."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I mean, English people as a rule have not much -understanding for dramatic music."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, they have!" Nora blazed out impulsively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have they?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Still seething with injured patriotism, she met the -laughter in his eyes with defiance. Then her sense of -humour got the better of her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, they haven't," she admitted frankly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There, now you are honest! Have you tried -</span><em class="italics">Tristan</em><span> for the first time?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora nodded. She had gone back to the piano and -was turning over the leaves of the score with nervous -fingers. For some reason which she never attempted -to fathom, Wolff von Arnim's entries into her life, -seldom and fleeting as they had been hitherto, had -always brought with them a subtle, indescribable -change in herself and in her surroundings. There -were times when she was almost afraid of him and -welcomed his departure. Then, again, when he was -gone she was sorry that she had been so foolish, and -looked forward to their next meeting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have tried to read the first act before," she -said, "but it is so hard. I can make so little out of -it. I am sure it all sounds poor and confused compared -to the real thing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your piano score is inadequate," he said, coming -to her side. "The duet arrangement is much better. -Hildegarde and I used to play it together for hours."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora looked at him with wide-open eyes of wonder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can you play?" she asked, very much as though -he had boasted of his flying abilities, so that he laughed -with boyish amusement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I play like a great many of us do," he said, -"sufficiently well to amuse myself. I have a piano in my -quarters which I ill-treat at regular intervals. Do -you remember how angry you used to get because I -thumped so?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had turned to the girl lying on the sofa, but she -avoided his frank gaze.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," she said. "It is not so long ago, Wolff." And -then, almost as though she were afraid of having -betrayed some deeper feeling, she added quickly, -"Couldn't you two try over the old duets together? -I should so like to hear them, and I am too tired to -talk."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Would you like to, Miss Ingestre?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very much—only you will find me dreadfully -slow and stupid."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He hunted amongst an old bundle of music, and -having found the required piece, he arranged it on -the piano and prepared himself for the task with -great gravity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must let me have the bass," he said; "then -I can thump without being so much noticed. I have -a decided military touch. Hildegarde says I treat -the notes as though they were recruits."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora played her part without nervousness, at first -because she was convinced of her own superiority -and afterwards because he inspired her. His guidance -was sure and firm, and when he corrected, it was not -as a master but as a comrade seeking to give advice -as to a common task. Her shyness and uneasiness -with him passed away. Every bar seemed to make -him less of a stranger, and once in a long rest she -found herself watching the powerful, carefully kept -hands on the keyboard with a curious pleasure, as -though they typified the man himself—strong, clean, -and honest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus they played through the whole of the first -act, and when the last chord had been struck there -was a long silence. It was as though both were -listening to the echo of all that had gone before, and -it was with an effort that Nora roused herself to speak.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How well you play!" she said under her breath. -"And how grand—how wonderful it is!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned and looked at her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you understand it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not all. I feel that there are many more wonders -to fathom which are yet too deep for me. But I -understand enough to know that they are there—and -to be glad."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is the noblest—most perfect expression of love -and of the human heart that was ever written or -composed," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked up at him, and their eyes met gravely -and steadily for a moment, in which the world was -forgotten.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you very much," a quiet voice said from -the background.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnim turned quickly, so quickly that it was almost -a start.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now for your criticism, Hildegarde!" he cried -gaily. "I assure you, we are both trembling."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hildegarde shook her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I cannot criticise," she said. "You played so -well together, much better than when I was able to -take my part." She hesitated. "One could hardly -believe that you had never practised together before," -she added slowly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora rose and closed the piano. Without knowing -why, the words pained her and the brief silence that -followed seemed oppressive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnim followed her example.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have been here a disgraceful time!" he -exclaimed, looking at his watch. "And there! I -have never even told you what I really came about. -I have been passed into the General Staff. What -do you think of that? Are you not proud to have -such a cousin?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His tone was gay, half teasing, but there was no -response from the quiet figure on the sofa. Nora's -eyes, rendered suddenly sharp, saw that the pale lips -were compressed as though in pain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course, Wolff, I am so glad. It is splendid -for you. How long will you be there—in Berlin, I -mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A long time, I expect, unless there is a war."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, as though by some intuition he knew what -was passing in her mind, he came to her side and took -her hand affectionately between his own.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You and the mother will have to come too," he -said. "I have just been telling her that I cannot -get on without you. Imagine my lonely state! It's -bad enough here, now that I have no one to ride out -with me. Old Bruno is eating off his head in -anticipation of the day when you will gallop him through -the woods again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hildegarde shook her head, but his words, spoken -hastily and almost at random, had brought the soft -colour to her cheeks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall never ride again," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked at her cousin and then to Nora, and her -own wistful face became suddenly overshadowed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But then," she went on with a quick, almost -inaudible sigh, "that is no reason why Bruno should -eat his head off, as you say. It is true I cannot ride -him any more, but Miss Ingestre can, and it would -do her good. Wouldn't it, Nora?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Was there an appeal in her voice which both heard -and understood? Arnim said nothing. He did not -take his eyes from his cousin's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is really very good of you," Nora said quickly, -"but I think I had better not. You see, I love it -so, and it is best not to encourage impossible tastes. -Besides, I have no habit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Warned, perhaps, by her own involuntary start of -pleasure, by Arnim's silence and Hildegarde's voice, -she had sought wildly for any reasonable excuse, -and unwittingly chosen the one most likely to arouse -the generous impulses in both her companions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whilst you are here you must enjoy everything -you can get," Arnim said, smiling at her. "And who -knows what Fate has in store for you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And the habit is no difficulty," Hildegarde chimed -in. "You can have mine. We are about the same -size, and it could easily be made to fit you. Do, -dear!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was now all enthusiasm for her own plan, and -Nora, glancing at Arnim's face, saw that it had become -eager with pleasure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do!" he begged. "I should so like to show -you all the woods about here. Or—can you not -trust yourself to me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A second time their eyes met.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course I should trust you," Nora said quickly, -"and there is nothing I should love more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then that is settled. You must let me know the -first day which suits you. Good-bye, </span><em class="italics">gnädiges Fräulein</em><span>. -Good-bye, Hildegarde. I am sending my orderly -round with some books I have found. I think you -will like them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, Wolff."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he was gone. They heard the door bang -downstairs, and the cheery clatter of his sword upon -the stone steps.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora came to the sofa and knelt down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How good you are to me!" she said. "You -are always thinking of my pleasure, of things which -you know I like, and, after all, it ought to be just -the other way round."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am very fond of you," Hildegarde answered in -a low voice. "Though I know you so short a time, -you are the only friend I really care for. It made me -bitter to see other girls enjoy their life—but you are -different. I don't think I should grudge you—anything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her voice broke suddenly. She turned her face to -the wall, and there was a long silence. Nora still -knelt by the sofa. Her eyes were fixed thoughtfully -in front of her, and there was an expression on her -young face of wonder, almost of fear. Something -new had come into her life. There was a change in -herself of which she was vaguely conscious. What -was it? What had brought it? Was it possible -that in a mere glance something had passed out of -her, something been received? She sprang restlessly -to her feet, and as she did so a smothered, shaken sob -broke upon the stillness. In an instant she had -forgotten herself and her own troubled thoughts. She -bent over the quivering figure and tried to draw -away the hands that hid the tear-stained face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hildegarde—you are crying? What is it? What -have I done?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing—nothing. It is only—I am so silly and -weak—and the music——" She broke off and looked -up into Nora's face with a pathetic, twisted smile. And -then, seeming to yield to a passionate impulse, she -flung her thin arms about her companion's neck. -"Oh, Nora, you are so pretty and good! Every one -</span><em class="italics">must</em><span> love you—and I love you so!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The words were an appeal, a confession, a cry -breaking from an over-burdened heart. Nora drew -the fair head against her shoulder, pitying and -comforting a grief which she as yet but partly understood.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-awakening"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE AWAKENING</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Frau von Arnim sat at the round breakfast-table -before a pile of open letters, which she took in turn, -considered, and laid aside. Her expression was -grave, and in the full morning light which poured in -through the window opposite she looked older, wearier -than even those who knew her best would have thought -possible. The world of Karlsburg was accustomed to -regard the Oberhofmarshall's widow as a woman of -whom it would be safe to prophesy, "Age shall not -wither her," for, as far as her envious contemporaries -could see, the years had drifted past and brought no -change to the serene, proud face. Perhaps they would -have admitted, on reflection, that their memories -could not reach back to the time when Frau von Arnim -had been a girl—that, as far as they knew, she had -always been the same, always serene and proud, -never youthful in the true sense of the word. And -therein lay the paradoxical explanation for what was -called her "eternal youth." Magda von Arnim had -never been really young. The storms had broken too -early on her life and had frozen the overflowing spirits -of her girlhood into strength of reserve, patience, -and dignity. But she had not allowed them to -embitter the sources of her humanity, and thus she -retained in her later years what is best in -youth—generosity, sympathy, a warm and understanding -heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Arnim put aside her last letter, and with -her fine white hand shading her eyes remained in an -attitude of deep thought, until the door of the -breakfast-room opened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hildegarde!" she exclaimed, and then, quickly, -painfully, "Why, how stupid of me! It is Nora, of -course. Good morning, dear child. I must have -been indulging in what you call a day-dream, for -when you came in I thought it was really poor little -Hildegarde grown well and strong again." She held -Nora at arm's length. "I do not think the resemblance -will ever cease to startle me. The riding-habit -makes you look so alike—though really you are -quite, quite different."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She tried to laugh, but the hurried tone, the sudden -colour that had rushed to the usually pale cheeks -betrayed to Nora the painful impression she had -caused. They hurried her to a decision that had -already presented itself to her before as something -inevitable, something she must do if she were to be -just and loyal. Time after time she had shrunk back -as before some hard sacrifice, and now she felt she -could shrink back no longer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Gnädige Frau</em><span>, I wanted to tell you—if you don't -mind, I will give up the riding. After to-day I don't -think I will go again. I think it better not."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But—why?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was now Nora's turn to crimson with embarrassment. -She was herself hardly clear as to her reasons. -The night before she had played the second act of -</span><em class="italics">Tristan und Isolde</em><span> with Wolff von Arnim, and when -it was at an end they had found Hildegarde lying in -a sleep from which they could not at first awaken -her, so close was it allied to another and graver state. -And Wolff von Arnim had had a strange misery in -his eyes. Such was the only explanation she knew -of. She knew, too, that she could not give it. -Nevertheless, she held her ground desperately.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because I believe it hurts you, and if not you, -at least Hildegarde," she said at last. "She cries -sometimes when she thinks I shall not find out, and -though she never owns to it, I know it is because I -enjoy things she used to have and cannot have. And, -besides, it isn't fair, it isn't right. You have both -been so good to me. You have treated me just as -though I were a daughter of the house, and I have -done nothing to deserve it. I have only caused -Hildegarde pain, and that is what I do not want -to do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Arnim took her by the hand and drew -her closer. A faint, rather whimsical smile played -about the fine mouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear Nora, the fact that you are the daughter of -the house proves that you deserve the best we can -give you. Neither Hildegarde nor I are given to -adopting relations promiscuously. And as for the -other matter, anybody suffering as Hildegarde does -is bound to have her moments of bitterness and -regret—perhaps envy. Thank God they are not -many. In the first months I have known the sight of -a child playing in the street bring the tears to her -eyes, and it is only natural that you, with your health -and strength, should remind her of what she has lost. -And there is another thing"—her manner became -grave, almost emphatic—"a useless sacrifice is no -sacrifice at all; it is simply flying in the face of a -Providence who has given to one happiness, another -sorrow. It will not make Hildegarde happy if you -stay at home—on the contrary, she will blame -herself—and you will deprive my nephew of a pleasure. -There! After that little lecture you must have your -breakfast and read your letters. You have only -half an hour before you start, and my nephew suffers -from military punctuality in its most aggravated -form."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora obediently made a pretence of partaking of -the frugal rolls and coffee. As a matter of fact, the -prospect before her, but above all the two letters -lying on her plate, had successfully driven away her -appetite. The one envelope was addressed in her -father's spider-like hand, the other writing set her -heart beating with uneasiness. At the first opportunity -she opened her father's bulky envelope and hurried -over its contents. Sandwiched in between rhetorical -outbursts of solemn advice, she extracted the facts -that her mother was unusually out of health, that -he was consequently distracted with worry and -over-burdened with work, that Miles had obtained -sick-leave and was enjoying a long rest in the bosom of -the family, that the neighbours, Mrs. Clerk in -particular, were both surprised and shocked at her, Nora's, -continued absence. "Home is not home without -you," the Rev. John had written pathetically. Then -at the end of the letter had come the sting. There -was a certain paragraph which Nora read twice over -with heightened colour and a pained line between the -brows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear child, you tell me that you are going out -riding with a certain Herr von Arnim, your -protectress's nephew. Apart from the fact that an -indulgence in pleasure which your family can no -longer afford seems to me in itself unfitting, I feel -that there is more besides in the matter to cause me -grave anxiety on your behalf. Herr von Arnim's -name occurs constantly in your letters; he appears -to use his musical talent as an excuse to pay you -constant attention; you meet him at the theatre—which -place, I must say in passing, you attend with -what I fear must be a wholly demoralising frequency; -he lends you books, he instructs you in the German -language. Now, my dear child, I myself have never -met a German officer, but from various accounts I -understand that they are men of a disorderly mode -of life who would not hesitate to compromise a young, -inexperienced girl. Knowing, of course, that your -affections do not come into question as regards a -foreigner, I warn you not to allow yourself to become -this man's plaything. As his aunt's dependent, he -may no doubt think that you are fit game for his -amusement. Remember that you are an English -girl, and show him that as such you are too proud -to play a degrading rôle, and that you will have none -of his attentions. Ah, Nora, I would that I were with -you to watch over you! Oh that you were in a -certain good man's keeping!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora dropped the letter. Her cheeks burned with -indignation. It was in this light, then, that her -father judged Wolff von Arnim's grave, almost formal, -courtesy, their innocent, straightforward friendship -together! And yet, beneath the indignation, new -fears and doubts stirred to life. She did not attempt -to analyse them. Impatiently, as though seeking to -escape from all self-interrogation, she picked up the -second letter and tore it open. It was from Arnold. -Like the man, the handwriting was bold and clear, -the sentences abrupt, sincere, and unpolished. In a -few lines he thanked her for her last letter, outlined -the small events of his own life. He then plunged -into the immediate future.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Unexpectedly, I have been granted a year's leave -to travel in Central Africa," he had written. "You -can understand that I shall be only too glad to get -out of England and to have some active work outside -the usual military grind. I leave Southampton in -two days' time, so that you will not have time to -answer this. In any case, I do not want you to -hurry. I reach Aden on the 10th. That will give -you time to consider what I am going to say. Hitherto -I have been silent as to the matter that lies nearest -my heart, but now I am going so far from you I must -speak, Nora. I believe that one day you will become -my wife. I believe that it is so destined, and I believe -you know it as well as I do. Our parting at Victoria -convinced me, or at least it gave me the greatest -possible hope. I believe that if I had jumped into -the carriage beside you and taken you in my arms, -you would have yielded. I was a fool to have -hesitated, but perhaps it is best that you should decide -in cold blood. You know what I have to offer you—an -honest, clean devotion, not the growth of a moment's -passion, but of years. I know you and I love and -understand you—even to your faults. You know -me, and whether you love me or not, you at least -know that I am a man who never changes, who will -be twenty years hence what he is to-day. Is this to -be despised? Is not reciprocal trust and -understanding worth more than a shortlived passion? -Nora, do not count it against me if I cannot write to -you eloquently, if I am poor in all the outward -elegancies of speech and manner. I have no metaphors -to describe my love to you; no doubt I shall always -fail in those graceful nothings which you seem to -appreciate so much. I can only speak and act as a -straightforward Englishman who offers a woman his -honest love. For the second—but not the last time, -if needs must be—will you be my wife? Consider well, -dearest, and if you can, let me go into my exile with -the blessed knowledge that in a short time—for I -shall not wait a year—I may come and fetch you -home. Nora..."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hoofs clattered impatiently in the street outside. -The Arnims' little maid opened the door and grinned -with mysterious friendliness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Der Herr Hauptmann ist unten und wartet</em><span>," she -said. "</span><em class="italics">Gnädiges Fräulein mochten sofort kommen!</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She spoke in a tone of command which her intense -respect for "</span><em class="italics">den Herrn Hauptmann</em><span>" more than -justified. Was not her "Schatz" in the Herr -Hauptmann's battery, and did not he say every Sunday, -when they walked out together, that the whole Army -did not contain a finer officer or a more "</span><em class="italics">famoser -Kerl</em><span>"?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Ich komme gleich</em><span>," Nora answered. She thrust -the half-read letter into the pocket of her loose-fitting -coat and ran downstairs. All the way she was thinking -of Robert Arnold with a strange mingling of affection -and pity. She thought how good and honest he was, -and of the life of a woman who entrusted herself -to his care—and then abruptly he passed out of her -mind like a shadow dispersed by a broad, full ray of -sunshine. Wolff von Arnim stood in the hall. His -face was lifted to greet her, his hand outstretched. -She took it. She tried to say something banal, -something that would have broken the spell that had -fallen upon her. Her lips refused to frame the words, -and he too did not speak. Side by side they went out -into the cold morning air. The orderly stood waiting -with the two horses. Arnim motioned him on one -side, and with sure strength and gentleness lifted -Nora into the saddle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you comfortable?" he asked; and then, -with a sudden change of tone, "Why, what is the -matter? Did I hurt you? You are so pale."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora shook her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is nothing—nothing. I am quite all right. I -lost my breath—that is all. You lifted me as though -I were a mere feather."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She tried to laugh, but instead bit her lip and -looked down into his face with a curious bewilderment. -He had not hurt her, and yet some sensation that was -near akin to pain had passed like an electric current -right to the centre of her being.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am quite all right," she said again, and nodded -as though to reassure him. "Please do not be so -alarmed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To herself she thought, "What is the matter with -me? What has happened?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These were the questions she asked herself incessantly -as they walked their horses through the empty -streets. She found no answer. Everything in her -that had hitherto been was no more. All the old -landmarks in her character, her confidence, her courage, -her inexhaustible fund of life were gone, leaving -behind them a revolution of unknown emotions whose -sudden upheaval she could neither explain nor control. -Her world had changed, but as yet it was a chaos -where she could find no firm land, no sure place of -refuge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They left the town behind them and walked their -horses through the long </span><em class="italics">allées</em><span> of stately trees. Almost -without their knowledge their conversation, broken -and curiously strained as it was, dropped into silence. -The deadened thud of their horses' hoofs upon the -soft turf was the only sound that broke the morning -stillness, and the mists hanging low upon the earth, -as yet undisturbed by the rising winter sun, intensified -the almost ghostly forest loneliness. It was a -loneliness that pierced like a cold wind through Nora's -troubled soul. Though they had ridden the same -way before, at the same hour, surrounded by the -same grey shadows, she had never felt as she felt -now—that they, alone of the whole world, were alive -and that they were together. The clang of the park -gates behind them had been like a voice whose warning, -jarring tones echoed after them in the stillness, "Now -you are alone—now you are alone!" What was -there in this loneliness and silence? Why did it -suffocate, oppress her so that she would have been -thankful if a sudden breeze had stirred the fallen -leaves to sound and apparent life? Why had she -herself no power to break the silence with her own -voice? She glanced quickly at the man beside her. -Did he also feel something of what she was experiencing -that he had become so silent? Usually a fresh, -vigorous gaiety had laughed out of his eyes to meet -her. To-day he did not seem to know that she had -looked at him, or even that she was there. His gaze -was set resolutely ahead, his lips beneath the short -fair moustache were compressed in stern, thoughtful -lines which changed the whole character of his face, -making him older, graver. Believing herself -unobserved, even forgotten, Nora did not look away. She -saw Arnim in a new light, as the worker, the soldier, -the man of action and iron purpose. Every line of -the broad-shouldered figure in the grey </span><em class="italics">Litewka</em><span> -suggested power and energy, and the features, thrown -into shadow by his officer's cap, were stamped with -the same virile characteristics translated into intellect -and will.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a man you are!" was the thought that -flashed through Nora's mind, and even in that moment -he turned towards her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It seems we are not the only ones out this morning," -he said quietly. "There is a rider coming towards -us—Bauer, if I am not mistaken. Let us draw a -little on one side."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She followed his guidance, at the same time looking -in the direction which he had indicated. The mists -were thinning, and she caught the flash of a pale-blue -uniform, and a moment later recognised the man -himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, it is Lieutenant Bauer," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The new-comer drew in his horse to a walk and -passed them at the salute. Nora caught a glimpse -of his face and saw there was an expression of cynical -amusement which aroused in her all the old instinctive -aversion. She stiffened in her saddle and the angry -blood rushed to her cheeks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am glad he is not in your regiment," she said -impulsively.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, Miss Ingestre?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because I dislike him," she answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did not smile at her blunt reasoning—rather, -the unusual gravity in his eyes deepened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have no right to criticise a comrade," he said; -"only I want you to remember that in a great army -such as ours there must always be exceptions, men -who have forced their way for the sake of position—idlers, -cads, and nonentities. There are not many, -thank God, and they are soon weeded out, but I -want you to believe that they are the exceptions."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do believe it," she said gently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you." He waited a moment and then -added, "It is a great deal to me that you should -think well of us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I could not well do otherwise," she answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am a foreigner." The simple pronoun betrayed -him, but Nora did not notice the change. She was -gazing ahead, her brows knitted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That does not seem to make much difference," -she said. "I used to think it would—only a few -weeks ago. I must have been very young then. I -am very young now, but not so young. One can -learn more in an hour than in a lifetime."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It all depends on the hour," he said, smiling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No—I think each hour has the same possibilities. -It all depends on oneself. If one has opened one's -heart——" She left the sentence unfinished, her -thoughts reverting suddenly to her mother, and for -a moment the man beside her was forgotten. But -not for more than a moment. Then, with a shock, -the consciousness of his presence aroused her, and -she looked up at him. It was only his profile which -she saw, but some subtle change in the bold outline -and a still subtler change in herself quickened the -beating of her heart. As once before that morning, -she suffered an inexplicable thrill of pain and wondered -at herself and at the silence again closing in about -them. It was a silence which had its source more in -themselves than in their surrounding world, for -when the thud of galloping hoofs broke through the -deadening wall of mist they did not hear it, or heard -it unconsciously and without recognition. Only when -it grew to a threatening thunder did it arouse Arnim -from his lethargy. He turned in his saddle, and the -next instant caught Nora's horse sharply to one side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is Bauer again!" he said. "Take care!" He -had acted not an instant too soon. The shadow -which he had seen growing out against the grey wall -behind them became sharply outlined, and like a -whirlwind swept past them, escaping the haunch of -Nora's horse by a hair's-breadth. The frightened -animal shied, wrenching the reins from Arnim's -grasp, and swerved across the narrow roadway. -Whether she lost her nerve or whether in that moment -she did not care Nora could not have said. The -horse broke into a gallop, and she made no effort to -check its dangerous speed. The rapid, exhilarating -motion lifted her out of herself, the fresh, keen air -stung colour to her cheeks and awoke in her a flash -of her old fearless life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Ruhe! Ruhe!</em><span>" she heard a voice say in her -ear. "</span><em class="italics">Ruhe!</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But she paid no heed to the warning. Quiet! -That was what she most feared. It was from that -ominous silence she was flying, and from the moment -when it would reveal the mystery of her own heart. -Rather than that silence, that revelation, better to -gallop on and on until exhaustion numbed sensibility, -hushed every stirring, unfathomed desire into a -torpor of indifference! She felt at first no fear. The -power to check her wild course had long since passed -out of her hands, but she neither knew nor cared. -She saw the forest rush by in a blurred, bewildering -mist, and far behind heard the muffled thunder of -horse's hoofs in hot pursuit. But she saw and heard -as in some fantastic dream whose end lay in the -weaving hands of an implacable Destiny. In that -same dream a shadow crept up to her side, drew -nearer till they were abreast; a grip of iron fell upon -her bridle hand. Then for the first time she awoke -and understood. And with understanding came fear. -Her own grip upon the straining reins relaxed. She -reeled weakly in the saddle, thinking, "This is indeed -the end." But the shock for which she dimly waited -did not come. Instead, miraculously supported, she -saw the mists clear and trees and earth and sky slip -back to their places before her eyes. The world, which -for one moment had seemed to be rushing to its -destruction, stood motionless, and Nora found herself in -the saddle, held there by the strength she would have -recognised, so it seemed to her, even if it had caught -her up out of the midst of death. Arnim's face was -bent close to hers, and its expression filled her with -pity and a joy wonderful and inexplicable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Wie haben Sie mir das anthun können?</em><span>" he -stammered, and then, in broken, passionate English, -"How could you? If anything had happened—do -you not know what it would have meant to me?" With -a hard effort he regained his self-possession and -let her go. "You frightened me terribly," he said. -"I—I am sorry."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have saved my life," she answered. "It is -I who have to be sorry—that I frightened you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was smiling with a calm strangely in contrast -to his painful but half-mastered agitation. The -suspense of the last minutes was still visible in his -white face, and the hand which he raised mechanically -to his cap shook.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was Bauer's fault," he said. "He rode like a -madman. I shall call him to account. We seem -fated to cross each other."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then why call him to account—since it is Fate? -After all, nothing has happened."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Had, indeed, nothing happened? She avoided his -eyes, and the colour died from her cheeks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us go home," he said abruptly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They walked their panting horses back the way -they had come. As before, neither spoke. To all -appearances nothing had changed between them, and -yet the change was there. The sunlight had broken -through the mists, the oppressive silence was gone, -and life stirred in the long grasses, peered with -wondering, timid eyes from amidst the shadows, where -deer and squirrel and all the peaceful forest world -watched and waited until the intruders had passed -on and left them to their quiet. And in Nora's heart -also the sun had risen. The chaos had resolved itself -into calm; and though so long as the man with the -pale, troubled face rode at her side she could give no -account even to herself of the mysterious happiness -which had come so suddenly and so strangely, she -was yet content to wait and enjoy her present peace -without question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus they passed out of the gates and through the -busy streets, Arnim riding close to her side, as though -to shield her from every possible danger. But the -silence between them remained unbroken. It was -the strangest thing of all that, though throughout -they had scarcely spoken, more had passed between -them than in all the hours of the gay and serious -comradeship they had spent together.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the door of the Arnims' house Wolff dismounted -and helped Nora to the ground. And as they stood -for a moment hand in hand, he looked at her for the -first time full in the eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I cannot thank God enough that you are safe," -he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She heard in his low voice the last vibrations of the -storm, and the thought that it was </span><em class="italics">her</em><span> danger which -had shaken this man from his strong self-control -overwhelmed her so that she could bring no answer -over her lips. She turned and ran into the house, -into her own room, where she stood with her hands -clasped before her burning face, triumphant, -intoxicated, swept away on a whirlwind of unmeasured -happiness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It is the privilege—the greatest privilege perhaps—of -youth to be swept away on whirlwinds beyond the -reach of doubt and fear, and Nora was very young. -Over the new world which had risen like an island -paradise out of the chaos of the old, she saw a light -spread out in ever-widening circles till it enveloped -her whole life. For Nora the child was dead, the -woman in her had awakened because she loved for -the first time and knew that she was loved.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a moment of supreme happiness, and, as -such moments needs must be if our poor mortal hearts -are to be kept working, shortlived. Even as her -eager, listening ears caught the last echo of horses' -hoofs outside, some one knocked at the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fräulein Nora, please come at once," a servant's -voice called. "The Fräulein Hildegarde has been -taken very ill, and she is asking for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am coming," Nora answered mechanically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her hands had fallen to her side. The whirlwind -had dropped her, as is the way with whirlwinds, and -she stood there pale and for the moment paralysed -by the shock and an undefined foreboding.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="renunciation"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">RENUNCIATION</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Frau von Arnim was waiting at the door of Hildegarde's -bedroom. In the half-light Nora saw only -the dim outline of the usually grave and composed -face, but the hand that took hers betrayed more than -the brightest searchlight could have done. It was -icy cold, steady, but with something desperate in its -clasp.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora, are you accustomed to people who are very ill?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My mother is often ill," Nora answered, and the -fear at her heart seemed to pass into her very blood. -"But surely Hildegarde—it is not serious?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Arnim shook her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not know," she said. "She fainted suddenly, -and since then she has been in a feverish state which -I do not understand. Poor little Hildegarde!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She spoke half to herself, quietly, almost coldly. -Only Nora, strung to that pitch of sensitiveness where -the very atmosphere seems to vibrate in sympathy, -knew all the stifled pain, the infinite mother-tenderness -which the elder woman cloaked behind a stern reserve. -And because the best of human hearts is a complicated -thing answering at once to a dozen cross-influences, -Nora's pity was intensified by the swift realisation -that even her wonderful new happiness might be -struck down in an hour, a minute, as this woman's -had been.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me look after her," she pleaded. "I can be -such a good nurse. I understand illness—and I love -Hildegarde."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Something like a smile relaxed Frau von Arnim's set -features. The words had been so girlish in their -enthusiasm and self-confidence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know," she said, "and Hildegarde loves you. -She has been asking after you ever since she recovered -consciousness. Let us go in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She opened the door softly and led the way into -the silent room. The blinds had been drawn down, -and the great four-posted bed loomed up grim and -immense at the far end, seeming to swallow up the -frail, motionless figure in its shadow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora tiptoed across the heavy carpet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hildegarde," she whispered, "are you better?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The closed eyes opened full and looked at her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I am better. It is nothing. I fainted—only -a little time after you had gone—and since then -I have not been well." She stopped, her gaze, curiously -intense and steadfast, still fixed on Nora's face. -Her sentences had come in jerks in a rough, dry voice. -She now stretched out her hand and caught Nora's arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You enjoyed your ride?" she whispered. "Nothing -happened?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Troubled by the steady eyes and the feverish clasp, -which seemed to burn through to her very bone, -Nora answered hastily and with a forced carelessness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing very much. Bruno bolted with me in -the woods, and I do not know what might have -happened if Herr von Arnim had not come to my -rescue. It was all my fault."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hildegarde turned her flushed face a little on one -side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I knew something had happened," she said almost -to herself. "It all came over me when I fainted. I -knew everything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora made no answer. She was thankful for the -half-light, thankful that the large, dark eyes had -closed as though in utter weariness. They had -frightened her just as the conclusive "I know -everything" had done by their infallible mysterious -knowledge. "And even if you do know everything," -she thought, "why should I mind?—why should I -be afraid?" Nevertheless, fear was hammering at -her heart as she turned away. Frau von Arnim took -her by the hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She seems asleep," she whispered. "Let us -leave her until the doctor comes. Then we shall -know better what to do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was as though she had become suddenly anxious -to get Nora away from the sick girl's bedside, and -Nora yielded without protest. She felt that -Hildegarde's need of her had passed; that she had indeed -only waited to ask that one question, "Did anything -happen?" before sinking into a feverish stupor. -Silent, and strangely sick at heart, Nora followed -Frau von Arnim from the room into the passage. -There the elder woman took the troubled young face -between her hands and kissed it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hildegarde loves you," she said gravely. "I -perhaps know best how much; but she has lost a -great deal that makes life worth living, Nora, and -sometimes bitterness rises above every other feeling. -When that happens you must have pity and understanding. -You must try and imagine what it would -be like if you lost health and strength——" She -stopped short, but Nora, struggling with the hard, -painful lump in her throat, did not notice the break. -She saw only in the sad eyes the same appeal that -had met her on the first evening, "Be pitiful!" and, -obeying an irresistible impulse, she put her arms -about Frau von Arnim's neck in an outburst of -conflicting feeling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do understand!" she cried brokenly. "And -I am so dreadfully sorry. I would do anything to -help her—to make her happy!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know you would, dear Nora; but that is not -in your power or mine. She must learn happiness -out of herself, as soon or late we all must do. We -can only wait and be patient."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They said no more, but they kept together, as -people do who find an instinctive consolation in each -other's presence. An hour later the doctor arrived. -He pronounced high fever, apparently without any -direct cause, and ordered quiet and close watching.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So far, it seems nothing serious," he said, with a -thoughtful shake of the head, "but she is delicate -and over-sensitive. Every mental excitement will -work inevitably upon her health. She must be spared -all trouble and irritation."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>According to his suggestion, Frau von Arnim and -Nora shared the task of watching in the sick-room. -There was nothing for them to do, for Hildegarde lay -inert and silent, apparently unconscious of their -presence, and the hours slipped heavily past. At ten -o'clock Nora took up her post. She had slept a little, -and the dark rings beneath Frau von Arnim's eyes -caused her to say gently:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must rest as long as you can. I am not -tired. I could watch all night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Arnim shook her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will come again at twelve," she said, with a -faint smile. "Youth must have its sleep, and I -shall be too anxious to be away long."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The door closed softly, and Nora was left to her -lonely vigil. She stood for a moment in the centre -of the room, overcome by a sudden uneasiness and -fear. She had watched before, but never before had -the silence seemed so intense, the room so full of -moving shadows. Except for the reflection from the -log fire and the thin ray of a shaded night-light, the -apartment was in darkness, but to Nora's excited -imagination the darkness was alive and only the -outstretched figure beneath the canopy dead. The -illusion was so strong that she crept closer, listening -with beating heart. There was no sound. For one -sickening moment it seemed as though her fear had -become a reality—then a stifled sigh broke upon the -stillness. Hildegarde stirred restlessly, and again -there was silence, but no longer the same, no longer -so oppressive. Death was as yet far off, and, relieved -and comforted, Nora drew an arm-chair into the -circle of firelight. From where she sat she could -observe every movement of her charge without herself -changing position, and for some time she watched -anxiously, self-forgetful in the fulfilment of her duty. -But then the fascination of the glowing logs drew her -eyes away, and almost without her knowledge her -thoughts slipped their leash and escaped from the -gloomy room with its atmosphere of pain, out into -the forest, back to the moment when life had broken -out into full sunshine and happiness such as she had -never known, and love incomparable, irresistible, -swept down upon her and bore her with them into a -new paradise. Who shall blame her if she saw in the -bright flames not Hildegarde's pale, suffering face, -but the features of the man who had wrought in her -the great miracle which occurs once, surely, in every -woman's life? Who shall blame her if a half-read -letter and its writer were forgotten, or, if remembered, -only with a tender pity such as all good women must -feel for honest failure? And in that pity there was -mingled a certain wonder at herself that she could -ever have supposed her feeling for Robert Arnold to -be love. What was the childish regret at parting, -the casual affection for an old comrade, blown to a -warmer glow by the first harsh winds of exile, compared -to this—this wonderful Thing which in an instant -had revealed to her the possibility of a union where -the loneliness, conscious or unconscious, surrounding -each individual life is bridged and the barriers between -mind and mind, heart and heart, are burnt down by -the flames of a pure and noble passion? Poor Arnold! -It was well for him that he could not know what was -passing in Nora's mind nor see her face as she gazed -into the fire. He might then have wished that his -letter, with its bold self-confidence, had never been -written. For the glow upon the young features was -not all fire-shine, the starlight in the dreamy eyes -not all reflected gleams from the burning logs upon -the hearth. Both had their birth within, where the -greatest of all human happiness had been kindled—but -not by Arnold's hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus half an hour, and then an hour, slipped past. -Lulled by her thoughts and the absolute quiet about -her, Nora sank into a doze. The firelight faded into -the distance, and half-dreaming, half-waking, she -drifted into a chaotic world of fancies and realities. -She dreamed at last that some one called her by -name. She did not answer, and the call grew louder, -more persistent. It seemed to drag her against her -will back to full sensibility, and with a violent start -Nora's eyes opened, and she knew that the voice had -not been part of her dreams, but that Hildegarde -was calling her with monotonous reiteration.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora! Nora!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I am here. What is it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora drew softly to the bedside and took the -outstretched hand in hers. It burnt, as though the -feverish sparkle in the wide-opened eyes was but a -signal of an inner devouring fire, and there was -something, too, in the feeble smile which hurt Nora by -reason of its very piteousness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I ought not to have disturbed you," Hildegarde -said in a dry whisper. "It was selfish of me, but you -looked so happy that I thought you could spare me -a moment. I have been so frightened."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Frightened, dear? Of what?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not know—of myself, I think."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She turned her fair head restlessly on the pillow, -as though seeking to retrace some thought, and then -once more she lifted her eyes to Nora. They seemed -unnaturally large in the half-darkness, and their -expression strangely penetrating. Nevertheless, when -she spoke again Nora felt that they sought rather to -convey a message than to question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora, you will laugh at me—I want to know, -have I been talking—in my sleep, I mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am glad." Again the same half-pleading, -half-frightened smile played about the colourless lips. -"I have been having such mad dreams—not bad -dreams—only so—so untrue, so unreal. I should -not have liked you to know them. You might have -thought——" She stopped, and her clasp tightened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know how I love you, don't you, Nora?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I think so—more than I deserve."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not as much, but still, very dearly. That was -what I wanted to tell you. It seems foolish—in the -middle of the night like this; but I was so afraid you -would not understand. You do, though, don't you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course." Nora spoke soothingly, but with a -dim knowledge that she had not wholly understood. -There was, indeed, a message in those broken -sentences, but one to which she had no key.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have been good to me," Hildegarde went on -rapidly. "Though you possess all that makes life -worth living, you have not jarred on me with your -wealth. You have not tried to comfort me with the -truism that there are others more suffering than -I—such a poor sort of comfort, isn't it? As though it -made me happy to think that more suffering was -possible—inevitable! When I am ill, I like to think -that I am the exception—that the great law of life is -happiness. And you are life and happiness personified, -Nora, and so I love you. I love you so that I grudge -you nothing—shall never grudge you anything. That -is—what—I want—you to understand!" The last -words came like a sigh, and there was a long silence. -The earnest eyes had closed, and she seemed to sleep. -Nora knelt down by the bedside, still holding the thin -white hand between her own, and so remained until, -overcome by weariness, her head sank on to the -coverlet. Half an hour passed, and then suddenly a -rough movement startled her from her dreams. Again -she heard her name called, this time desperately, -wildly, as though the caller stood at the brink of some -hideous chasm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora! Nora!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora made no answer. She stumbled to her feet -and stood half-paralysed, looking at the features -which in an instant had undergone so terrible a change. -Hildegarde sat bolt upright. Her hair was disordered, -her eyes, gleaming out of the ashy face, were fixed -on the darkness behind Nora with a terrible entreaty -in their depths.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora! Nora! what have you done?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora recovered herself with an effort. Usually -strong of nerve, there was something in the voice, in -the words, which terrified her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hildegarde, what do you mean? What is the matter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Nora, Nora, what have you done?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The voice had sunk to a moan so piteous, so wretched, -that Nora forgot the cold fear which for a moment -held her paralysed. She tried to press the frail figure -gently back among the pillows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear, I don't know what you mean. But you -must lie quiet. To-morrow you can tell me -everything——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hildegarde pushed her back and put her hand -wildly to her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course, you can't help it. You don't even -know. How should you? A cripple—you would -never even think of it. Nobody would—they would -laugh at me or pity me. Wolff pities me now—but -not then. Oh, Wolff! Wolff!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The name burst from the dry lips in a low cry of -pain. Hitherto she had spoken in English; she -went on in German, but so clearly and with such vivid -meaning in tone and gesture that Nora, cowering at -the foot of the bed, felt that she would have -understood had it been in some dead, unknown language.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff, how good you are to me! Shall we gallop -over there to the bridge? How splendid it is to be -alive, isn't it? Yes, of course I shall keep the supper -waltz for you, if you really want it. We always have -such fun together. Look! There is the Kaiser on -the brown horse! And Wolff is leading the battery -with Seleneck! How splendid he looks! Oh, Wolff! -Wolff!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again the old cry, vibrating with all the unspoken -love and pride and happiness which the short, -disjointed sentences had but indicated! They had -painted for the dazed, heart-stricken listener vivid -pictures from the past—the long, joyous gallops over -the open country, the brilliant ballroom, the parade, -all the laughter, the music, the lights, and chivalresque -clash of arms—but in that one name a life had been -revealed, the inner life of a girl ripening to a pure -and loving woman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The tears burned Nora's eyes. Every word that -fell from the delirious lips struck a deeper, more fatal -blow at her own happiness, yet she could not have fled, -could not have stopped her ears against their message.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must work hard, Wolff," the voice went on, -sunk to a sudden gentleness. "Perhaps one day you -will do something wonderful—something that will help -to make us the greatest country in the world. How -proud we shall be of you! I am proud already! -Steady, Bruno! How wild you are this morning! -One last gallop! Oh, Wolff, don't look like that! -It is nothing—nothing at all! Only my back hurts. -Am I not too heavy? You are so strong." And -then, with a smothered exclamation of anguish: -"Wolff, the doctor says I shall never ride again!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A long, unbroken silence. The young, suffering -face had grown grey and pinched. There were lines -about the mouth which made it look like that of an -old woman. A log fell with a crash into the fireplace. -The voice went on, toneless, expressionless:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How the light shines on her face! She is so -pretty, and she can walk and ride. She is not half -dead, like I am. No wonder he stands and watches -her! Wolff, why do you stand there? Why do you -look like that? Won't you come and sit by me? -No, no, why should you? It is better so. You play -well together. </span><em class="italics">Tristan und Isolde</em><span>—I wonder if it is -Fate. They have gone out riding. I am glad. I -wished it. When one is a cripple one must conquer -oneself. I can see them riding through the park -gates. They look splendid together—so handsome -and young and strong. Now they are galloping. -Oh, my God, my God! Nora, what are you doing? -Something has happened! Oh, Wolff, Wolff! I -know—I know you love her!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The voice, which had risen from note to note as -though urged by some frightful inner tumult of fear, -now sank to silence. Hildegarde fell back among the -pillows. With that final tragic recognition her mind -seemed once more to be shrouded in oblivion. The -look of agony passed from her features. She was -young again, young and beautiful and at peace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora stumbled. She would have fallen at the -bedside had not a hand, seeming to stretch out of the -darkness, caught her and held her. It was Frau von -Arnim. How long she had been there Nora could -not tell. She felt herself being drawn gently but -firmly away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go to your room, Nora. Lie down and sleep. I -should never have left you. Poor child!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the midst of her grief the tones of deep, generous -pity awoke in Nora's heart a strange awe and wonder. -She did not dare meet Frau von Arnim's eyes. It -was as though she knew she would see there a tragedy -greater than her own, a pain too sacred for words of -comfort. She crept from the room, leaving mother -and daughter alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora, Nora, what have you done?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The words followed her; they rang in her ears as -she flung herself down by her table, burying her face -in her arms in a passion of despair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What have I done?" she asked again and again. -And all that was generous and chivalrous in her -answered:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She loved you, and you have stolen her one -happiness from her. You are a thief. You have -done the cruellest, meanest thing of your life."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Justice protested:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How could you have known? You did not -even know that </span><em class="italics">you</em><span> loved, or were loved—not till -this morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the memory of that morning, that short-lived -happiness already crumbled and in ruins, swept over -her and bore down the last barriers of her self-control. -Poor Nora! She sobbed as only youth can sob face -to face with its first great grief, desperately, -unrestrainedly, believing that for her at least life and -hope were at an end. Another less passionate, less -governed by emotion would have reasoned, "It is not -your fault. You need not suffer!" Nora only saw -that, wittingly or unwittingly, she had helped to -heap sorrow upon sorrow for a being who had shown -her only kindness and love. She had brought fresh -misfortune where she should have brought consolation; -she had dared to love where she had no right to love; -she had kindled a love in return which could only -mean pain—perhaps worse—to those who had given -her their whole trust and affection. She had done -wrong, and for her there was only one -punishment—atonement by renunciation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The grey winter dawn crept into the little bedroom, -and Nora still sat at her table. She was no longer -crying. Her eyes were wide open and tearless. Only -an occasional shudder, a rough, uneven sigh, told of -the storm that had passed over her. As the light -grew stronger she took up a crumpled letter and read -it through, very slowly, as though each word cost -her an effort. When she had finished she copied an -address on to an envelope and began to write to Robert -Arnold. Her hand shook so that she had to tear -up the first sheet and begin afresh, and even then the -words were scarcely legible. Once her courage almost -failed her, but she pulled herself back to her task -with a pathetic tightening of the lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know now that I do not love you," she wrote. -"I know, because I have been taught what love really -is; but if you will take me with the little I have to -give, I will be your wife."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And with that she believed that she had raised an -insurmountable barrier between herself and the love -which fate had made sinful.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="youth-and-the-barrier"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER X</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">YOUTH AND THE BARRIER</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was Hildegarde's birthday. The November -sunshine had come out to do her honour, and in every -corner of her room rich masses of winter flowers -rejoiced in the cold brightness which flooded in through -the open window. Hildegarde herself lay on the -sofa, where the light fell strongest. The two long -weeks in which she had hung between life and death -had wrought curiously little change in her, and what -change there was lay rather in her expression than -in her features. Her cheeks were colourless, but she -had always been pale, and the ethereal delicacy which -had become a very part of herself, and which seemed -to surround her with an atmosphere of peaceful -sanctity, was more spiritual than physical. Nora, -who stood beside her, watching the sunlight as it made -a halo of the fair hair, could not think of her as a -suffering human being. It was surely a spirit that -lay there, with the bunch of violets clasped in the -white hands—a spirit far removed from all earthly -conflict, upheld by some inner strength and softened -by a grave, serene wisdom. And yet, Nora knew, it -was only an heroic "seeming." She knew what -pictures passed before the quiet eyes, what emotions -lay hidden in the steady-beating heart, what pain -the gentle lips held back from utterance. Admiration, -pity, and love struggled in Nora's soul with the -realisation of her own loss and the total ruin of her own -happiness. "But I have done right," she repeated -to herself, with a kind of desperate defiance, "and -one day, if you are happy, it will be because I also -brought my sacrifice in silence." It was her one -consolation—a childish one enough, perhaps—the -conviction that she had done right. It was the one thing -which upheld her when she thought of the letter -speeding to its destination and of the fate she had -chosen for herself. But it had not prevented the -change with which grief and struggle mark the faces -of the youngest and the bravest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Down below in the street the two quiet listeners -heard the tramp of marching feet which stopped -beneath their window, and presently a knock at the -door heralded a strange apparition. A burly under-officer -in full dress stood saluting on the threshold.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The regiment brings </span><em class="italics">Gnädiges Fräulein</em><span> its best -wishes for her birthday," he thundered, as though a -dozen luckless recruits stood before him. "The -regiment wishes </span><em class="italics">Gnädiges Fräulein</em><span> health and happiness, -and hopes that she will approve of the selection -which has been made." He advanced with jingling -spurs and held out a sheet of paper, which Hildegarde -accepted with a gentle smile of thanks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is a nice programme, isn't it?" she said, as -she handed the list to Nora. "All my favourites."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was the Herr Hauptmann who told us what -</span><em class="italics">Gnädiges Fräulein</em><span> liked," the gruff soldier said, still -in an attitude of rigid military correctness. "The -Herr Hauptmann will be here himself before long. -He commanded me to tell </span><em class="italics">Gnädiges Fräulein</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, Huber—and thank the regiment for -its good wishes. Afterwards—when the concert is -over—well, you know what is waiting for you and your -men in the kitchen."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He bowed stiffly over her extended hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Danke, Gnädiges Fräulein</em><span>." He strode back to -the door, and then turned and hesitated, his -weather-beaten face a shade redder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The regiment will lose the Herr Hauptmann -soon," he said abruptly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Huber. And then what will you do?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go too, </span><em class="italics">Gnädiges Fräulein</em><span>. I have served my -country many years, and when the Herr Hauptmann -leaves the regiment I have had enough. One gets -old and stiff, and the time comes when one must -take off the helmet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is true, Huber."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Still he hesitated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And </span><em class="italics">Gnädiges Fräulein</em><span>——?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I, Huber?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Gnädiges Fräulein</em><span> will go with the Herr Hauptmann?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A deep wave of colour mounted the pale cheeks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is possible we may go to Berlin for a few -months."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Ja</em><span>, </span><em class="italics">ja</em><span>, for a few months!" He laughed, and -his laugh was like the rumble of distant thunder. -"It is well, </span><em class="italics">Gnädiges Fräulein</em><span>; it is well." Then -suddenly he stiffened, growled an "</span><em class="italics">Empfehle mich -gehorsamst</em><span>," and was gone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hildegarde bowed her head over the violets and -there was a long silence. Then she too laughed so -naturally and gaily that Nora forgot herself and -looked at her in wondering surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is such a strange old fellow," Hildegarde -explained. "Wolff calls him his nurse. Once in -the manoeuvres he saved Wolff's life, and ever since -then he has attached himself to the family, and looks -upon us all more or less as his children. He is never -disrespectful, and so we allow him his little -idiosyncrasies. One of his pet ideas is that Wolff should -marry me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora repressed a start. What strange thing was -this that Hildegarde should speak so lightly, so -carelessly, of the tragic loss overshadowing both their -lives?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think it would quite break his heart if we -disappointed him," Hildegarde added quietly. "Is it -not amusing?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Amusing?" Nora's hand gripped the back of -the sofa. "I do not see why it should be amusing—it -is natural. Of course"—she struggled to overcome -the roughness in her voice—"every one sees how -much your—your cousin cares for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again the same easy laugh answered her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, Nora, you are as bad as our military -matchmaker! Of course, Wolff is fond of me just as I -am of him. We are like brother and sister; but -marriage—that is quite another matter. I am afraid -I could never bring myself to marry a man whose -heart-affairs I have known ever since he was an absurd -little cadet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora pushed the hair from her forehead. She felt -as though the ground had suddenly been torn from -under her feet. Every resolution, every principle, -the very spirit of sacrifice to which she had clung, -had been shaken by those few simple words. Had -she dreamed, then, that night when delirium had -broken open the innermost sanctuary of Hildegarde's -heart? Had it all been a wild fancy, and was this -the truth? Or—— She looked full into the face -raised to hers. There was a quiet merriment in the -steady eyes—a merriment which yielded gradually -to concern, but there was no sign of pain, no trace of -struggle. It was impossible to believe that those -eyes held their secret, or that the smiling lips had -once uttered a cry of the greatest human agony. -Yes, it was impossible, and if impossible, why, -then—— Nora could think no further. She turned and walked -mechanically to the window. The military band -had begun the wedding-march out of </span><em class="italics">Lohengrin</em><span>, but -for her it was no more than a confused sound beating -against her brains. She heard the house-gate click, -and saw a well-known figure slowly mount the steps, -but she could not rouse herself to speak or think. -She stood stunned and helpless, knowing nothing of -the pitying eyes that watched her. In those moments -a faint change had come over Hildegarde von Arnim's -features. The smile had died, and in its place had -come a grave peace—a peace such as is given sometimes -with renunciation. Then her eyes closed and she -seemed to sleep, but her hands held fast to the purple -violets, and the sunlight falling upon the quiet face -revealed a line that is also renunciation's heritage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile Wolff von Arnim had entered the state -drawing-room, whither the little housemaid, -overwhelmed by the plumes and glittering epaulettes, -had considered fit to conduct him. It was the one -spot in the whole house which Frau von Arnim had -not been able to stamp with her own grace and elegance. -The very chairs seemed to have entered into a -conspiracy to appear stiff, and stood in comfortless -symmetrical order, and the fire smouldering upon the -hearth could do nothing against the chill atmosphere -of an unloved and seldom inhabited dwelling-room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnim went straight to the window. It was as -though his surroundings pressed upon him with an -intolerable burden, and he remained staring sightlessly -out into the grey morning until the quiet opening -of a door told him that he was no longer alone. Even -then he did not at once turn. Only the slight -convulsive tightening of the hand upon the sword-hilt -betrayed that he had heard, and Frau von Arnim had -almost reached his side before he swung round to -greet her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aunt Magda!" he exclaimed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She gave him her hand, and he bent over it—remained -so long with his head bowed that it seemed -a conscious prolongation of the time before their -eyes must meet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hardly expected you this afternoon," she said -gently, "certainly not in such </span><em class="italics">grande tenue</em><span>. Are -you on special duty?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did not answer at once. He stood looking at -her with a curiously absent expression.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I came to ask after Hildegarde," he said. "Is -she better?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, much better—still very weak, of course. A -fever like that is not quickly forgotten."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had slipped her arm through his and led him -to the sofa before the fire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The violets you sent are most beautiful," she -went on. "They gave Hildegarde so much pleasure. -She asked me to thank you for them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He sat down beside her and for a moment was silent, -gazing into the fire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aunt Magda," he then began abruptly, "you -have never told me what it was that caused Hildegarde's -illness—nor even what was the matter with -her. I—I want to know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A faint, rather weary smile passed over Frau von -Arnim's lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Illness with Hildegarde is never far off, </span><em class="italics">lieber -Junge</em><span>," she said. "She is like an ungarrisoned -castle exposed to the attack of every enemy. The -least thing—something which leaves you and me -unharmed—throws her off her balance no one knows -how or why."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And she was once so strong!" he said, half to -himself. "Nothing could tire her, and she was -never ill—never."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff, there is no good in remembering what was -and can never be again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Never?" he queried.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not so far as we can see."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His strongly marked brows knitted themselves in pain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Would to God it had all happened to me!" he -broke out impulsively. "Then it would not have -been so bad."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It would have been much worse," Frau von -Arnim answered. "Women suffer better than men, -Wolff. It is one of their talents. After a time, -Hildegarde will find consolation where you would -only have found bitterness."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"After a time!" he repeated. "Then she is not -happy? Poor Hildegarde!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Even women cannot learn patience and resignation -in a day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He sprang up as though inactivity had become -unbearable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aunt Magda—if she is strong enough—I want to -see Hildegarde."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Involuntarily their eyes met in a quick flash of -understanding.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because I think that it is time for our relationship -to each other to be clearly settled," he said. "Ever -since our childhood it has been an unwritten -understanding that if Hildegarde would have me we should -marry; and so I have come to ask her—if she will -be my wife."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He spoke bluntly, coldly, not as he had meant to -speak, but the steady gaze on his face shook his -composure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you the right to ask her that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aunt Magda!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Or, after all, have you been playing with the -affections of a girl who has the right to my protection?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aunt Magda—that is not true—that——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stopped short, pale with agitation, his lips close -compressed on the hot words of self-vindication.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a minute Frau von Arnim waited as though -giving him time to speak, and then she went on quietly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff, we Arnims are not fond of charity. We -prefer to eat out our hearts in silence rather than be -objects of the world's pity. And Hildegarde is like -the rest of us. She will not ask for your sympathy -nor your care nor your devotion. She will ask you -for your whole heart. Can you give her that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He made a gesture as though about to give a hasty -answer, but her eyes stopped him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I—love Hildegarde," he stammered. "We have -been friends all our lives."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Friends, Wolff! I said 'your whole heart.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then he saw that she knew; and suddenly -the tall, broad-shouldered man dropped down, sword-clattering, -at her side and buried his face in his hands. -The smile in Frau von Arnim's eyes deepened. So he -had done in the earlier days when youthful scrapes -and disappointments had sent the usually proud, -reserved boy to the one unfailing source of -understanding and consolation. Very gently she rested -her hand upon his shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall you never grow up, Wolff?" she said -with tender mockery. "Shall you always be a big -schoolboy, with the one difference that you have -grown conceited and believe that you can hide behind -a full-dress uniform and a gruff military voice—even -from my eyes?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He lifted his flushed, troubled face to hers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know—everything?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Everything, </span><em class="italics">lieber Junge</em><span>. Hildegarde knows, -Johann knows, the cook knows. I should not be -surprised if the very sparrows make it a subject of -their chattering. And you can go about with that -stern face and mysterious, close-shut mouth and -think you have deceived us all! Oh, Wolff, Wolff!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are laughing at me," he said. "God knows -I am in deadly earnest."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She took his hand between her own.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If I laugh at you it is because I must," she said; -"because it is the only thing to do. There are some -forms of quixotic madness which it is dangerous to -take seriously, and this is one of them. Wolff, you -have tortured yourself with an uncalled-for remorse -until you are ready to throw your own life and the -lives of others into a huge catastrophe. In all this, -have you thought what it might mean to Nora?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He started, and the colour ebbed out of his face, -leaving it curiously pale and haggard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think of her day and night," he said hoarsely. -"I pray God that she does not know—that I shall -pass out of her life and leave no trace behind me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You believe that that is possible? You deceive -yourself so well? You pretend you do not love -Nora, and you do not know that she loves you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That I love her? Yes, I know that," he -confessed desperately. "But that she loves me—how -should I know?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Any one would know—you must know." She -put both her hands on his shoulders and looked him -firmly in the face. "Wolff, if you were honest you -would admit it. You would see that you have acted -cruelly—without intention, but still cruelly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then if I have been cruel, I have been most cruel -against myself," he answered. "But I meant to do -what was right—I meant to act honestly. It is true -when I say I love Hildegarde. I do love her—not -perhaps as a man should love his wife, but enough, -and I had sworn that I would make her happy, that -I would compensate her for all that she has lost. -I swore that to myself months ago—before Nora -came. When Nora came, Aunt Magda"—his voice -grew rough—"there are some things over which -one has no power, no control. It was all done in a -minute. If I had been honest, I should have gone -away, but it would have been too late. And as it -was I deceived myself with a dozen lies. I stayed on -and saw her daily, and the thing grew until that -morning when Bruno bolted. I lost my head then. When -it was all over I could not lie and humbug any more. -I had to face the truth. It was then Hildegarde fell -ill. I felt it as a sort of judgment."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He spoke in short, jerky sentences, his face set and -grey with the memory of a past struggle. He sprang -to his feet and stood erect at Frau von Arnim's side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whatever else I am, I am not consciously a cad," -he said. "What I had done wrong I was determined -to put right at all costs. I loved Hildegarde, and -I had dedicated my life to her happiness. Nothing -and no one must turn me from my purpose. That is -why I am here this morning." He made an impatient -gesture. "I have been a fool. You have seen -through me—you have made me tell you what torture -would not have dragged out of me. But that can -alter nothing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment Frau von Arnim watched his stern, -half-averted face in silence. Then she too rose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have a message for you from Hildegarde," she -said quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He started.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. Those who suffer have quick eyes, quicker -intuitions. She saw this coming, and she asked -me to tell you—should it come—that she loved you -too much to accept a useless sacrifice. For it would -have been useless, Wolff. You deceive yourself -doubly if you believe you could have made Hildegarde -happy. Yes, if you had brought your whole heart—then, -perhaps; but it is almost an insult to have -supposed that she would have been satisfied with -less. Since her illness she has told me everything, -and we have talked it over, and this is our answer -to you: Take the woman you love; be happy, and be -to us what you always were. In any other form we -will have nothing to do with you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was smiling again, but Arnim turned away -from the outstretched hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is awful!" he said roughly. "I cannot do -it—I cannot!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must, Wolff. Let time pass over it if you -will, but in the end you must yield. You dare not -trample on your own happiness, on Nora's, on -Hildegarde's—yes, Hildegarde's," she repeated emphatically. -"In the end she will find happiness in her own -renunciation. She loves you both, and the first -bitterness is already past. And why wait? There -may be struggles enough before you both, though I -shall do my best to help you. Go to Nora and make -her happy. Believe me, </span><em class="italics">lieber Junge</em><span>, the heart-ache -has not been all on your side."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had taken her hands now and was kissing them -with a passionate, shame-faced gratitude.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You make me feel the lowest, meanest thing on -earth," he said. "And Hildegarde is an angel—far -too good for me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; that is the best way to put it," she said. -"Hildegarde is too good for you. And now perhaps -it would be wise for you to go in search of the woman -who is your equal."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not now," he said. "I could not. I must be -alone a little. It has all happened so suddenly. My -whole life and future has changed in a minute."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do as you think best, dear Wolff. But do not -wait long."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He pressed her hand again in farewell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You love Nora?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; otherwise I would not have let things drift. -There are many barriers between you—race and -language are not the least—and we had thought of a -match—since Hildegarde's illness—more, perhaps, in -accordance with our family traditions. But Nora is -a dear, sweet child, and, I believe, will make you a -good wife. At any rate, I shall do all I can to smooth -your path, and Hildegarde and I will be happy to -welcome her as one of us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He smiled, half in gratitude, half in doubt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You seem very sure that she will have me," he -said. "Everybody does not think me such a fine -fellow as you do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Lieber Junge</em><span>, I am a woman, and when I see a -girl grow thin and pale without apparent cause—well, -I look for the cause. Nora has been very unhappy in -the last days. I suspect strongly she has been suffering -from your conflict, and no doubt looks upon her life -and happiness as ruined. That is why I tell you not -to wait too long."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was so much affection in her tone that the -faint mockery in her words left no sting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will not wait long, I promise you," Wolff said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the door he turned and looked back at her. It -was almost as though he had meant to surprise her -into a betrayal of some hidden feeling; but Frau von -Arnim had not moved, nor was there any change in -the grave face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell Hildegarde that I shall never forget," he -said earnestly, "that I owe her my happiness, and -that I thank her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall give her your message," Frau von Arnim -answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The fate that arranges the insignificant, all-important -chances of our lives ordained that at the same -moment when Wolff von Arnim passed out of the -drawing-room Nora Ingestre came down the stairs. -She held an open telegram in her hand, and the light -from the hall window fell on a face white with grief -and fear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnim strode to meet her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it?" he demanded. "What has happened?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My mother is very ill," she answered faintly. -"They have sent for me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had descended the last step. The next instant -Wolff von Arnim was at her side, and had taken her -in his arms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Mein Liebling!</em><span>" he whispered. "</span><em class="italics">Mein armes Liebling!</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She yielded, overwhelmed by the swiftness of his -action, by her own wild heart-throb of uncontrollable -joy. Then she tried to free herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must not!" she cried. "It is not right!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My wife!" he retorted triumphantly. "My wife!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked up into his face. At no time had he -been dearer to her, seemed more worthy of her whole -love, than he did then, with his own joy subdued by -an infinite tenderness and pity. But the name "wife" -had rung like a trumpet-call, reminding and threatening -even as it tempted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Wolff!" she said, "you must let me go. -It is not possible—you do not understand. I——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was going to tell him of the barrier she had -raised with her own hands, of the letter that was on -its way. She was going to say to him, "I am not -free. My word is given to another. Seek your -happiness where it awaits you." In some such words -she meant to shatter her own life and lay the first -stones of the atonement to the girl whose happiness -she had stolen. Or, after all, had it been no theft? -Was it not possible that she had been deceived? And -even if it were true, had it not been said, "A useless -sacrifice is no sacrifice at all"? Had she not a right -to her happiness? And Wolff was speaking, and it -seemed to her that his joy and triumph answered her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing can come between us and our love!" -he said. "Nothing and no one! Oh, Nora, </span><em class="italics">ich habe -dich so endlos lieb</em><span>!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The barrier, the letter, Hildegarde, every heroic -resolution was forgotten, swept away by the man's -passion and her own exulting love. Nora leant her -head against the dark-blue coat in reckless, thankful -surrender.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Ich habe dich so endlos lieb!</em><span>" he repeated. -"</span><em class="italics">Kannst du mich auch lieb haben?</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And she answered fearlessly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I love you!" and kissed him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Such was Nora Ingestre's brief courtship and -betrothal.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="wolff-makes-his-debut-in-delford"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">WOLFF MAKES HIS DEBUT IN DELFORD</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The family Ingestre was once more united. As far -as could be judged from appearances, the union was -a complete one. Domestic peace and prosperity -seemed to hover like benignant spirits over the tableau -which concluded the day's round. Mrs. Ingestre lay -as usual on her couch beneath the light of the tall -red-shaded lamp, her husband was seated at the -table, poring over a volume of the latest dogma, -whilst his son, still suffering from the results of a -nervous breakdown (attributed to overwork), reclined -in the most comfortable arm-chair by the fireside, -and imbibed military wisdom from a London daily. -If there was any note of discord in this harmony, it -came from Nora. She stood opposite her brother, -with her elbow resting on the mantelpiece, and the -firelight betrayed a warning flash in the wide-open -eyes and a tense line about the mouth which boded -not altogether well for peace. Her father had glanced -once or twice over his spectacles in her direction, but -had seemed satisfied. On the whole, she had taken -her abrupt and alarming recall with surprising docility -and had accepted the obvious exaggeration of the -Rev. John's report concerning her mother without -resentment. Mrs. Ingestre had been ill, but then -she was always more or less ill, and the degree more -had scarcely justified the good gentleman's excited -telegram. Were the truth admitted, he had been -glad to seize upon an excuse to withdraw Nora from -the "pernicious influence" of her foreign surroundings, -and the strain of copying his sermons and attending -to his own affairs generally had given the casting -vote. As it has been said, Nora's docility had been -as agreeable as it was surprising, and he attributed -it to causes very satisfactory to himself. It was -obvious, as he had explained triumphantly to Mrs. Ingestre, -that Nora had had a bitter lesson "amongst -these foreigners," and was only too glad to be home. -Hitherto Nora had allowed him to cherish this -delusion—hence the undisturbed peace in the family -circle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The French clock on the mantelpiece struck nine. -Nora started and looked up, as though she had been -waiting for the sound. Then she turned and stood -with her back to the fire, her hands clasped behind -her, her head held resolutely. "Father and mother," -she began, "I have something important to tell you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Rev. John turned over a page before considering -the speaker. The formality of the address and Nora's -general attitude would have startled him if he had -been any judge of outward and visible signs, but he -was one of those men who only see what they have -made up their mind to see, and just at that moment -he was determined to look upon Nora in something of -the light of a returned and repentant prodigal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, my dear," he asked indulgently, "what is it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I want to tell you"—Nora took a deep breath—"that -I am engaged to be married."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Rev. John removed his spectacles.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To whom?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To Captain von Arnim."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a full minute her father said nothing. Miles -sat up as though a bomb had exploded in his close -proximity. Only Mrs. Ingestre remained unmoved. -She was watching her daughter with grave, thoughtful -eyes, but there was an unmistakable, half-whimsical, -half-pitying smile about her mouth. The Rev. John -passed his hand over his head, thereby ruffling a thin -wisp of hair, which, usually decorously smoothed over -a wide surface, now stood on end in a fashion wholly -inconsistent with the seriousness of the moment. -But of this he was fortunately ignorant. To do him -justice, his agitation was unfeigned. The blow had -demoralised him, and to cover the momentary mental -paralysis he took refuge in an obstinate refusal to -understand what had been said to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear," he began amiably, "you mentioned -that some one was going to be married—I did not -catch the names. Would you mind repeating——?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I said that Captain von Arnim has asked me to -be his wife," Nora answered steadily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The impertinence of the fellow!" Miles had by -this time recovered his self-possession sufficiently to -speak. "I hope you sent him to the right-about?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I kissed him," Nora explained, with a gleam of -humour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There was no reason why I shouldn't. He is to -be my husband."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles swore under his breath. The Rev. John rose -with what would have been dignity but for his ruffled -hair-dress.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora—you—you—are talking nonsense," he jerked -out. "I cannot believe that you know what you -are saying. A—a—foreigner—a—a man of whom I -know nothing!——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will get to know him in time," Nora put in -hastily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do not interrupt me. I am grieved—shocked -beyond words. I can only suppose that you have -been led astray—eh—blinded by the glamour of a -uniform. It is terrible. This is the reward of my -weakness. Have I not always seen this coming?"—(here -the reverend gentleman exaggerated, since the -gift of prophecy had not been granted him)—"have -I not always protested against your absence? But -I at least supposed that—that Frau von Arnim was -a woman who could be trusted—who would protect -you from the—eh—attentions of a——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Frau von Arnim is the best woman I have ever -met, except mother," Nora broke in again. "As to -Wolff——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff!" Miles laughed loudly. "Just think of -it, people! 'Wolff' for my brother-in-law! A -German bounder in the family! Many thanks!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a moment's electric silence. The -Rev. John had by this time recovered his professional -eloquence, and was preparing to settle down to the -work of exhortation with a zest. It was perhaps -fortunate that Nora's face was turned away, otherwise -he might have found less pleasure in listening to his -own rounded periods.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miles puts the matter a trifle pointedly," he -began, "but, on the whole, he expresses my own views. -For many reasons I strongly disapprove of an English -girl marrying out of her people, and as you are too -young and inexperienced to appreciate those reasons, -you must submit to my simple authority. I must, -dear child, absolutely refuse my consent to this -premature and regrettable engagement. I have no doubt -that Frau von Arnim will see for herself that in her -anxiety to effect an advantageous alliance for her -nephew she has been over-hasty—I must say, -inexcusably hasty, in giving her sanction."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank goodness </span><em class="italics">that</em><span> is knocked on the head!" -Miles said, rising triumphantly to his feet. "I swear -to you, the bare possibility makes me feel positively -faint. We all know what German officers are -like—bullying drinkers and gamblers——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora turned and looked at him. There was something -very like hatred in her dangerously bright eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I forbid you to speak like that of a class to which -my future husband belongs!" she said. "Besides -what you said being nonsense, it is also cowardly to -attack where no chance is given to defend. As to -my engagement"—she turned again to her father, -and her voice grew calm and firm—"whether you -give your consent or not makes no real difference. -In a short time I shall be of age, and then I shall -marry Wolff. We can afford to wait, if it must be."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora!" The Rev. John recovered his breath -with difficulty. "How can you—how dare you speak -to me like that? Have you forgotten that I am -your father—that——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have not forgotten anything," Nora interrupted, -in the same steady accents, "but it would be -hypocritical of me to pretend a submission which I do not -feel and which I should consider disloyal. Hitherto -my duty has been towards you—it is now due to the -man whom I love above every other earthly -consideration. It does not matter in the least to me -that Wolff is a foreigner. If he were a Hottentot it -would make no difference."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Neither the Rev. John nor his son found any -immediate answer. They looked at the proud, -determined face, and perhaps in various degrees of -distinctness each realised that Nora the child was a -creature of the past, and that this was a woman -who stood before them, armed and invulnerable in -the strength of her awakened passion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Rev. John, completely thrown out of his concept -by this unexpected revelation, looked at his wife -with the weak appeal of a blusterer who suddenly -discovers that he has blustered in vain. Mrs. Ingestre -saw the look—possibly she had been waiting for it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think that, if all Nora says is true, we have no -right to interfere," she said quietly, "and the best -thing we can do is to ask Captain von Arnim to come -and see us. What do you say, Nora?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora's whole face lit up, but she said nothing, -only looked at her father and waited. Had she -burst out into a storm of girlish delight and gratitude, -the Rev. John might have plucked up courage and -held his ground, but that steady self-repression -indicated a strength of purpose of which he himself -was incapable. He shrugged his shoulders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Since my authority is denied in my own house, -there is no object in appealing to me," he said peevishly. -"Do what you like—only, in the future remember -that I warned you. You have taken your life into -your own hands, Nora. I can no longer hold myself -responsible."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All I beg is that I shall be allowed to keep out of -the way when the beggar comes here," Miles said, as -he followed his indignant parent out of the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The moment the door had closed Nora left her place -of defence by the fire and came to Mrs. Ingestre's -side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know you are wondering why I did not tell -you before, mother," she said rapidly and clearly. -"It was because I did not want to drag you into it -more than I could help. I know what you have to -bear when father thinks you are 'abetting' me. I -wanted to fight my battle alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I suppose you think you have won, Nora?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I think so. Father can do nothing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was not thinking of that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora looked down into the pale face and wondered -at the pity which mingled with the tenderness of its -expression.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of what were you thinking, mother?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Ingestre sighed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you so sure of yourself, little girl?" she -asked gently. "Is your love really above every earthly -consideration? Can you give up your home, your -country, your language, your ways, us—your people, -without a heart-ache? Do you realise that you are -bringing your love the greatest of all sacrifices?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother, it is a sacrifice Wolff will never ask of me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Life will ask it of you—not even Wolff can alter -the laws of life. The day may come when Circumstance -will say to you that you must choose. And what -then?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora was silent. Then she lifted her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then, mother, I should have to choose. It is -true—my love is strongest in me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Ingestre sank back among her pillows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"God help you, dear!" she said under her breath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora waited a moment. There was something -more that she had to tell—the story of a letter written -in a fervour of self-sacrifice, and of another letter -written two weeks later, a pitiful letter containing -a confession and a plea for forgiveness. But she -recognised the signs of exhaustion, and crept softly -back to the fire. After all, it would do another day. -Another day! That most pitiful of all excuses had -haunted her from the moment that she had felt Wolff -von Arnim's arms about her, and she was honest -enough to despise it and herself. But she was afraid. -She was convinced that Wolff would not understand -either her old friendship with Robert Arnold or her -subsequent folly in accepting a man she did not love. -Nor could she explain, for the one explanation possible -was the sacred secret of Hildegarde's heart. She was -equally convinced that her mother would disapprove -of her silence and demand that she should deal honestly -with the man she was to marry. She knew that her -mother would be right, and indeed she meant to tell -the truth—but not now. The new happiness was -too insecure. And then, the episode, foolish and -even disloyal as it had been, was closed and done -with. Robert Arnold had obviously accepted her -final acknowledgment of the truth, and had silently -gone his way. He had not answered either letter, -and probably they would not meet again, or, at any -rate, not until the wound had healed and been -forgotten. Was it not wiser, therefore, to keep silence -also—for the present? Thus Nora argued with her -own conscience, and, torn between a natural rectitude -and a headstrong love, came to no conclusion, but -let the matter drift until that well-known "some -time" which, had she been wiser, she would have -recognised as an equivalent for "never."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But at least the great battle for her liberty had -been fought and won. An invitation was promptly -sent to Karlsburg and as promptly accepted, and the -day dawned which was to see Wolff's triumphal entry -into the enemy's stronghold. Even Miles, though -the permission to "keep out of the way" would -have been willingly granted him as far as Nora was -concerned, insisted on making his future brother-in-law's -arrival an excuse for returning on leave.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The sooner I get the blow over the better," he -said, and gratuitously undertook to accompany Nora -and her father to the station when the unloved guest -was expected.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were more people on the platform than was -usual at that time of the day. From one source and -another, Delford had got to know all about Nora's -engagement; and though, from the station-master's -"Well, I call it a real downright shame that a pretty -girl should throw herself away on one of them there -Proosians!" to Mrs. Clerk's "Dear me, how dreadful!" -the chorus of disapproval had been rung on -every possible change, still, a good many of the -disapprovers had found it necessary to be present at the -arrival of the London express. Nora herself noticed -nothing unusual. She was overwhelmed by a sense -of unreality which made the incidents of the last -months seem like pictures from a confused dream. -Everything had happened so swiftly. Love, despair, -and happiness had trodden on each other's heels; and -in the same moment that she had grasped her happiness -with both hands, she had been swept away, back into -the old surroundings where that happiness had no -place. And now that it was coming to her, seeking -her out, as it were, in the enemy's territory, she could -hardly be sure whether it were really true, whether -Wolff himself were not some dream-figure who had -won her in another and less everyday existence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the midst of her bewildered thoughts the express -steamed into the little station, and the next minute -Wolff had become a living, breathing reality, who -swept down upon her and kissed her, regardless of all -the Delfordites in the world. When he gave her time -and opportunity to look at him, she felt that he, too, -had undergone a change, and had taken on something -of his surroundings. She would hardly have -recognised him in the plain tweed suit and bowler hat. -Neither became him so well as his uniform—to tell -the truth, neither fitted him with any great exactitude, -and it was all too evident that the suit was -"ready-made." But the face, strong and tanned, flushed -now with his joy at seeing her, was the same. It -carried her memory back to that wonderful hour -when he had lifted her out of the deepest despair to -an intoxicating happiness, and she, too, forgot the -Delfordites and the disapproving glances of her -relations, and clung to him in a transport of delight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My little Nora!" he said, "the weeks have -been months!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not sure that they have not been years!" -she cried, laughing. And then she remembered her -father and brother, and hastened to perform the -ceremony of introduction. The three men shook -hands, the Rev. John with solemnity, Miles with a -covert sneer and a glance which took in every detail -of the newcomer's person. Either the solemnity or -the sneer worked depressingly on Wolff's spirits. He -grew suddenly quiet and grave, though his eyes, -when they met Nora's, flashed with a smothered -happiness which she read and understood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the drive home in the narrow confines of the -Delford brougham remained in Nora's memory as -one of the most painful in her experience. The -Rev. John persisted in his funereal solemnity, and talked -of the weather, the journey, and the crops, very -much as though he were trying to take their minds -off the unpleasant circumstances which had brought -them together. As to Miles, he sat in the far corner -with his hands in his pockets and stared out of the -window—when he was not staring the new-comer out -of countenance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Poor Nora! Never before had she greeted the -appearance of the monument and the ugly church -steeple with so much thankfulness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We are nearly there now," she said, looking up -into Wolff's face. "Mother has been so impatient -to see you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her eyes were full of a shamed, indignant apology, -to which Wolff's quiet smile seemed to answer:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do I care for them? I would carry you -off if there were forty of them, all forty times as -disagreeable!" And he pressed her hand defiantly -under the rugs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At length the vicarage was reached. The queer, -old-fashioned trunk was dragged down from its perch, -and five minutes later Wolff was standing in the -dimly lit drawing-room. Mrs. Ingestre had heard -their coming, and came slowly and painfully forward. -Her hands were outstretched, and Wolff took them, -gravely bowing, and kissed them. Nora saw a curious, -half-horrified expression pass over her father's face, -and Miles smothered a laugh. She felt in that moment -as though she could have killed them both, and then -fled with Wolff anywhere, so long as she could get -away from their stifling atmosphere of self-satisfaction -and petty prejudices.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her mother's voice was the first to break the silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear Wolff," Mrs. Ingestre said gently, "how -glad I am that you have really come at last!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The simple words, with their quietly emphasised -acceptance of him as a relation, acted like a balm on -poor Nora's wounded spirits. She saw, too, that -Wolff's face had relaxed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You make me very happy," he said. "I feel -for the first time that Nora and I really belong to -one another—since I have seen you, and you have -welcomed me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A strange sound came from the Rev. John's -direction, which might have been a cough or a groan of -disapproval. Mrs. Ingestre appeared to notice -nothing. She took Wolff's arm, and, leaning on him as -though for support, led him closer to the light.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must forgive me," she said. "Remember -that I am an old woman and that old women have -their cranks. One of mine is that I do not like to -be kept waiting. And I have been kept waiting so -long to see the face of this wonderful German that I -forgot that in all politeness I should be studying you -out of the corners of my eyes. Nora has of course -described you—but then, Nora is prejudiced."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this point the Rev. John's cough became consumptive -in its hollow persistency, and he was heard -to murmur something to the effect that Herr von -Arnim would no doubt like to be shown to his room. -Herr von Arnim appeared to be afflicted with deafness. -He looked down at Mrs. Ingestre, meeting her frank -inspection with steady, laughing eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not anything to look at—especially in these -clothes," he said naïvely. "I don't think even Nora -could have said that I was handsome. So you must -not judge by appearances. After a time you will -know what I really am, and I hope you will like me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If I can trust Nora's description I do that already," -Mrs. Ingestre answered, "but, more than Nora, more -than experience, I trust my own eyes. And I -think"—she paused, and the smile that crept about her -lips lit up her whole face, and made it almost young -and very beautiful—"I think I shall be happy to -give my Nora to you, Wolff."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The cough and its owner had departed in despair. -Miles, finding himself ignored, skulked sulkily in the -passage. Wolff bent and kissed the white, delicate -hand that still clasped his own.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thank you!" he said simply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This time there were neither exclamatory eyebrows -nor smothered giggles, and Nora, forgetting that -they had ever been, saw in Wolff's action the seal -and charter of her happiness.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="nora-forsakes-her-country"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">NORA FORSAKES HER COUNTRY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Nora believed in unalloyed happiness. Any one with -more experience would have known that unalloyed -happiness, as such, does not exist. The moment when -we feel ourselves supremely happy is the moment -when we are most exposed to the rude shocks of -fortune. We know it, and consequently our bliss is -immediately overshadowed with the knowledge of its -short duration.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Mrs. Ingestre and Wolff had stood together -hand in hand, as though in solemn compact of -friendship and affection, Nora's heart had filled to -overflowing; but already that same evening a dozen -trifles, a dozen pin-pricks, came to prove to her that -the storms and misadventures of the last weeks were -by no means at an end. Her father who, to do him -justice, never accused a fellow-creature until he was -proved guilty, was none the less on the lookout for -proofs of Wolff's unsuitability, and continued -distressed and grave. If at any time the conversation -became in the least animated, or showed a tendency -to the mildest form of hilarity, he was at once on -the spot with some painfully repressing commonplace. -It was as though he were constantly murmuring, -"Children, remember what has happened! This is -not an occasion for unseemly mirth!" and in spite -of all efforts the conversation drifted into a channel -which would have been considered unnecessarily -depressing at a funeral.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles aided and abetted his father after his own -fashion. His asides to Nora were marked by pungent -humour and sarcasm. Inquiries after Wolff's tailor, -and whether it was the fashion in Germany to wear -one's tie at "that angle," were varied with shocked -appeals that "that fellow might be told to put his -knife and fork together when he had finished eating, -and not leave it sprawling about his plate like a -yokel!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora never retorted. She felt the uselessness of -explaining that the Germans were different, but not -on that account worse; but she felt like an enraged -tigress who sees her cub attacked by brutal, clumsy -hands. She did not see that Wolff, unaccustomed to -such things, had struggled in vain with a refractory -evening tie, nor that the cut of his coat was scarcely -of the latest fashion. She saw first and foremost -that he was a man and a gentleman, and her love and -respect for him kindled in the same measure that her -love for her father and brother diminished. There -were moments during Wolff's fortnight visit when -she came to hate both, so intensely did she resent -their attitude towards her future husband. The -Rev. John, thanks to Mrs. Ingestre, remained formal -and polite to Wolff's face. Behind his back he -displayed an all-damning charity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course, we must not judge a foreigner by our -standards," he would say pathetically, "and I daresay -he is well-meaning, but I wish, my poor child——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He would then break off, and look out of the window -with an expression full of the most moving pity and -regret.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles, fortified with the knowledge of exams. passed -and a dawning manhood, was not so reserved in his -opinions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't think what you see in him, Nora!" he -once said condescendingly. "He is a regular -out-and-out German, and his hat-doffing and hand-kissing -make me sick. I wish he would take himself and his -beastly polish back to his own country."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whereby it will be seen that "beastly polish" -was not one of Miles Ingestre's weaknesses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the whole, Wolff more than held his own. Although -unaffected and modest as far as his own person -was concerned, he was much too deeply imbued with -the traditional conception of his social position to -feel anything but calm amusement at the ungraciousness -of his two hosts. As an officer in the King's -army, and as a scion of an old and noble race, he felt -himself secure against contempt even in a foreign -country where such things did not count. For him -they counted everywhere—they upheld him and lent -him an imperturbable </span><em class="italics">savoir faire</em><span> where another man -would have shown temper or resentment. Nevertheless, -the fortnight was not a very happy one. The -unspoken knowledge that Wolff was not "approved -of" weighed upon Nora and himself as a fact which -both recognised but felt wiser to ignore. They were -ill at ease even when alone—Nora because she was -ashamed of her own people, Wolff because he knew -she was ashamed, and could do nothing to help her. -Consequently they were happiest when together with -Mrs. Ingestre. Her grace of manner and openly -expressed affection for her future son-in-law lifted the -shadow between them, and the hours spent at her -side counted amongst the most unclouded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were constant "visits" during Wolff's stay. -From the inevitable Mrs. Clerk, who, in spite of strong -disapproval, could not refrain from gushing over the -German Baron to the Manor people, who were -ponderously and haughtily critical, the whole of Delford -came up for the inspection. Of course, it was a -"formal" inspection. "Informal inspections" had -been held in church, and when Wolff had cantered -through Delford on a borrowed horse, which Miles -had hopefully but mistakenly prophesied would -"buck him over the first hedge." On the latter -occasion it is possible that more than one feminine -heart was stirred to unacknowledged admiration for -the bronzed face and splendid figure, and even Miles -was compelled to the sulky confession that "the -fellow could ride."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus the days passed, and, except in one long -interview with the Rev. John, Wolff and Nora's -marriage was treated as a tabooed subject. That -interview, revealing as it did not very brilliant financial -prospects, reduced the rev. gentleman to even deeper -depression, and the hope of a definite settlement -seemed all too far off. It was then that Mrs. Ingestre -threw in the casting vote of her influence. A few -days before Wolff's departure she called him to her, -and the two were alone together for a long hour. -In that hour Wolff learnt to know more of Mrs. Ingestre's -life and character than Nora had done in all -the years at her mother's side. In her desire to help -her daughter to happiness, all other considerations -were forgotten, and Mrs. Ingestre revealed unconsciously -to Wolff's more experienced eyes a profound, -if resigned, grief over her own life, stifled and clogged -as it had been in her husband's atmosphere. In the -quiet room her voice sounded peculiarly earnest, -almost impressive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I need not tell you, my dear Wolff," she said, -"that my husband is against your marriage with -Nora. You must know that already. He has other -ideas of happiness and suitability, and I can scarcely -blame him, since they were once mine. Like him, I -once saw in long acquaintance, similarity in ideas, -and, of course, nationality, a certain wealth and -position, the best foundations for a happy and -successful life. Like him, I would probably have thought -that you were not rich enough to marry, that you had -not known each other long enough, that the difference -of nationality and upbringing would be too great a -stumbling-block. I have learnt since those days to -think differently. The circumstances make little -difference either way, so long as a great love is there. -And, after all, what is a great love?" For the first -time her tone was tinged with a faint cynicism. "Who -can dare to call their love really great until they are -on their deathbeds? We cannot be sure of our love, -whether the object be well known to us or not, until -it has been tried by the fires of years and custom. -Custom is the hardest trial of all, and that is why I -am glad rather than sorry that you and Nora know -each other so little. It is because you know each -other so little that you are in love, for being in love -is simply the charm of standing before the closed, -mysterious door of another's personality, and knocking -for it to open. When the door opens, you will cease -to be in love, but I believe that, because you are both -worthy of it, you will find the all-enduring love waiting -for you. At any rate, it seems to me the chances are -as great for you as for those who, knowing each other -too well, have never known the charm. Wolff, I am -an old woman in suffering if not in years, and I think -age and youth often join hands over the experience -of middle life. Youth believes it is better to be truly -happy for an hour and to suffer through all eternity -rather than enjoy years of placid, passionless content. -And that is what I have also come to believe. I -would rather Nora enjoyed a brief but complete union -with you than a lifetime of 'living together' with -another man. Besides, I trust you; I believe you -to be a good man, as I believe Nora to be a good -woman, and I hope that in the afterwards you will -learn to love each other. As to the question of -nationality and wealth, they spell struggle and sacrifice -for you both, Wolff. As a woman Nora will bring -the greatest sacrifice, but I know that you will help -her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With all my strength."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you will have patience?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked at her wonderingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sometimes you will need it, Wolff. But Nora is -brave and good. She will learn to love your country -because she loves you. For my part—I am glad -that she is leaving Delford far behind her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff made no answer. He felt that the words -were an almost unconscious outburst, that unknowingly -she had spoken of herself. After a moment she went -on with a quiet smile:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So, you see, I am on your side. So long as I am -on your side, there is nothing for either of you to -fear. If anything should happen——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I pray that I shall never give you cause to take -your trust away from me!" Wolff broke in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Ingestre shook her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was not thinking of that possibility," she said. -"I was thinking that if Nora stood alone—without -me—the fight against her father's wishes might be -harder. I know she would hold to you, but it would -be at a bitter cost. That is why I wish for you to -marry soon—as soon as possible."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Something in her tone affected Wolff painfully. -He looked at her, and for the first time he saw that -this woman was suffering intensely, silently, with a -smile on her lips and unconquered life in her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Ingestre!" he exclaimed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She took his hand and pressed it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think you know," she said, "and if I tell you -what I have withheld, and shall withhold, from every -living being, it is because I wish you to clearly -understand my reasons. I cannot live very long, and before -it is too late I want to see Nora in your care. Can -you promise that my wish shall be granted?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He made no effort to pity or express his grief. There -was something masculine in her calm which held him -silent, but in that moment his love for Nora strengthened -because one woman had lifted her whole sex -with her to the highest summit of his man's ideal. -He lifted her hand reverently to his lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"God knows I promise willingly," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus Wolff von Arnim went back to his own country, -and in April, four months later, came again, but not -alone. Frau von Arnim accompanied him, and -Delford awoke from its lethargy to the thrilling, -gossip-giving occasion of a wedding. The ugly church -was made beautiful with all the flowers which -Mrs. Ingestre's garden and the neighbouring town could -provide, the village choir produced its best anthem -with deafening, ear-rending enthusiasm, and every -inhabitant turned out to gape at the "Baron" and -the elegant woman who—it was scarcely to be -believed!—was actually a German. In truth, Frau von -Arnim's elegance and air of </span><em class="italics">grande dame</em><span> upset not -only Delford's preconceived notions but the -Rev. John's attitude as the condescending party in an -obvious </span><em class="italics">mésalliance</em><span>. The "German woman" frightened -him, and his position was rendered the more -difficult by his wife, who chose to take a decided liking -for this new guest and to treat her as a welcome -relation. Altogether, on the day of the wedding the -poor gentleman was fairly carried off his feet by the -foreign invasion. Not only Frau von Arnim, but even -the despised Wolff became a personage beside whom -it was not easy to appear with dignity. The latter -had discarded the ungainly efforts of the Karlsburg -civilian tailor, and though the Delfordites, who, in -spite of a strong anti-military spirit, had had secret -hopes of being regaled with flying plumes and glittering -epaulettes, were somewhat disappointed with his -frock-coat, his height and the fact that he was "a -real foreigner" successfully withdrew every particle -of attention from the Rev. John's moving address.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In all the church there were perhaps only three -people for whom the ceremony had any other -significance than that of an interesting show, and none -of them were listening to the Rev. John. Mrs. Ingestre -was praying for the future in which she was doomed -to have no share. Wolff and Nora thanked God for -the present, which was theirs and which seemed but -a foretaste of the future. Both had forgotten the -trials and disappointments of the last four months, -or if they thought of them at all it was as of obstacles -triumphantly surmounted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In Nora all that had grown hard and bitter softened -into an all-embracing tenderness. Her love for her -father and brother revived—even Delford and its -inhabitants appeared to her in the beautiful light of -farewell. She knew she was leaving everything, if -not for ever, at least for ever as her home, and as she -walked by her husband's side down the narrow -churchyard path her heart throbbed with a sudden pain. -After all, it was England she was leaving—and she -was English no longer! Then she looked up at -Wolff, and their eyes met, and the pain had died -as though at the touch of some mysterious healing -hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How I love you!" she thought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the door of her old home Frau von Arnim was -the first to greet her. Perhaps the elder woman's -instinct had guessed the moment's pain, for she took -Nora in her arms and kissed her with an unusual -tenderness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We will try and make you happy in your new -country," she whispered. "You must not be afraid."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Nora was no longer afraid, and her eyes were -bright with a fearless confidence in the future as she -returned the embrace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I </span><em class="italics">am</em><span> happy!" she said. "I have everything -that I care for in the world."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She ran quickly upstairs and changed into her -simple travelling-dress. Mrs. Ingestre, she knew, was -resting in her room, and the desire to be alone with -her mother for a last moment was strong in Nora's -heart. In her supreme happiness she did not forget -those whom she loved; rather her love had strengthened, -and towards her mother it was mingled with an -endless gratitude. Yet when she crept into the little -room she found it empty and silent. Mrs. Ingestre -had gone back to her guests, and for a moment Nora -stood looking about her, overwhelmed by the tide of -tender memories from a past which already seemed so -far off. The invalid's sofa, her own special chair where -she had sat in those peaceful afternoons when they had -been alone together, her mother's table—Nora drew -closer. Something lying on the polished surface had -attracted her attention. Hardly knowing why, she -picked it up. It was a letter addressed to her at -Karlsburg, and the handwriting was familiar. Nora -did not stop to think. She tore the envelope open -and read the first few lines of the contents with the -rapidity of indifference. Her thoughts were -elsewhere, and the words and the writing had at first no -meaning. And then suddenly, as though she had -been roughly awakened from a dream, she understood -what it was she held. It was from Robert Arnold, -and it was a love-letter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She read the first page over and over again. She -felt stunned and sickened. Her mind refused to -grasp what had happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My darling," Robert had written two months -before, from some far-off African village, "a miracle -has happened! Your letter has come! It must -have missed me at Aden, and had followed me from -place to place until at last it has reached my hands. -And all these months I have been thinking that you -had no answer for me, or at the most the one I feared. -Nora, need you ask me if I will take what you have -to offer? I love you, dear, and I know my love will -awaken yours and that I shall make you happy. My -whole life shall thank you for the trust you have -given me. I can hardly write for my joy, and the -time that must elapse before I can see you seems -intolerable. I cannot return for at least two or three -months, as I have promised a friend to accompany -him on an inland expedition, but when that is over -I shall make full steam for home—or, rather, to -Germany if you are still there. In the meantime, -write to me, dearest. Even though weeks may pass -before the letters reach me, yet the knowledge that -they are there waiting will give me hope and courage. -I am sending this letter to the coast by a native carrier. -Heaven knows if it will ever reach you, but..."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora looked up, conscious that she was no longer -alone. Wolff stood in the doorway, dressed for -departure, his hands outstretched.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you ready, </span><em class="italics">kleine Frau</em><span>?" he said. "We -are all waiting for you——" He broke off, and took -a quick step towards her. "Nora!" he exclaimed. -"How pale you are! What is the matter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It seemed to her that a full minute must have -elapsed before she brought her lips to move, but in -reality she answered almost immediately:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is nothing—nothing whatever. I am quite -ready—I will come now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Outwardly pale and calm, she had lost all inner -self-possession, and in a kind of frenzied fear was -tearing the letter into a thousand pieces. She had no -thought for the future; blindly and instinctively she -was saving herself from the present.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff watched her in puzzled silence. Then, when -the last fragment fell to the ground, he came and -took her hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora, something </span><em class="italics">is</em><span> wrong. Did that letter -trouble you? What was it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no. If it is anything, it is just the thought -of leaving them all. Surely you understand?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Poor Nora! That "some day" when she had -thought to tell him everything had become a "never," -sealed and made irrevocable by a silence and a lie. -Poor Wolff! He thought he understood. He put -his arms tenderly about her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I understand. I know you have given up -everything for my sake. But, oh, Nora, God helping -us, we shall be so happy!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He waited, and then, as she did not speak, went -on gently:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can you bear to come now? Is your love big -enough to give up all that is past, to start afresh—a -new life with me in a new home, a new country? -Is it too great a sacrifice to ask, Nora?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His words acted like a strong charm. She thought -they were prophetic, and her reckless despair changed -into a more reckless happiness. She lifted her face -to his, and her eyes were triumphant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is no sacrifice," she said. "My love for you -can perform miracles. It has made your people my -people, your God my God, and it can wipe out the -past—everything—and leave nothing in my life but -you! Take me with you, Wolff. I am quite, quite -ready!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He led her proudly and happily from the room, and -afterwards from the house that had been her home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But, little as she knew it, no miracle had been -performed in Nora's life.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>END OF BOOK I</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-new-home"><span class="bold large">BOOK II</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER I</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE NEW HOME</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"My dear," said Frau von Seleneck, bustling into her -husband's study, "is it true that the Arnims have -arrived? I heard something about it yesterday from -Clara, but she was not certain, and I want to know. -Of course they ought to call first, but as one of the -regiment, we don't need to stand on ceremony. -Besides, I want to see his wife."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And his flat, and his furniture, and his cook, and -her dresses," Herr von Seleneck added, with a chuckle. -"Yes; call by all means. They arrived some days -ago, and have a flat in the Adler Strasse. You had -better go this morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought you had duty?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So I have." Kurt von Seleneck stretched -himself, and his eyes twinkled. "You can make that -my excuse for not accompanying you on your first -visit. You don't need to pretend to me, after five -years of married life, that you really want me to come -with you, because you know you don't. Just think -of the things you can talk about if I am not there! -Just think how wretchedly </span><em class="italics">de trop</em><span> I should be between -you two, and let me go—this time, at least."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You would have Wolff to talk to," Frau von -Seleneck said, trying to draw her round, rosy face -into lines of disappointment. "You must have a -lot to say to each other."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you!" her husband retorted, preparing -to exchange his undress </span><em class="italics">Litewka</em><span> for the blue coat -which a stolid orderly was holding in readiness. -"Wolff and I will have opportunities enough, and -the prospect of being sent away 'to talk' like children -whilst you two women exchange confidences is too -humiliating. Go alone, my dear."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Seleneck, having attained her object, -proceeded to raise all sorts of objections.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think it is mean of you to desert me, Kurt," -she said. "Frau von Arnim probably can't speak a -word of German, and my English is as rusty as it -can be. I haven't spoken it for years and years. We -shall have to play Dumb Crambo or something, and -I shall die of nervousness."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope not," Seleneck said, who was now busy -with the gloves she had laid out for him. "No doubt -you are too modest, and your English only needs a -little polish to reach perfection. At any rate, you -can but try, and, as far as I know, Frau von Arnim can -help things along with her German. She has been -in Karlsburg ever since May, and ought to have -picked up something of the language."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, if it comes to that, I dare say I shall manage -quite well," said Frau von Seleneck, who was secretly -very proud of her English, "but I wish she were -</span><em class="italics">erne gute Deutsche</em><span>. I can't think why Wolff married -an Englishwoman. All English people are dreadful. -I had an English governess who frightened me to -death. At meal times she used to keep up a fire of -unpleasant criticism, and glare at me as though I were -a sort of heathen monstrosity. 'Elsa, don't bolt -your food! You eat like a wolf! Your manners -would disgrace a bricklayer!' I simply hated her, -and I hate all English people. They are so rude and -stiff and </span><em class="italics">ungemtlich</em><span>. One sees that they despise -everybody except themselves, and one wonders how -they manage it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her husband laughed good-naturedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think they are as bad as you paint them," -he said. "I believe some of them are quite decent -fellows, and Frau von Arnim is, I know, charming. -At any rate, do your best to be agreeable; there's a -kind soul. I expect she will feel rather forlorn at -first."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Seleneck bridled with indignation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course I shall be agreeable! If she doesn't -freeze me, I shall do everything I can to make her -feel she is one of us. At least——" she hesitated, -"I suppose she is one of us, isn't she? Who was she -before she married Wolff?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear, if you knew you wouldn't be much the -wiser," Seleneck said, preparing for departure. -"English people are different. I believe it is quite an -honour to marry a rich tea-merchant—or a rich -anybody, for that matter. As far as I know, Frau von -Arnim was a parson's daughter, and quite good -family. The fact that Wolff married her and has been -able to stay in the Army is guarantee enough."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elsa von Seleneck looked relieved.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course!" she said. "How stupid of me! -Well, I shall go and see what I can do to help her. -I expect she is in frightful trouble with her servants. -I know I am."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She accompanied her husband to the door of their -flat, brushed an imaginary speck of dust off his -uniform, kissed him and rushed to the window to wave -him a last farewell as he rode off down the quiet -street. Until eleven o'clock she busied herself with -her household matters, then arrayed herself in her -best clothes and set off on the proposed voyage of -discovery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Adler Strasse lay at some considerable -distance, and Frau von Seleneck was both hot and -exhausted by the time she reached the unpretentious -little house where the Arnims had taken up their -quarters. She had not made use of the trams, because -if you start taking trams in Berlin you can spend a -fortune, and she had no fortune to spend. Moreover, -she was a rotund little person, with a dangerous -tendency to stoutness, and exercise therefore was a -good excuse for saving the pfennige. Certainly she -had exercise enough before she reached the Arnims' -flat. It was on the top floor, and even for Frau -von Seleneck's taste, which was not that of a pampered -millionaire, the stairs were unusually steep and narrow -and smelly. From the tiny landing where the visitor -sought room to wait patiently for the opening of the -hall door, it was possible to make a close guess at -the various dinners which were being prepared in -all four flats. Boiled vegetables formed the staple -odour, and as, according to the unwritten law which -governs German flats, all the staircase windows were -hermetically sealed, it was very noticeable indeed. -Not that this troubled Frau von Seleneck in the least. -What did trouble her was the obstinate silence which -greeted her vigorous application of the electric bell. -At last, after one exceptionally determined peal, the -door was cautiously opened, and Frau von Seleneck -found herself welcomed by a girl who stared at her -with an amusing mixture of alarm and indignation, -Frau von Seleneck's inner comment was to the point.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pretty servants are always a trouble," she thought. -"This one will certainly be having love affairs with -the Bursche. I shall warn Frau von Arnim at once."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Aloud she inquired if the </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span> was at -home. To her surprise, a deep flush mounted the -"servant's" cheeks and dyed the white forehead to -the roots of the somewhat disordered brown hair. -The door was opened a fraction wider.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am the </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>," a low voice said shame-facedly, -in a nervous, broken German. "My—my -cook has gone out, and so——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Seleneck held out both her hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, of course!" she cried in English. "How -stupid of me! I am terribly short-sighted, you know, -or I should not make so silly a mistake. I am Frau -von Seleneck—the wife of your husband's old -comrade. I should have had the joy of meeting you in -Karlsburg, but I was ill at the time—and better -late than never, as you English say. I have come -now to tell you "Willkommen in the Fatherland!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her English came in an almost unintelligible rush, -but the tone was so warmhearted and friendly, that -poor Nora, who believed she had brought everlasting -disgrace upon herself and the whole family, was -humbly thankful to open the drawing-room door and -usher in her unexpected visitor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know what you must think of me," she -said, "but just at present we have only one servant, -and she has gone out. It seems the tradespeople -don't come for orders, and I am much too inexperienced, -and know far too little German to go shopping alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In her unhappiness at having opened the door, -she forgot to offer Frau von Seleneck a chair; but the -latter, at heart only too thankful to find the freezing -"Engländerin" in so human a fluster, took possession -of the centre of the little sofa, and began the -work of reassurance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is nothing whatever in the world, dear Frau -von Arnim," she said cheerfully. "I often open the -door myself, and if anybody takes me for my cook, -what does that make? It prove that the person does -not belong to my circle, and if he does not belong to my -circle it makes nothing what he thinks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During this exposition of uncontrovertible logic -she had been making a rapid mental catalogue of the -furniture. Nora saw the wandering eyes, and her -humiliation deepened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am afraid the room is horribly untidy," she -confessed, wondering if the time would ever come -when she would be able to stop apologising and begin -a normal conversation. "You see, we have only -been in a few days, and I have not got everything in -its place. I hope soon it will look a little better."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She spoke rather despondently, because she felt -the cheap little suite of plush furniture gave no great -hopes of "looking better," even with the most careful -arrangement, and she was sure that the fact was -obvious to all. Very much to her surprise, therefore, -her visitor broke into a panegyric of praise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is all charming!" she said, looking about her -very much as though she were in a gallery of -art-treasures. "I do not see how it could be better. -And how good have you chose the colours! The -chairs are almost the same tint as the paper, aren't -they?—not quite, perhaps, but nearly. And the -curtains are exquisite. How I envy you! When -you come to see us, you will say, 'Ach! how is all -old and shady!' and you will pity us long-married -people."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps you would like to see the other rooms?" -Nora suggested, who had never mastered the problem -as to what one did with visitors who called at twelve -o'clock in the morning. Frau von Seleneck expressed -herself more than willing, and a close inspection was -made of the five large-sized cupboards which served -the Arnims as abode.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Really, one can hardly know which is the most -delightful," Frau von Seleneck declared at the end. -"Everything is so tasty, as you English say—so -bijou."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A little stuffy, don't you think?" Nora said -timidly. "I can never get enough air, and the stairs -are sometimes quite—unpleasant. Didn't you notice it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Ach, was!</em><span>" Frau von Seleneck exclaimed. -"You should smell ours when our down-below neighbours -have their wash-day. Then you might complain. -But one must not complain. It is the greatest mistake -possible—and so ungrateful. Everything is so -delightful, you know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I suppose it is," Nora said hesitatingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Seleneck gave a comfortable little laugh, -and patted her on the shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't think so, </span><em class="italics">Verehrteste</em><span>? You must do -like I. Six days in the week I thank </span><em class="italics">dem lieben Gott</em><span> -that my neighbours wash not, and the seventh I -think of my sins. That way I can almost enjoy the -smell. And after all, it is quite a little smell, and -my sins are sometimes——" She spread out her -arms to indicate an immeasurable immensity, and -Nora laughed. Her visitor's good spirits were so -infectious that she forgot her futile discussion with -the cook, and the impenetrable stupidity of the Bursche, -and began to believe that everything really was -"delightful."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will think of your advice next time I want to -grumble," she said, as they re-entered the drawing-room. -"Perhaps it will help me over some bad moments."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Seleneck took her hand, and, to Nora's -surprise, embraced her affectionately.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is why I am here," she said. "The others—the -</span><em class="italics">Spitzen</em><span>, superior officers and wives, you know—you -will have to visit first. But I thought I could -help you. I am such an old soldier." She laughed -again, and then became suddenly thoughtful. "Have -you yet called upon the Mayos?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," Nora answered abruptly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you must do so at once—they are important -people, and Major von Mayo is your husband's direct -superior. You know, at the beginning it is important -that you should offend no one—one cannot be too -particular."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I met Frau von Mayo in Karlsburg," Nora said. -"I did not like her—she was rude and ill-mannered."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Seleneck's eyes twinkled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She is always so," she said. "One gets accustomed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not think that I should 'get accustomed,'" -Nora retorted, with heightened colour. "At any -rate, I shall not call."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You——" Frau von Seleneck gasped, and her -eyes distended with unaffected horror. "</span><em class="italics">Aber, du -lieber Gott im Himmel!</em><span>—you cannot mean what you -say, you do not know——" she choked. "</span><em class="italics">Es ist -unmöglich!</em><span>" she decided, as though addressing an -unreasonable deity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't see why it is </span><em class="italics">unmöglich</em><span>," Nora said. -"There is no purpose in calling on people whom I -do not want to know. I told Wolff so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, you have told your husband! And what -did he say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora hesitated. She remembered now that Wolff -had looked troubled, and the remembrance caused -her a sudden uneasiness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He said I could do as I liked," she said slowly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, the young husbands!" Frau von Seleneck -threw up her hands. "What folly! It must not -be. You must call on the Mayos—on everybody. -You must not show that you hate or that you love. -You must be the same to all—gracious, smiling—though -you may want to scratch their eyes out. -You must remember we are all comrades."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Comrades! I do not want Frau von Mayo as a -comrade!" Nora cried indignantly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Seleneck bent forward, and her voice -sank to a mysterious whisper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nor do any of us. I tell you in secret—she is a -hateful person. But we must not let her see—it is -our duty to pretend."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why?" Nora demanded uncompromisingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For our husbands' sake—it does not do to have -ill-feeling between the wives. Then the husbands -quarrel, and there must be no ill-feeling between -comrades."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora shook her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm afraid I'm no good at pretending," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you will try—for your good Wolff's sake? -See, I will help you—if you will let me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora took the outstretched hand. Her moment's -anger had gone—dispersed by the simple appeal -"for Wolff's sake."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are very good to me," she said gratefully, -"and I will try and do what is right. Everything is -so new and strange to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know, I know. But you will see—all will go -so smooth—so smooth. One day I will go with you -to the Mayos. I have my little English, and that -will make it easier. My poor English!" She gave -another of her comfortable chuckles. "He is so very bad."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, not at all!" Nora hastened to reassure her -politely. "It is really quite good—considering. I -can understand everything you say."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a rather sudden silence, and to her -alarm Nora observed that her visitor's pink cheeks -had turned a bright scarlet, and that there was a look -of almost childish disappointment in the large brown -eyes. "What have I done?" Nora thought, and -then, before she had time to fathom the mystery, the -good-natured little woman had recovered her -equanimity as suddenly as she had lost it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You and I must be great friends," she said. "Our -husbands are so—great friends, and then, of course, -you belong to the regiment—at least"—she corrected -herself hastily, and almost apologetically—"your -husband is on the Staff now, and will make a -brilliant career, whilst my poor </span><em class="italics">Mann</em><span> has only a -year's </span><em class="italics">Kommando</em><span>. Still, you </span><em class="italics">did</em><span> belong to the -regiment, did you not? And that always makes a -bond."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course," Nora said. She was a little overwhelmed -by the respect which this vastly older and -wiser personage displayed towards her, and for the -first time she realised that she had married a man on -whom the military world already cast eyes of interest -and envy. "I should only be too grateful for your -friendship," she went on. "I know no one here, -and Berlin is so big and strange to me. When Wolff -is on duty I feel quite lost."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And a leetle </span><em class="italics">Heimweh</em><span>?" Frau von Seleneck -suggested quickly. "I know not what the word is -in English, but it is a terrible pain. I have it -here"—she put her hand to her heart—"every year, once -for two months, when Kurt is in the manoeuvres, -and I weep—I weep whole buckets full."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora started.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Two months!" she said, horror-struck. "And -will Wolff be away all that time?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Aber natürlich, liebes Kind</em><span>! Even your Wolff -will not be excused again. The Emperor has no -heart for the poor wives. But you must not complain. -You must laugh and be happy—at any rate, until -your husband has gone. I always send mine away -with a big smile, and tell him I am glad to be rid of -him. Afterwards I weep. It is a great comfort to -weep, but men like not tears. It makes them -uncomfortable, and besides, one must not make their -duty harder than it is."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course not," Nora said bravely. "I shall do -all I can to help him. And one can write lots of -letters, can't one?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Every day, and twice a day," declared her visitor -cheerily, as she arose. "Ach, you will be a good -soldier's wife soon. And now I must go and see that -my silly Bertha has not put all the salt-box in the -soup. But if you will let me I will come again, and -bring my Kurt with me. He was dying to come -this time, but I would have none of him. Men are -such a nuisance, </span><em class="italics">nicht wahr</em><span>! And then you must -come and see us, and we will talk German together, -and you shall know all my friends, and we will help -each other like </span><em class="italics">gute Kameraden</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A warm, hurried embrace, and plump, smiling-faced -Frau von Seleneck was out of the room and on the -tiny landing. A last pressure of the hand, a hearty -"</span><em class="italics">Aufwiedersehen!</em><span>" and she had disappeared into a -foggy atmosphere of pea-soup and Sauerkraut.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora went back into the disordered little drawing-room, -and set to work with a new will. The spirit of -cheery content and selflessness had been left sitting -on the sofa, and it seemed to chuckle in a peculiar, -fat, comfortable way as Nora pushed the chairs -backwards and forwards in the vain attempt to induce -an air of elegance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Even if she does admire the furniture, and think -the flat perfection, she has a good, kind heart," Nora -thought. "I am glad we are going to be friends."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She began to hum to herself, and when in an -unusually untidy corner she found a pair of Wolff's -</span><em class="italics">dritte Garnitur</em><span> gloves, she picked them up and kissed -them. There was so much sunlight and love in her -heart that smells and stuffiness and ugly furniture -were forgotten, and she triumphed in the knowledge -that she was, without exception, the happiest woman -in the world.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="and-the-new-life"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER II</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">—AND THE NEW LIFE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Nora sank with a triumphant sigh into her favourite -arm-chair by the window. The much-dreaded visit -to the Mayos was an accomplished fact, the day's -household work at an end, and for a breathing-space -she was at liberty to enjoy the luxury of an unobserved -idleness. Dusk had set in, and dusk is the time of -memories and dreams. And this evening Nora -recalled the near past. She could not have explained -why of late her thoughts reverted so constantly to the -glowing period which had stood, as it were, beyond -the first entry of her marriage and divided it from the -dull grey of everyday life. The glorious month in -the Black Forest, the visit to Karlsburg, the princely -reception by her husband's old regiment, the military -serenades, the military visits, the endless flood of -bouquets from </span><em class="italics">Kameraden</em><span> the wild enthusiasm of -poor little Fräulein Müller, who felt as though "it -were my own wedding-day, you know, </span><em class="italics">liebes Kind</em><span>," -and behaved as though such were really the case, -the happy hours with Hildegarde and her mother—all -this awoke in Nora's memory like some brilliant, -intoxicating dream in whose reality she could scarcely -believe. Then had come the house-hunting—or, -rather, flat-hunting in the stifling heat of a Berlin -July, and at last this—the slow settling down to her -new life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora sighed. She was feeling very tired and -possibly slightly depressed. In truth, she was very -often depressed in that hour which divided the close -of her day's duties and Wolff's return, and sometimes -there was even a touch of irritability in her depression. -The constant round of "teas," the constant meeting -of the same people, the constant repetitions, the -unfailing discussions on </span><em class="italics">Dienst</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">Dienstangelegenheiten</em><span> -wearied her to exasperation. Some of the -women she liked, some she tolerated, some she hated; -but, hated or loved or tolerated, these women formed -her "circle," from which there was no possible escape. -On the whole, she bore the burden of their -good-natured dullness with apparent equanimity, so that -Frau von Seleneck had told her, with the satisfaction -of a successful monitor, that she was really "one of -them." But there were also moments when weariness -overcame her determined courage, and only the -rallying-cry "For Wolff's sake" could bring light -to her eyes. They were for the most part lonely -moments, when she wandered about the tiny flat -seeking some occupation which would help to pass -the time till Wolff's return, or when </span><em class="italics">Kriegspiel</em><span> -carried him away in the evenings and left her to -solitude, a vague home-sickness—and fear. For fear -had not been altogether banished from Nora's life, -though she held it under with a firm hand. It haunted -her now as she sat there watching the lights spring -up in the windows opposite; it asked her what had -happened, and what might still happen; it reminded -her of the man she had deceived. No, not deceived. -After all, she had offered her life, not her love, to -Robert Arnold, because he had needed her, and -because she in her turn had needed him as a barrier -between herself and the man she really loved. When -the barrier had proved useless she had flung it aside, -and she knew that if she could live over again that -hour when Wolff von Arnim had come to her with -love and happiness in his hands, she would not act -otherwise than she had done. And to Robert Arnold -she had offered the one possible atonement—she had -told him the truth. He had not answered her, and -she had tried to put him out of her life, regretfully -and remorsefully, as a friend whom she had wronged -beyond forgiveness. Nevertheless, the power to forget -had not been granted her. Memory, like some old -mythological Fury seeking an expiatory sacrifice, -haunted her and would haunt her, as she knew, until -such time as the sacrifice was paid. And the sacrifice -was a confession to her husband—an impossibility, -since her lips were sealed by a lie and by the fear of -losing that which was most precious to her—his love.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But there shall be no more secrets in my life," -she thought as she heard his step on the stairs outside, -and perhaps at the bottom of her heart there lurked -a superstitious hope that Nemesis had heard her -promise and accepted it as an atonement. The -next minute she was in her husband's arms, and -Nemesis, conscience, Robert Arnold, and all the -petty trials of the day were forgotten, overwhelmed -by a passionate joy which filled her heart and the -dusky room with sunshine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, Nora!" he exclaimed. "You are like a -little hobgoblin, springing at one out of the shadows. -What have you been doing all alone in the dark?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dreaming—and waiting for you," she answered -gaily. "Wait a moment till I have lit the lamp. -I had forgotten that weary warriors do not care for -the dim religious light which goes with dreaming."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He sank down into his chair with a tired sigh of -contentment and watched her as she busied about -the room, putting away his gloves and the officer's -cap which he had thrown upon the table. There -was no trace of depression in her face, nor, indeed, -in her heart—only an almost childish happiness, and -gradually the lines of worry and exhaustion faded -from about the man's strong mouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How good it is to come home, Nora!" he said -under his breath. "When I think of how I used to -feel after a long day's work—why, I can't imagine -how I existed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do I make all the difference?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All the difference, my little wife."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She came and kissed him, and then stood looking -down into his face with tender concern.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You look so tired. Has anything been worrying you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, nothing—only the head-work is rather a -strain. One has to give mind and soul to it; there -is no slacking possible, even if one were inclined that -way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Which you are not, you terrible man of iron -and blood! Sometimes I am quite jealous of your -work: I believe you love it more than you do me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is my duty," he answered gravely. And then, -after a moment, he added in a lighter tone, "By -the way, an old friend of yours has arrived in -Berlin."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora started.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bauer!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was conscious of a sensation of relief as reasonless -as it was acute. Of what had she been afraid? -She herself could not have told.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I used to look upon that man as my evil genius," -she said gaily, "but now I think he must have been -sent as an angel in disguise. If it had not been for -him I should not have known you loved me—do -you remember—that day, in the forest?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am never likely to forget," he answered, with -a sudden movement of pain. "When I think what -might have happened to you——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mustn't think. Nothing </span><em class="italics">did</em><span> happen to me—or -only something nice. But now you must listen to -my news. Imagine what I have done to-day?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora, is that fair? Do you really expect my -exhausted brains to tackle a problem like that!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't be rude! Think—I have called on the -whole family Mayo, and been so polite and amiable -that her ladyship only found it in her heart to be -rude once. What have you to say to that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What have I to say?" He took her hand and -kissed it. "Thank you, dear."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked at him in surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, Wolff, does it mean so much to you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, a good deal. You see—one gets a bad name -if one neglects certain people."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then why didn't you insist?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He hesitated, avoiding her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I didn't want to bother you more than I could -help. Sometimes I am afraid it must be very hard -on you, little woman."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Intuitively she guessed his thoughts, and without -a word she gathered up some sheets of closely written -notepaper lying on the table and thrust them into -his hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There, read that, you extremely foolish husband -of mine!" she cried triumphantly. "I have been -writing home, so you can judge for yourself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He obeyed, and she stood watching him, knowing -that he could but be satisfied. Indeed, her letters -home were full of her happiness and of Wolff—the -two things were synonymous—and if she did not -mention that their home was small and stuffy, that -she did most of the household work herself, and that -a strict, painful economy watched over every item -of their daily life, it was partly because she told herself -that these details played no part in her estimation -and partly because she shrank instinctively from the -criticism which she knew would inevitably result. -She gave, instead, glowing descriptions of the -dinner-parties, of the whist-parties, even of the four-hour -tea-parties with their unbroken conversational circle -of </span><em class="italics">Dienstangelegenheiten</em><span> and "</span><em class="italics">Dienst-mädchen</em><span>." And -in all this there was no hypocrisy. Her -momentary depression and distaste were sub-conscious; -she did not recognise them as such. She -called them "moods," which vanished like mists in -the sunshine of her husband's presence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well?" she demanded, as he put the letters aside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He shook his finger at her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Frauchen, Frauchen!" he said, laughing, "I -am afraid you are what English people would call a -humbug. From this epistle one would really imagine -that Frau von Seleneck had received you in a palace, -and that you had associated with all the </span><em class="italics">belles esprits</em><span> -in Berlin, instead of—well, I imagine something very -different. If I remember rightly, on that particular -evening I found a very pale-faced wife waiting for -me, with a bad headache and an apologetic description -of an afternoon spent in an overheated cupboard, -with six other unhappy sufferers. And then you sit -down and write that you enjoyed yourself immensely. -Oh, Nora, Nora!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I </span><em class="italics">did</em><span> enjoy myself!" Nora affirmed, perching -herself on the arm of her chair. "You know very -well that the anticipation of happiness is almost as -good as the thing itself, and every time that I felt -I was going to suffocate I thought of the evening we -were to spend together afterwards, and felt as happy -as I have described myself. After all, everything -helps to pass the time till we are together again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He put his arm about her and was silent a moment, -gazing thoughtfully before him. Then he looked -up at her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It strikes me sometimes what a poor life I have -to offer you, Nora," he said abruptly. "I don't -think I would have noticed it so much, had I not seen -your home. Poverty is such a relative conception. -There are hundreds of officers' wives who are no better -off than you, and who think themselves comfortably -situated. But your father talked of poverty, and -lived—for our ideas—like a lord. When I compare things -I feel as though I had wronged you, and tempted you -into a life of sacrifice to which you were never born."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora bent her head and kissed him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are a very foolish fellow!" she said. "If -you were not so filled with fortifications and tactics, -you would know quite well that I would rather live -in a rabbit-hutch with my husband, than in a palace -with a prince."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnim laughed, and it was obvious that her words -had lifted a very real burden from his mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm afraid you would never get your husband -into a rabbit-hutch," he said, with a self-satisfied -glance at his own long, powerful limbs. "Still, it is -a comfort to know that you would be ready to make -the attempt. I think, though, if your people knew, -and were not blinded by a certain deceitful young -person, they would feel very differently. I think they -would have a good many disagreeable things to say -on the subject of your German home. Don't you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I don't!" said Nora, privately determined -that they should never have the chance. "I think -they would be very glad to see for themselves how -happy I am."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff drew a letter from the pocket of his </span><em class="italics">Litewka</em><span>, -and handed it to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In that case there seems every likelihood of -them enjoying that spectacle in the near future," he -said. "I had this letter from your father by the -evening post. Read it and see what you think."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora's beaming face clouded over somewhat. -Letters from her father were always a mixed pleasure, -and Wolff's words had warned her that this particular -one contained something more than the usual -condensed sermon. Her supposition was correct. After -a long-winded preamble, the Rev. John plunged into -the matter which was really on his mind. It -appeared that Miles, having broken down under the -strain of his military duties, had been granted a few -months' leave, and it was proposed that he should -spend the time abroad—for the benefit of his -education. And whither was it more natural that he -should go than to his own dear sister?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can imagine," the Rev. John had written, -"that apart from the fact that we shall miss our boy -terribly, the expense of the undertaking weighs heavily -upon our minds. I am prepared, however, to make -every possible sacrifice in order that he should obtain -his wish, and am anxious to know if you could help -me. Being on the spot, you will know best where -and at what cost he could remain during his stay in -your fine capital and, as one of the family, I feel sure -that we shall be able to trust him to your care and -surveillance. I should be most grateful, my dear -Wolff, if you would give me your reply as soon as -possible, as Miles is most eager to join you, and my -wife, whose health, I regret to say, is far from -satisfactory, feels that it would be good for her to be able -to enjoy perfect quiet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora put the letter down. It was the first time -that the Rev. John had ever spoken of his son-in-law -as "My dear Wolff" or admitted that he was "one -of the family," and Nora felt vaguely ashamed—so -much so, that she did not meet her husband's eyes, -but sat twisting the carefully written epistle into a -torn screw, as though she would have preferred to -throw it in the fire, but was restrained by a sense of -respect.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have certainly overdone it with my descriptions," -she admitted frankly. "Miles is getting bored at -home, and imagines that we can procure a good time -for him here. What are you going to do, Wolff?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think there is only one thing for us to do," -Wolff answered, with a somewhat grim smile, "and -that is—our duty. I shall write to your father and -invite Miles to stay with us, so long as he is in -Berlin."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora got up. The movement was abrupt enough -to suggest a sudden disquiet amounting to actual -fear, and her face had become crimson.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wouldn't you like it, Nora?" her husband asked. -He was watching her keenly, and his gaze seemed -to increase her uneasiness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miles is so young—a mere boy," she stammered. -"We can't tell what trouble he will get into. And -besides, where have we to put him? We have no -room?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is the </span><em class="italics">Fremdenzimmer</em><span>," Wolff answered -quietly; "and as to your other objection, I can only -say that at his age I was already lieutenant, and free -to govern my own life as I chose."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One can't compare you with Miles," Nora -interposed. "I think your people must have been -able to trust you when you were in the cradle."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff laughed, but the gravity in his eyes remained -unchanged. He got up, and put his hands on Nora's -shoulders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You do not want your brother to come," he said. -"Is it not a little because you are ashamed—of the -way we live?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora met his eyes steadily, but for a moment she -was silent, deep in her own thoughts. She was trying -to find out exactly why a weight had fallen upon her -mind, why the atmosphere in the little room had -become close and stifling. Was it really shame, or -was it something else—a foreboding of resulting evil, -too vague to be defined in words?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I want an answer, Nora," Wolff continued firmly. -"The thought that you might be hiding the truth -from your people out of loyalty towards me is -intensely painful. Heaven knows, I would bring every -possible sacrifice——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hush!" Nora interrupted, and there was a -curious note of sternness in her young voice. "I -hate to hear you talk like that. It sounds as though -</span><em class="italics">I</em><span> had brought some sacrifice, or had lowered myself -to become your wife. I married you, Wolff, because -I loved you, and because I knew that you were the -only man with whom I could be happy. You have -given me everything my most sanguine hopes could -ask of life. That is the truth. What more can I say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He bent and kissed her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, dear," he said. "Then I may write -to your father?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes—of course. I shall miss our quiet evenings -alone, Wolff; but if you think it right——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think there is nothing else for us to do," her -husband answered. "After all, I do not expect it -will be for long. We must not be selfish, dearest."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora smiled cheerfully; but for the first time in -her married life the cheerfulness was forced. She -could not shake off the feeling that a change had come, -and one which was to bring no good with it.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-meeting"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER III</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A MEETING</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Frau von Seleneck was engaged with her toilet -before the looking-glass, and Nora, seated in the -place of honour on the sofa, watched her with a critical -interest. Hitherto she had not troubled herself much -with the dowdiness or the smartness of her friends' -apparel; she had accepted the general principle -that "those sort of things did not matter so long as -everybody knew who you were"; but something or -other had occurred of late to change her attitude—a -something which she had successfully avoided -analysing. Only when Frau von Seleneck drew on her -white silk mittens, Nora found herself wondering -what Miles would think of her and, indeed, of everything. -Not that Miles's opinion was of the slightest -importance, but the possibility of criticism roused -her to criticise; she was beginning to consider her -surroundings without the aid of love-tinted glasses, -and the results, if hitherto painless, were somewhat -disconcerting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now I am really ready!" Elsa von Seleneck -declared, considering her bemittened hands. "How -do you like my dress, Nora?" She lifted the ends -of her mouse-coloured evening cloak and displayed -herself with complacency. "No one would believe -I had had it three years. Frau von Schilling said she -thought it was quite a marvel. But you English have -such good taste—I should like to know what you -think."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora took a deep breath, and then, having seen the -round, good-natured face turn to her with an -expression of almost wistful appeal, plunged.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think it is a marvel, too," she said slowly. -"I am so glad. You know, the first year I had it -it was cream, the second year mauve, the third year -black. Such a beautiful black, too! Of course, the -fashion——" she looked at the puff sleeves -regretfully—"they are rather out of date, are they not?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That doesn't matter," Nora assured her. "The -fashions are anyhow so ugly——" she was going to -add "here," but stopped in time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Seleneck laughed her comfortable laugh. -It was one of her virtues that she never gave or -suspected offence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite right, Norachen. How wonderfully sensible -and practical you English are—at least, I should not -say 'You English,' for you are a good German now, my -dear!" It was evident that she had intended the -remark as a compliment, and Nora was annoyed with -herself for her own rather grim silence. "But there!" -her friend went on with a sudden gust of energy, "here -I stand and chatter, and it is getting so late! If there -is one thing Her Excellency dislikes it is unpunctuality, -and at this rate we are certain to miss the tram. Now, -isn't that annoying! Bertha has hidden my goloshes -again!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In response to a heated summons, the little -maid-of-all-work made her appearance, and after a long -scramble around the hall hatstand the required articles -were discovered and donned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now I am </span><em class="italics">really</em><span> ready!" Frau von Seleneck -declared for the twentieth time, and to confirm the -statement proceeded to lead the way downstairs. -Nora followed resignedly. She knew that it was -raining, and she knew also that the very idea of taking -a cab would be crushed instantly as a heinous extravagance, -so she gathered up the frail skirt of her chiffon -dress and prepared for the worst with a humorous -despair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fortunately, though they indeed missed the tram, -the road to Her Excellency Frau von Gersdorf's flat -was not a long one, and only Nora's temper suffered -in the transit. And even that circumstance passed -unnoticed. Frau von Seleneck had walked very fast, -and by the time they had mounted the flight of stone -stairs leading to their destination she was hopelessly -out of breath and in no mood to notice Nora's ruffled -condition.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, but it is good to be arrived!" she sighed in -English as she yielded her cloak to the attendant -housemaid. "Now, my dear!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The "now, my dear" was uttered in an awe-struck -tone which suggested a solemnal entry into the -Imperial Presence, and Nora, following her lead towards -the drawing-room, experienced the bliss of a short-lived -hope. She knew that it was a great honour to -be invited to "Her Excellency's Evenings"; was -it not possible that they might be different to the other -"evenings" which she knew so well? Was it not -possible that she was to see new faces and learn to -know a brilliant world which she could show to Miles -without—— She did not finish the thought, and indeed -the hope had died at birth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The door was thrown open, and she found herself -in a small library, which appeared to form a kind of -backwater for the two adjoining and equally -over-crowded rooms. Nora sighed. There was no one -in that moving stream whom she had not met before—the -very sandwiches arranged in symmetrical order -on the table under the window seemed to welcome -her with the silent greeting of a long-established -friendship. She knew their history so well. Had she not -made them herself as many times as it had been her -fate to give a so-called "evening"? As to the rest -of the company, there was the usual sprinkling of -elderly officers and their wives and an apparently -limitless number of stray lieutenants who, commanded -temporarily to Berlin, had been brought together by the -natural law which unites exiles and outcasts. Her -Excellency's son himself belonged to a regiment stationed -in a southern state—hence the familiar "clique" -which crowded his mother's rooms. Nora had seen -enough to resign all hope before their hostess bore -down upon them. The little old lady, who had been -holding a veritable levee at the folding-doors, displayed -all the naïve cordiality which belonged to her South -German blood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How good of you to come!" she exclaimed, -taking Nora's hand between both her own. "It is -such a delightful evening—everybody is here, you -know. And where is Herr von Arnim?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora looked down smiling into the alert but deeply -lined face. In any other country Her Excellency von -Gersdorf would have cut rather a ridiculous figure. -She had once been a great beauty, and though there -were but few traces left of her former splendour, she -had still retained the long ringlets and the flowered -brocades of her youth. These and other eccentricities—she -had a passion for reciting her own and other -people's poetry on all possible and impossible occasions—were -respectfully accepted by the mighty circle of her -acquaintances. She was Her Excellency von Gersdorf, -the widow of a high-standing Court official, and by -birth a countess with sixteen untarnished quarterings; -consequently at liberty to do, say, and dress exactly -what and how she pleased, without exciting the slightest -criticism. Nora knew all this; but in the brief -pause between her hostess's question and her own -answer she found herself again wondering what her -English friends would say—what Miles would say.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My husband sends his greetings and begs that -your Excellency will excuse him," she answered. "He -has some important work to-night and could not -accompany me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Gersdorf nodded, whilst her bright, bird-like -eyes wandered over her guests.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know, I know; these General-Staff husbands are -totally unreliable. But there, I dare say you will be -able to amuse yourself without him. I think you -must know everybody here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Everybody," Nora responded gravely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And—</span><em class="italics">ach, ja, naturlich</em><span>! There is a countryman -of yours who is most anxious to meet you again." She -saw Nora's colour change, and added quickly, "I do -not mean an Englishman—a captain from the dragoons -in Karlsburg—Herr Rittmeister!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A tall figure in a pale-blue uniform disengaged itself -from a group of officers by the window and came -towards them. Nora recognised Bauer instantly, but -this time his good-looking face, with its expression of -almost insolent indifference, aroused no feeling either -of aversion or alarm. She determined to treat him as -she would have treated any other acquaintance, satisfied -that a great change divided the hot-headed child of -then from the dignified married woman of now. Bauer's -manner also reassured her. He kissed her extended -hand with a grave respect which was almost apologetic -and caused her to answer his greeting with an -impulsive friendliness worthy of a younger and less -experienced Nora.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Gersdorf nodded her satisfaction. She -evidently felt that two of her guests were settled for -the evening, and patted Nora's arm with a hand whose -white beauty was one of the few remaining traces of -the past.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You two can talk Karlsburg news as soon as Herr -Rebenski has finished his sonata," she said as she -prepared to bustle off. "He is one of my protégés—a -real genius, you know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bauer looked at Nora with a faint, whimsical grimace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Her Excellency has always a genius on hand," he -said. "It is part of her own genius—this 'discovering' -instinct. Apparently the latest belongs to the -piano </span><em class="italics">virtuoso</em><span> class. We shall have to listen in -respectful silence."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To confirm his statement, a profound hush fell upon -the assembly. Those who could find chairs sat down, -the others lined themselves along the wall and stood in -various attitudes of attention or indifference. Bauer -had discovered an empty alcove at the back of the -room, and from this point of vantage Nora studied -her surroundings with the keenness of her new vision. -She had written home of her "brilliant life" and had -not been hypocritical. For her it had at first been -brilliant. The resplendent uniforms, the constant -social intercourse, the courtly gallantry of her husband's -comrades, the ring of grand names—all these features -in her daily life had bewildered her, accustomed as she -was to the stagnation and general dullness of Delford -society. Now the thought of Miles's advent steadied -her critical faculties. She saw behind the first glamour -an almost extraordinary simplicity, a total indifference -to what she had always looked upon as the refinements -of life. These people cared for other things: the -women thought little of their appearance—they gloried -in their name and position; the men, beneath the -polish of their manners, were something primitive in -their tastes. Nora thought suddenly of her husband. -How little he seemed to mind the narrow dimensions -of his home, the ugliness of the furniture! How -satisfied the elegant staff-officer seemed with his supper -of cheap wine and sausage! Nora's sense of humour -won the upper hand. She laughed to herself, and -suddenly realised that the long sonata was at an end -and that Bauer was speaking to her under cover of -the renewed hubbub.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Gnädige Frau</em><span>, do you know why I am here -to-night?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora looked up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Probably because you were invited, and wished to -enjoy a pleasant evening," she said, still smiling at -her own thoughts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A pleasant evening!" he laughed. "</span><em class="italics">Gnädige -Frau</em><span>, in an ordinary way I avoid these festivities like -the plague. I came to-night because I had heard that -you were coming. Please, do not frown like that—the -statement is wholly innocent of impertinence. I -wanted to meet you again because I wanted to -apologise."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. Do you remember a certain morning in the -forest at Karlsburg—a few weeks before your return -to England? You were out riding with Captain von -Arnim, and I galloped past you. I was told after -wards that my furious riding had frightened your -horse and that but for your future husband's presence -of mind there might have been an accident. The -thought has troubled me ever since."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora felt a pang of remorse. She felt that she had -misjudged this man. Her previous conduct to him -appeared inexcusably childish and prejudiced.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You did not do it on purpose," she said gently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No; that is true. I did not see you until it was -too late. Still, I had no business to ride like -that—I was in the devil's own mood that morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With a reason?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; with a reason. Perhaps one day I will tell -you about it—but not now. Am I forgiven?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora nodded. She was reliving the moment when -she had felt Wolff's arm snatch her, as it had seemed, -from the brink of death; she saw again his white, -frightened face, and answered truthfully:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have nothing to forgive. You did me no harm."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No; I know," he said, as though he had divined -her thoughts. Nora caught a glance of his face in -the long mirror opposite, and was struck for a moment -by the bitterness of his expression. He looked less -indifferent than usual—almost disturbed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They say that if you give the devil a finger he -takes the whole hand," he went on after a pause, and -in a lighter tone. "Having obtained your forgiveness, -I now come with a request, </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"May it be as easily granted!" Nora answered, -laughing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At any rate, it is not for myself this time. My -sister-in-law, Frau Commerzienrat Bauer, has asked -me to be a suppliant on her behalf. Perhaps -you remember her? You met her at the Charity -Bazaar last month."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora shook her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am a disgrace—I forget people's names so -quickly," she said apologetically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My relation has a better memory—especially -for those to whom she has taken a fancy. She has -a special weakness for English people, and it seems -she is most anxious to meet you again. She has, of -course, quite another circle of acquaintances, and so -is driven to the expedient of calling on you herself. -Has she your permission?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Something in the request or in the manner of its -making jarred on Nora. She hesitated, not knowing -why, and Bauer went on quickly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know this form of proceeding is unusual, </span><em class="italics">gnädige -Frau</em><span>, and I confess I should not have undertaken to -be my sister-in-law's messenger if it had not been that -I had heard you were expecting your brother. The -two things do not seem to have much connection, but -it struck me that it might interest him—and perhaps -you—to see something of another side of German -life. There </span><em class="italics">is</em><span> another side, </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am very content with the one I know," Nora -answered. She was conscious of a rising -repugnance—and a rising curiosity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bauer laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is natural enough. You have married an -officer, and have made his set yours. But for your -brother it will be different. I know a little of English -life and of English tastes, and I fancy he will find -all this—this sort of thing cramped and dull, not -to say shabby. These people"—his tone became -faintly tinged with condescension—"belong to the -class which prides itself on being poor but noble, and -on despising those who have acquired riches. When -they have not enough to eat, they feast on the memory -of their ancestors and are satisfied. But there is -another class, thank Heaven, one which has taken -your people as an example, </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>. The great -commercial and financial potentates, who have flung -off the foolish, narrow-hearted prejudices of the -past—it is of them and of their lives which you should see -something before you pass judgment."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora rose suddenly to her feet. She felt vaguely -that a bribe had been offered her, and, what was -worse, a bribe whose cunning effectiveness had been -based on some instinctive knowledge of her mind. -All her natural loyalty rose up in arms against it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have not passed judgment," she said proudly. -"I should never pass judgment on a people to whom -I belong." Then the old impulsive kindness moved -her to add: "All the same, I shall be pleased to -renew my acquaintance with your sister-in-law at -any time convenient to her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She gave him her hand, a little ashamed of her -previous outburst, and he bent over it and kissed it -respectfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She left him, and he stood there stroking his fair -moustache and looking after her with amused and -admiring eyes. Nor was he the only one to watch -her quiet progress, for, little as she knew it, the child -Nora had become a beautiful woman, and the charm -of her new womanhood hung about her like a veil.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Later on, when the last of Her Excellency's protégés -had performed their uttermost, and Frau von Seleneck -and Nora had started on the home passage, the latter -ventured a question concerning Frau Commerzienrat -Bauer. She did not know why she asked, and Frau -von Seleneck's answer did not encourage further -curiosity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe her father had a big furniture-shop -somewhere," she said, "and her husband is something -or the other on the money-market. I cannot imagine -how the captain got into such a good regiment."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He may be a very good officer," Nora said, -conscious of a slight feeling of irritation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Seleneck shrugged her shoulders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He may be. At any rate, I know nothing more -about his relations." She lifted her skirts a little -higher, though whether to avoid contamination with -the mud or as a sign of her general disapproval was -not clear. "They are very rich," she added indifferently.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-visitor-arrives-in-karlsburg"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A VISITOR ARRIVES IN KARLSBURG</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The square-built house in the Moltke Strasse was to -let. A big notice in the front windows published -the fact, although the curtains were still hanging, -and the air of desolation which usually envelops -"desirable residences," or their German equivalents, -was not yet noticeable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Inside, the signals of departure were more evident. -The hall had been stripped bare of its scanty decorations, -and in the disordered rooms a person of obviously -Hebrew origin was to be seen roaming about with a -pencil and a greasy note-book, making a careful -inventory of the valuables. There was, indeed, only -one room where the bustle and the confusion had -been vigorously excluded and where the Hebrew -gentleman's foot had not yet ventured to tread. -This was Frau von Arnim's boudoir, and Hildegarde -had taken refuge there like a shipwrecked mariner -on a friendly island. She lay on her sofa with closed -eyes and listened to the hammering and bumping of -furniture over the bare boards. Only an occasional -contraction of the fine brows and a tightening of -the lips betrayed that she was awake, and that the -sounds were painful to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Arnim, who was working at her accounts -by the window, never failed to catch that fleeting -expression of suffering. It was as though some -invisible nerve of sympathy existed between her and -the invalid, and that she knew when the dull ache -kindled to poignant pain. For a time she remained -silent, ignoring what she saw. Then she rose, and -coming to Hildegarde's side, laid her hand tenderly -upon the white forehead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Does it cost so much?" she asked. "Does it -cost too much? Ought I never to have allowed so -great a sacrifice?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Instantly Hildegarde's eyes opened and revealed -a brightness that they had not shown since the days -when she had ridden at Wolff's side through the -forest, and known neither suffering nor loss.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's not a sacrifice," she said, taking her mother's -hand, and holding it in her own. "When I think of -what we are going to do, and why we are doing it, -I feel as though I were giving myself some selfish -pleasure and making you pay the price. After all, -from my sofa the world will look much the same in -Berlin as it does here, and if I am sorry to leave, it -is only because every room has its dear associations. -You see, on my side it is only a sentimental sort of -pain, which is rather agreeable than otherwise. But -for you it is different. It will be so lonely for you, -and I know how you hate flats—a suite of lofts in -a badly managed hotel is what you used to call them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Arnim smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have a bad memory in so far as it retains -foolish remarks, better forgotten," she said. "I -am sure I shall be very happy in our new home, and -in any case, I, too, have my pleasure from our 'plot.' I -have just been reckoning that if we are careful we -shall be able to allow them at least 1,000 marks more -next year, and that will make all the difference in -the world to them. They will not have to worry so -much over their pfennige at any rate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If only Wolff will accept it!" Hildegarde said -doubtfully. "He is like the rest of us all; and if he -thinks, as I suppose he must, that we are giving up -anything, he will call it a sacrifice and will refuse to -accept it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He will do just what I tell him!" Frau von -Arnim retorted, with a touch of half-laughing authority, -which threw a sidelight on her conscious power -over her entourage. "He will let me humbug him -because there will be nothing else for him to do. I -shall say that we have come to Berlin to be near -them—which is true; that we prefer the quiet quarters—which -is partly true; that we are doing our best to -spend our money, but that, do what we will, there is -always a trouble—some 1,000 marks over, which -won't be got rid of—which is not true at all. I shall -offer it him as an indirect present to Nora, and Nora -will secretly spend it on his dinners, and both will -be all the happier; you need not be afraid."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hildegarde's eyes flashed with amusement. She -loved her mother in her triumphant, self-confident -moods.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not think I was afraid—really," she said. -"I know by experience that you can twist most -people round your finger. And Wolff is no exception."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She smiled to herself, and there was something -wistful in her expression which Frau von Arnim was -quick to perceive. She bent lower as though she -wished to catch and interpret every shadow that -crossed her daughter's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you will be glad to see them again, Hildegarde? -You are strong enough? It will not make -you unhappy?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hildegarde shook her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is true when I say that I am longing to see -them," she said firmly. "I am happier—far happier -now than in the time when I knew that, crippled -though I was, Wolff would have married me, that I -had only to stretch out my hand, as it were, for him -to take it. It was so hard </span><em class="italics">not</em><span> to stretch out my hand; -I had to crush down my love for him, and throw -scorn on myself for daring to love at all. Every day -I was afraid that I might betray myself. Now it is -different. I can love him openly and honestly as my -brother, and Nora I can love too without bitterness -or envy as the one woman who could make him happy, -or who was worthy of him. So you see, dearest, -everything is for the best."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Arnim nodded, satisfied by the steady, -cheerful voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have your reward," she said. "Rightly -enough, Wolff traces all his happiness back to you, -and his love and gratitude are in proportion."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To his happiness?" Hildegarde suggested, smiling. -"In that case I ought to be more than satisfied. -Although, perhaps, for my sake he tries to hide that -fact, it is obvious from his letters that he never knew -what the real thing was until Nora became his wife. -And I believe it will be lasting. We know Nora so -well. We know how good and loving and honest she -is. I do not think she will ever disappoint him or us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And Wolff, of course, could not disappoint any -one, not even though he were advertised as perfect," -Frau von Arnim observed slyly. "So we need feel -no alarm for the future. And now I must go back -to my accounts."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a long unbroken silence. Hildegarde -seemed really asleep, or at least too deep in her own -thoughts to notice the significant rumblings overhead, -and her mother was frowning over the division -of income, or rather the stretching of income over -the hundred-and-one things necessary to the "keeping -up of appearances." The latter occupation had -been the constant worry of Frau von Arnim's life. -Her poverty had always been of the brilliant kind, -but it had been poverty none the less for that, and -now this change had come it was not even to be -brilliant. Not that she felt any regret. The -"brilliancy" had only been maintained as a sort of sop -to the family traditions, and now that the family -honour seemed to concentrate itself on Wolff, it -was only natural that the other members would be -ready to make every sacrifice to support him and -save him from the curse of pecuniary troubles, which -is the curse of two-thirds of the German nobility. -So the old home was to be given up, and the old -pill-box brougham and such of the family relics as -would find no place in the narrow dimensions of an -</span><em class="italics">étage</em><span> were to drift into the hands of strangers. Both -Frau von Arnim and Hildegarde, brought up in the -stern code of their old race, found this course of -events perfectly correct, and they would have done -no less even if they had not cared for Wolff. Thus -the frown upon Frau von Arnim's brow was caused -not so much by trouble or regret as by a natural -dislike for the consideration of pfennige, and it was -with a movement of almost relief that she looked -up presently, aroused from her unloved task by the -ringing of the front-door bell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That must be Herr Sonnenthal again," she said. -"He has probably come to tell us how much the -carriage has fetched. Would you mind if I saw him -in here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hildegarde assented, but her mother's supposition -proved incorrect. The untidy charwoman who put -in her head a minute later informed them that there -was a strange gentleman downstairs inquiring after -a certain Fräulein whose name she, the charwoman, -had not been able to grasp, and that, failing her, he -had requested the honour of a few minutes' -conversation with the </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span> herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Arnim looked puzzled as she studied the card.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think there must be some mistake," she said. -"However, show him up here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For some reason or other nothing was said of the -unknown visitor. It is possible that, as the wild -beasts of the forest have an instinctive prescience -of an enemy's approach, so we, in our higher world -of sensitiveness, receive indefinable warnings when -mischance is about to overtake us or a personality -to enter into our lives and change its whole course. -Certain it is that neither Frau von Arnim nor Hildegarde -were fully at their ease as their visitor entered -the room, and their response to his correct, somewhat -stiff bow was marked by that frigidity which seems -to ask of itself "Who are you? What do you want -with us?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hildegarde had drawn herself up into a sitting -position. The last two months had brought a marked -change for the better in her health, and with a revival -of the old strength had come a revival of the old -pride and sensitiveness. She hated a stranger to -see, and perhaps pity, her infirmity, and, moreover, -on this occasion she was conscious of an inexplicable -restlessness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was, at all events, nothing alarming in the -stranger's appearance. A tall, carefully dressed man, -with a thin sunken face, and a manner suggesting at -once breeding and embarrassment, stood in the -doorway, evidently uncertain as to his own course -of conduct. As the silence threatened to grow -awkward, Frau von Arnim took the initiative.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"From your card, and from what my servant tells -me, I judge that you are English, Captain Arnold," -she said, motioning him to be seated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The visitor's face immediately lightened, and he -advanced into the room, without, however, making -further use of her invitation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should be most thankful," he said. "If my -German had not been of such a negligible quality I -should not have had to trouble you. Indeed, until -I heard you speak I feared my difficulties were by -no means at an end. I hope you will excuse my -intrusion?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His sentences, like his manner, were somewhat -wooden, and not calculated to inspire any particular -warmth in his hearers. Having briefly introduced -him to Hildegarde, Frau von Arnim repeated her -invitation, which he now accepted, though with -reluctance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall be glad to be of any service to you," Frau -von Arnim said graciously. "English people are -bound to me by at least one tie, and it is always a -pleasure when I can assist any one of them. You -need not apologise therefore."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnold smiled, and his expression suggested that -he accepted her words as a formal politeness, and -valued them as such.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are very kind," he said. "At the same -time I trust that I need not trespass too much on -your good-nature. I must explain that I have just -returned from Africa, and Karlsburg lying on -overland route, I stopped in the hope that Miss -Ingestre were still staying here. Your servant, -however, did not understand my German, or did -not recognise the name——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The latter is certain," Frau von Arnim interrupted -calmly. "The girl was not here when Miss -Ingestre lived with us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Ingestre has left, then?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Already—some months."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Arnold rose abruptly. It was evident -that his mission was at an end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In that case I do not need to trouble you further," -he said. "I came on a mere supposition. Had I -not travelled so quickly I should no doubt have -heard from Miss Ingestre herself, but I have been -on the road night and day, missing, apparently, every -mail, and getting a good start on my own letters. -I shall now have to hurry on to England as fast as -possible."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you wish to meet Frau von Arnim your journey -will be in vain," Hildegarde said. "She is at present -in Berlin."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnold turned, and for the first time looked steadily -at the speaker. It was evident that the words had -had no meaning for him, but there was a curious, -apparently causeless animosity and distrust in her -steady eyes which arrested his attention and aroused -in him emotions of a like nature. It was as though -unconsciously they had hated each other before all -time, and that the hatred had now become a definite -recognisable quality.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You spoke of Frau von Arnim," he said. "I -am afraid I do not quite understand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hildegarde shrugged her shoulders. The movement -was slightly insolent and utterly at variance -with her usual gentle courtesy, but, like all nervous -invalids, she could be goaded beyond all self-control, -and something in this man's manner jarred on her -as presumptuous, overbearing, suggesting an -impertinent familiarity with the woman who was Wolff's -wife.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think you must undoubtedly have missed your -letters," she said; "otherwise you would know that -Miss Ingestre ceased to exist many months ago."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The next minute she regretted her own clumsiness. -The man's whole bearing and expression had changed. -His face was livid; it was obvious that he had a -hard task to control an extraordinary agitation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must think me very stupid," he said, and -his voice was painful to listen to. "I beg of you to -speak more clearly. You will perhaps understand -what it means to me when I tell you what you seem -not to know—that Miss Ingestre is to be my wife."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Captain Arnold, you are labouring under some -strange delusion. Miss Ingestre is already married."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was Frau von Arnim who spoke. She had -advanced almost unconsciously, and now stood -half-way between him and Hildegarde, who had risen to -her feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnold said nothing. His eyes were fixed full -on Frau von Arnim's face, but his expression was -absolutely blank, and he did not seem to see her. She -waited, too disturbed to move farther forward along -the path of inevitable explanation, and after a minute, -in which the man's whole moral strength seemed to -be concentrated in the fight for self-mastery, Arnold -himself broke the silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can only believe that there is a misapprehension -on both sides," he said. "Are you speaking of -Miss Nora Ingestre?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of Miss Nora Ingestre that was."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you say she is already married?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In April—five months ago."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To whom?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To Hauptmann von Arnim, at present officer -on the Staff at Berlin."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are sure of what you say? There is no -possible mistake?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Arnim's brows contracted proudly. For -a brief moment she had sympathised with, and even -pitied, his agitation. His rigid self-control, entailing -as it did an increased abruptness of manner, impressed -her disagreeably, hiding from her usually keen eyes -the fact that the man was really suffering. She -answered therefore, with considerable haughtiness:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is no possible mistake. You will see -that for yourself when I tell you that Herr von Arnim -is my nephew, and that I myself was at the wedding -at Delford."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnold bowed. His expression was now normal, -and it suggested no more than the calm interest of -an ordinary caller on an ordinary topic of conversation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are perfectly right," he said. "There is -no possible mistake. I am very grateful to you for -your explanation."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He included Hildegarde in his curt salute, and -turned towards the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Arnim detained him with a decided and -indignant gesture.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The matter cannot end there," she said. "You -have suggested that Miss Ingestre was engaged to -you at the time of her betrothal with my nephew. -It is a suggestion intensely offensive to us all. It -is now my turn to point out to you that you are -making a mistake—or worse."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnold coloured with anger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not likely to make a mistake of such -magnitude," he said. "Of your second insinuation -I need take no notice."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In that case I must ask you to be more explicit. -I—we have a right to an explanation."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Excuse me—I fail to see that any one has a -right in a matter which concerns Miss Ingestre—Frau -von Arnim, and myself alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The matter concerns my nephew and us all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnold smiled ironically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I regret that I cannot sympathise with your point -of view," he said. "In any case, I have no -explanation to offer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a blank silence. It was the more marked -because it followed on a sharp lightning-like exchange, -kept within bounds of outward courtesy only by the -education and upbringing of the conflicting personalities. -Frau von Arnim, usually armed with a kindly wisdom -which had sympathy for all sorts and conditions of -men, was brought nearer to a display of uncontrolled -anger than in all her life before. To her mind, Arnold -had, unwittingly perhaps, cast a slur upon the credit of -one who was a member of her family; and her family -was Frau von Arnim's fetish. He had done so, moreover, -without offering proof or justification, and the -latter offences deepened his guilt, though their omission -would not have shielded him from her enmity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnold, on his side, saw a haughty, domineering -woman who claimed the right to investigate a personal -overwhelming calamity in which she had no share, -and with which he could as yet only grapple in blind, -half-incredulous pain. He disliked her instinctively, -but also because he could not understand the motives -and principles which governed her conduct towards -himself. He continued speaking after a moment, -and his irritation was so intense that it helped him -to overcome, almost forget, his own misery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think there is nothing more to be said," he -observed, looking Frau von Arnim coldly in the face. -"It seems I have blundered, and it is only right that -I should bear the brunt of the consequences alone. I -am sure you will agree with me that it will be best -for this—what has passed between us—to be kept -entirely to ourselves, to be forgotten. It can only -bring trouble to others, and, as I have said, I am -alone to blame."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In spite of everything, he was thinking of Nora, -seeking to shield her from the results of his betrayal -of a cruel duplicity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Arnim was thinking of Wolff, and of the -woman to whom he had entrusted his happiness—above -all things, their name.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What you suggest is impossible," she said. "There -are things one cannot forget—at least not until they -have been explained. We must therefore look for the -explanation."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have none to give," Arnold returned, with bitter -truth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then we must look elsewhere."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It would be better to do as I suggest, and leave the -matter alone, or lay it to my account—to my own -stupid muddle." He spoke hurriedly, for he felt afraid -of this woman, with her haughty, resolute face. It -was as though, unwittingly, he had roused to action a -force which had passed out of his control.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If there is any shadow of wrong connected with my -nephew's marriage, it must be cleared," Frau von -Arnim answered. "That is the only wisdom I know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnold bowed a second time, and went.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a long time after he had gone the two women -remained silent, motionless, avoiding each other's -eyes. The action seemed to imply that nothing had -happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hildegarde had long since fallen wearily back upon -her couch. She roused herself then, and turned her -white, troubled face towards her mother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The man must be mad!" she said, almost -violently. "Nora could never have done such a thing. -She is so frank and honest. She would have told us -from the beginning. I could have sworn that she -never cared for a man before she loved Wolff. I do -not believe a word of it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nor I," her mother answered calmly. "As you -say, the man may be mad—though he did not seem -so—or there may really be some mistake. But we -must make sure, for our own peace of mind, and Nora -is the only one who can help us. Even so we must -have patience and wait. We have no right to trouble -her so early in her married life with what, I pray, -may be a false alarm."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must ask her when we are in Berlin," Hildegarde -said, in the same sharp, determined tone. "I -could not see her every day like that and not know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are quite right. When we are settled in -Berlin I will tell her everything that has happened. -Until then we must believe the best."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, of course—believe the best," Hildegarde -answered thoughtfully.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-cub-as-lion"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER V</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE CUB AS LION</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The express steamed in between the crowded platforms -of the Potsdamer Bahnhof, and from one of the -windows of a carriage labelled "Vlissingen" a rather -sallow face and a loud voice announced the fact that -Mr. Miles Ingestre had made his triumphal entry into -the Fatherland.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora, who had been threading her way through the -crowd, with Wolff's arm in hers, ran off and was -received by her brother with that English prosaicness -which has the advantage of being equally admirable -as Spartan disguise for rich and noble emotions or as -an expression of no emotion at all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hullo, old girl, how are you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well, thanks. What was the journey like?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Might have been worse. There were a lot of -beastly Germans in the carriage, so of course the -windows——" He caught sight of Wolff, who had -approached at a more leisurely pace, and his tone -shaded down somewhat. "Hullo, Wolff, how are you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They shook hands, and whilst the </span><em class="italics">Gepäckträger</em><span> was -bustling round in the search for the new-comer's -luggage, one of those painful silences threatened to set -in which are the ghosts at all meetings where joy is too -deep for words, or too shallow to stand much -demonstration. Of the three, Miles himself was the only one -who was sincerely in high spirits. They broke out -in spurts and seemed regulated very much by how far -he was conscious of Wolff's presence. It was evident -that his respect for his brother-in-law had gone up -several degrees since the afternoon when he had -criticised the latter's Karlsburg civilian clothes, though -whether that respect had its source in a juster appreciation -of his relative's character or in the knowledge that -Wolff was now master in his own country was hard to -determine. Certain it is that he did his best to be -amiable after his own fashion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I assure you I have been simply wild to come," -he said as they made their way together towards the -exit of the station. "It was as stale as ditch-water -at home, and I was getting fairly fed up with it all. So -I piled on my 'nerves,' as the pater calls them, and -dropped a few hints about the place, which the old -man picked up quite brightly—for him. He was really -quite game about it, and sent all sorts of amiable -messages to you, Wolff."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thanks. By the way, how long does your leave -extend? You seem pretty liberal with that sort of -thing in your Army."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles chuckled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My leave extends to all eternity," he said -enigmatically, and then, as he saw Nora's astonished face, -he condescended to explanation. "I've chucked the -Army, you know. I thought the pater had told you. -I was fairly fed up with the drudgery and the routine -of it all. It wasn't so bad at first. It gave one a kind -of standing, and as long as there was plenty of money -going a fellow could amuse himself fairly well. But -when the pater began drawing in the purse-strings I -had enough of it. Ugh! Imagine duty one half of the -day and trying to make both ends meet the other -half! No, thanks!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He shuddered, and Nora looked at him anxiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then what are you going to do afterwards?" she -asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go into some business or other—something where -one can make money as fast as possible. By the way, -Wolff, is it true that you are on the general staff?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; it is quite true, fortunately."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I see—great gun. Hard work, though, I suppose?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes——" Arnim hesitated, as though on the point -of making some remark, and then added innocently -enough, "Perhaps you would have found it less of a -drudgery than the usual routine, but scarcely -remunerative enough."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles glanced uneasily at his brother-in-law, and then -subsided, to all appearance suppressed, but Nora, who -walked on his other side, caught a fleeting grimace, -which was all too easy to translate into Miles's -vernacular. She was secretly thankful when her husband -had seen them both into a cab and closed the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall be home late to-night," he said. "Don't -stay up for me, dear, if you are tired."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He waited on the pavement until they drove off, and -Nora's eyes sought to convey to him an unusual -tenderness. There was indeed something remorseful and -apologetic in her manner which she herself could hardly -have explained. For the first time she was conscious -of being almost glad that he was not coming home, and -her sense of relief when at length the </span><em class="italics">droschke</em><span> actually -started on its way was so keen that she felt herself -guilty of disloyalty. "It is only the first evening," -she thought in self-defence. "They are such strangers -to each other. Wolff might not understand Miles. It -will be better when they know each other and are -friends."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where is Wolff to-night?" Miles inquired, breaking -in upon her troubled thoughts. "Any spree on?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is his </span><em class="italics">Kriegsspiel</em><span> night," Nora answered. -"He has to go."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles chuckled sceptically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rather good for us, anyhow," he said. "We can -talk so much better, can't we?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora was thankful for the half-darkness. The angry -colour had rushed to her cheeks. And yet her brother's -words, tacitly placing Wolff in the position of an -outsider as they did, were little more than a brutalised -edition of her own thoughts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hate it when he is not at home," she said loyally. -"Of course, to-night it is different, but as a rule it is -very lonely without him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you have plenty of people who could come -and see you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Y—es. Still, there are evenings when there is no -one."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you have got me now," said Miles consolingly. -He was busy gazing out of the carriage -window, and for a time the bustling, lighted streets -occupied his whole attention. Nora made no attempt -to distract him. She was not feeling very happy -not as happy as she knew she ought to be—and the -fact worried her. Presently they turned into a -quiet street and Miles sank back with a sigh of -satisfaction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It seems a lively enough sort of place," he said. -"I expect you have a gay time, don't you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am very happy," said Nora, with unusual -eagerness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, of course, but I meant gay—dances and -dinners and all that sort of thing. The pater ran -into some fellow who had just come back from a -trip to Berlin, and he said the officers had no end of -a time—were treated like the lords of creation, in -fact, especially if they had a bit of a title stuck on -to their names. Wolff is a baron, isn't he?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Nora abruptly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought so. Pater stuck him up a peg to this -chap and said he was a count. Barons aren't much -in Germany, though. They're as common as herrings."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">They</em><span> don't think so," Nora protested, hot with -annoyance. "They think a good deal of it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes—snobs. That's what this fellow said. However, -I don't mind. The good time is the only thing -I care about, and you seem to have that all right by -your letters."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora's brows contracted. In a rapid mental review -she passed over everything she had ever written home, -and reconsidered it in the light of Miles's possible -judgment. Frau von Seleneck gave dinners. There -were never more than four simple courses, whose -creation, she proudly admitted, was owed almost -entirely to her own skill. The orderly waited at table, -and it was a standing joke that somebody's dress or -uniform had to pay for his too eager attentions. Nora -remembered having written home that she had -enjoyed herself immensely, and she had written in -perfect truth. She had happened to like the people -on that particular occasion, and above all things Wolff -himself had been there. This wonderful fact of -Wolff's presence was indeed sufficient to colour the -most dismal entertainment in Nora's opinion; but -in Miles's opinion, she felt with painful certainty, it -would have less than no effect. He did not love Wolff -as she did, and without love her "brilliant life" -might, after all, be more correctly viewed as a hard if -cheerful struggle against necessity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is always something going on," she said -at length; "but you must not expect anything too -wonderful, dear. People in Germany live much more -simply than we—than in England, you know. And—we -are not rich." She made the last confession with -an effort—not in the least because she was ashamed, -but because—Nora herself could have given no -explanation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't expect you live in a loft," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora thought of their little fourth-floor flat and -laughed too—also with an effort for which there was -no possible reason.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The droschke pulled up with a grind against the -curbstone, and a gruff voice informed them that they -had arrived at their destination. Miles jumped out -and looked about him doubtfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a poky street!" he said, rather as though -he thought the coachman must have made a mistake. -"Is this really your house?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Our flat is here," Nora said. "We—we like it -because it is so quiet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then she was ashamed of herself, because she -knew that she had not been honest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles showing no intention of paying the coachman, -she paid him herself out of her own slender purse, -and they began the ascent of the narrow stone steps -which led to the heights of their </span><em class="italics">étage</em><span>. She knew -that Miles was rapidly becoming more puzzled, but -she made no attempt to elucidate matters—indeed, -could not have done so. Never before had she found -the stairs so endless, so barren, so ugly. The chill -atmosphere, which yet succeeded in being stuffy, -seemed to penetrate into every corner of her heart -and weight it down with a leaden depression. She -did not look at Miles when they stood crowded together -on the narrow landing, nor when her little maid-of-all-work, -Anna, opened the door and grinned a more than -usually friendly welcome. She led the way into the -so-called drawing-room and switched on the electric -light—their one luxury—half-hoping that some miracle -might have mercifully worked among the plush -chairs and covered them with a much-needed elegance. -But they stood as they had always stood, in spite of -the most careful arranging in the world—stiff and -tasteless as though they had come out of the front -window of a cheap furniture shop—which, in point -of fact, they had—and would not forget that they -were "reduced goods." Nora had a kind of -whimsical affection for them—they were so hopelessly -atrocious that it would have been uncharitable to -criticise; but to-night something like hatred welled -up in her heart against their well-meaning ugliness. -She had felt much the same when Frau von Seleneck -had first visited her, but that lady had burst into -such unfeigned raptures that the feeling had passed. -But Miles said nothing, and his silence was, if -exclamatory, not rapturous.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora turned to him. She was ashamed of her -shame, but with all the will in the world she could -only meet his wide-open stare with a sort of defiance -which betrayed that she knew already what he was -thinking, that she had even foreseen it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is the drawing-room," she said lamely. -"We don't often use it, though. It is not -as—comfortable as the others."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should hope not," he said. He was looking -around him with such real and blank astonishment -that poor Nora could have laughed if the tears of -bitter humiliation had not been so near the surface. -Bravely, and with the recklessness of one who feels -that the worst is over and nothing else matters, she -pushed open the folding-doors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The dining-room," she said, as though she were -introducing a poor relation of whom she was trying -not to be ashamed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles inspected the imitation mahogany table and -chairs with his eyebrows still at an elevated angle, but -now less with surprise as with a supercilious disgust.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is this where you have your dinner parties?" -he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora heard and understood the irony, and it gave -her back her nerve and pride.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," she said. "We do not have them often, -because we cannot afford them. When we do we -only have our best friends, and they find the room -big enough and good enough."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles made no further observation, though his -silence was a work of art in unexpressed things, and -Nora led him to their little </span><em class="italics">Fremdenzimmer</em><span>. She had -prepared it with the greatest care. There was a jar -of flowers on the dressing-table, and everything smelt -of freshness and cleanliness, but she had not been -able to stretch its dimensions, and it was with -unanswerable justice that Miles inquired where he was -expected to keep his things.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can keep one of your boxes under the bed," -Nora said in some confusion. "The others are being -put in the corridor. I'm afraid you'll have to go -outside when you want anything. I am very sorry, -dear."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right," Miles said, with sudden and -surprising amiability. "I'll manage somehow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora left him to make what toilette he chose, -thankful to be alone for a moment. She went straight -back to the drawing-room and faced each chair in -turn with an unflinching eye. Her shame was over -and her spirit was up in arms. In that moment she -cared nothing for Miles's opinion nor the opinion of -the whole world. This was her home—her and Wolff's -home—and he who chose to despise it could shake the -dust off his feet and go elsewhere. She could almost -have embraced the ugliest chair, and she was so proud -of her own loyal enthusiasm that she did not -recognise it for what it really was—the last desperate -refuge of her deeply humbled pride. She went about -her work singing to herself—a thing she rarely -did—and told herself that she was in excellent spirits. -It cost her no effort to leave the dining-room door -open whilst she laid the table. Let Miles see her! -What did she care? And if he jeered and asked -if she waited at her own dinner parties or covered -her little home with the wealth of his contempt, had -she not one triumphant answer?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Small and poor it may be, but it contains everything -I care for on this earth!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She felt so sure of herself that when her brother -entered half an hour later, she lifted a face from -which a happy smile had brushed away every sign -of storm and conflict.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How quick you have been!" she cried. "And, -oh, Miles, what a magnificent man!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He laughed self-consciously and glanced down at -his immaculate evening-clothes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not a bad fit, are they?" he said. "Poole's, -you know. I suppose you don't change here, do you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora flinched in spite of herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We do when we can," she said, still cheerful; -"but very often Wolff comes back so late that he has -no time to do more than wash and slip into his -</span><em class="italics">Litewka</em><span>. Poor fellow! He has to work so frightfully -hard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again Miles said nothing, and again Nora felt -that his silence was more effective than the longest -speech. But still borne on the high tide of her -enthusiasm, she went on arranging the knives and forks, -and only her burning cheeks betrayed that she was not -so entirely at her ease. Suddenly, to her complete -bewilderment, she found Miles's arm about her and -her own head against his shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor little Nora!" he said. "Poor little sister!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora gasped. He had never been affectionate in -his life before, and the tone of manly tenderness was -so new as to be almost incredible. She threw back -her head and looked into his face with mingled laughter -and wonder. He was perfectly serious, and for the -first time it dawned on her that there was a real -change in him which went deeper than the evening-dress, -that he had in fact left boyhood behind him -and assumed something of the manners and bearing -of a man, something, too, of his father, the Rev. John -Ingestre. Gradually her smile died away under the -undisturbed seriousness of his gaze.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, what is the matter, Miles?" she asked. -"I have never known you like this before."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He bent his head and kissed her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It struck me when I was dressing that I had -been a bit of a brute," he said. "I am awfully sorry, -dear. I had imagined everything so very different -that it fairly took my breath away, and I said—well, -what had no doubt been better left unsaid. I thought -you had humbugged us and I was inclined to be angry. -When I thought it over I saw how it all was and I -was awfully sorry. Poor old girl!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She caught her breath, seeking wildly for words to -answer him, but none came. She had been prepared -for and armed against scorn, not against this brotherly -sympathy! Sympathy! What had she to do with -sympathy? Sympathy was an insult to Wolff—an -insult to their love!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With an effort she tried to free herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't understand," she stammered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, I think I do," he interrupted. "I understand -all that you won't tell me, because you are such -a decent little soul; and I will say this and no more: -I wish to Heaven it had been another man, Nora, a fine -English fellow who would have given you a decent -English home. I wish it had been poor old Arnold——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miles, let me go!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She wrenched herself from his hands. She had -seen what he had not seen—Wolff standing in the open -doorway, watching them with a curiously pale, grave -face. Had he heard, and if he had heard, had he -understood? Nora could not tell. Furious with Miles and -with herself, she ran to him and put her arms about -his neck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, how glad I am that you have come!" she -cried incoherently. "You are just in time for supper. -How did you manage to get away so early?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He kissed her upturned face. Lips and hands were icy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I got special leave," he said. "I thought"—a -forced lightness struggled through his gravity—"I -thought it was not good manners to desert my -own table on the first evening. I am glad that I -managed—to come in time. I shall be ready in a -minute."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned and went into his dressing-room, giving -neither time to answer. Nora stared blankly after -him. She felt as though she had allowed some one to -strike him across the face without protest, and that -he had gone away, not angrily, but wounded—perhaps -beyond her powers of healing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a pity!" she heard Miles say behind her. -"I had looked forward to our evening together."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora turned. In her anger and desperation, she -could scarcely keep her voice under control.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do not talk like that, Miles," she said. "What -you think of Wolff does not matter. I am his wife, -and this is his home. Remember that!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles put his hand in his pocket and smiled. His -smile suggested a perfect understanding.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have said what I want to say," he observed. -"I shall not need to say it again."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="in-which-the-rev-john-receives-a-shock"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">IN WHICH THE REV. JOHN RECEIVES A SHOCK</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>A few days after his arrival, Miles wrote home in the -following terms:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"MY DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER,</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"I have landed safely, as you know by my -telegram, and I expect you are wondering why I have not -written before. As a matter of fact, I wanted to have -a look round me to see how things were before I broke -the news to you. I tell you honestly, if it were not for -Nora's sake, and because, of course, I want to pick up -some of the lingo, I should have packed up my -trunks and come home by the next train. You know -how Nora described things to us. You might have -imagined them living in palatial apartments with a -footman and I don't know what to wait on them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, my palatial apartment measured eight by -eight, and when I get out of bed I have to take care -that I don't fall out of the window or into the -water-jug. As to the footman, he is a scrubby-looking -orderly, who drops bits of potato down your collar -whilst he is serving and can't understand a word -you say to him. So much for my share of the -grandeur. There are four other rooms and they -have all about the same dimensions, and have -evidently been furnished out of some second-hand -place by some one who suffered from colour-blindness. -As to the atmosphere! Imagine a kitchen-range -with the fat in the fire and you have an -idea. Of course, Nora, being English, keeps the -windows open, but that's not much good, because we -look out on to houses in the front and dirty yards at -the back; in fact, I shouldn't think there was a breath -of fresh air for miles round. Well, I was fairly thunderstruck, -I can tell you, and I have been in varying stages -of that condition ever since.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My first dinner—I had an appetite like a wolf—would -have made any ordinary wolf turn tail. Nora -said she had had to leave it to the cook, and so -everything had gone wrong. It </span><em class="italics">had</em><span>, and the only -wonder is that </span><em class="italics">I</em><span> didn't go wrong afterwards. -The soup was a miniature salt-lake, the meat so -tough I couldn't get my knife through it, and the -pudding—I never got to the bottom of that pudding, -and I hope I never shall. It was a ghastly meal; Wolff -was as glum as an undertaker, and Nora as near crying -as she could be without coming to the real thing, and -I wasn't particularly sprightly, as you can imagine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"However, at last I got to bed—or the thing -which they call a bed—an iron affair with no -springs that I could find, and a rotten, puffed-out -air-cushion for a covering, which fell off five times -in the night and had to be fished up from the floor. -At seven o'clock—seven o'clock if you please!—I -was thumped awake by the orderly, who had -planted a five-inch pot of lukewarm water in my -basin. He jabbered a lot which I didn't understand, -and then of course I went to sleep again. At -about nine I yelled for my bath, and in came Nora, -looking awfully tired and worried. It seems she had -been up ever since seven slaving at the house—I mean -loft—trying to get it shipshape before lunch. After -a lot of fuss I got hold of Wolff's hip-bath and had -some sort of a wash, getting down to breakfast at -ten. Breakfast! Coffee and rolls! Coffee and rolls! -I wonder if I shall ever get a square meal again! -Wolff had already gone off and didn't get back till -lunch, when we had a new edition of supper (which, -it appears, had been extra grand on my account). -He doesn't seem to mind what he eats, and is always -talking shop, which, I am sure, bores Nora as much -as it does me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a beastly lot these German fellows think -of themselves and their beastly army! He talks -about it as though it were a sort of holy institution -compared to which nothing else mattered, and goes -clattering about the house with his spurs like a god -on wheels. Thank Heaven he is not at home much, -or we should be having rows in no time. Yesterday, -for instance, I came down at ten for breakfast, and -in the afternoon he spoke to me about it as though -I were a sort of raw recruit—said it gave Nora a lot -of extra work, and that he must ask me to be more -punctual. I held my tongue for Nora's sake, but I -longed to give him a bit of my mind in good English. -I longed to ask him why, if he is so keen on Nora -being spared, he doesn't see that she has a proper -cook and housemaid, why he lets her work like a -servant herself whilst he goes off and amuses -himself—as I know he does. He can't be badly off. His -uniforms are spotless, and he has a ripping horse, -which he rides every day. A lot of riding Nora -gets—except now and again on borrowed regimental -hacks! As to the theatre, she has only been twice -since they were married—it's too expensive in -Berlin forsooth! and I know for a fact that she has -not had a new dress. I suppose all Germans treat -their wives like that; but it makes my blood boil to -think that Nora should have to put up with it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As to their grand friends, I don't think much of -them. They all seem to live in the same poky style, -and the dinner we were invited to the other day -fairly did for me. We sat something like two hours -over three courses, each one worse than the other, -and the people shouted and jabbered as though -they were in a monkey-house. What with the -food and the bad wine and the row, I hardly knew -whether I was on my head or my heels. Wolff and -I had a bit of a jar about it afterwards. He said it -was </span><em class="italics">gemütlich</em><span>, or whatever the word is, and I said -it was beastly and that wild horses wouldn't drag -me into such a show again, whereupon he had the -cheek to inform me that I probably wouldn't be asked -and that he thought it was bad form to criticise one's -host because he didn't happen to be rich. Nora was -nearly in tears, so I held my tongue; but you can guess -what I felt like. Imagine that foreigner trying to -teach </span><em class="italics">me</em><span> good form! Of course, I know, mother, -that you had a weakness for Wolff, but you should -see him in his own home—a selfish, bullying martinet, -whose head I should be heartily delighted to punch. -Perhaps I shall one day. Don't worry about me, -though. I shall be able to look after myself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is one rather nice fellow here—a Captain -Bauer, who has been really decent to me and taken -me about. He has rich relations with some style -about them—if you only knew what an oasis -'style' is in this desert!—and I fancy they mean -to give Nora and myself a good time. Wolff tries -not to show how wild he is about it, though why he -should mind I have no idea. Besides that, I have -run up against some nice English fellows, and when -I can't stand things and feel in need of a square meal, -I go out with them and have a run round. In any -case I shall remain, for Nora's sake. At the bottom, -I believe she is wishing herself well out of the mess, -and so I shall stay as long as possible to help her."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In answer to this description of Nora's home life, -the Rev. John wrote to his daughter an epistle -fulminating in grief, reproaches, sympathy, and advice. -Let it be said in praise of his epistolary abilities, that -without ever getting as far as "I told you so!" he -implied that sentence at least once on every one of -the eight closely written sheets.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My poor child!" he wrote at the close. "I -cannot tell you how this revelation has shocked and -grieved me. Alas! I can hardly call it revelation, -for did not my father's instinct prophesy everything -as it has come to pass? I cannot but admire your -noble silence, your generous concealment of the true -facts of your life. I can understand how you wish to -shield your husband from all reproach, and I am the -last one to attempt to turn you from your duty to -him. Nevertheless, I beseech you, give us your whole -confidence. Let us help you to bear your burden, -and if it should grow too heavy, remember that your -home awaits you and that your father's arms are -always open."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Ingestre had added a brief note to this long -oration. The handwriting was less firm than of old, -as though it had cost an effort, but the short, concise -sentences were full of strength and insight.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Do you still love each other?" she asked. "For -if you still love your husband and he still loves you, -I need offer neither sympathy nor pity. You are to -be envied, and I pray only that you will let no -one—not even those dearest to you—come between you and -your great happiness. If Miles is stupid and troubles -you, send him home."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>This little note was first wept over and then hidden -away in a secret drawer, but the letter went to the -flames, thrown there by an angry, indignant hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How dare he!" Nora thought in a passion of -resentment. "How dare any one pity me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And she sat down in that same hour and wrote -home a protest and a defence which, it is to be feared, -was often incoherent and still more often lacking -in respect. But her intention was clear. It was -condensed in the closing sentences:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"No one has the right to criticise my husband or -my house. I love them both, and for me they are -the most perfect in the world. Those who really -love me will do well to remember this and spare me -both advice and misplaced sympathy."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>After which this declaration of war, she went out -to meet Wolff and greeted him with a delight and -tenderness which was almost feverish, almost too -marked. It was as though she were saying to herself: -"See how much I love him! And if I love him -nothing else can matter."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="wolff-sells-a-horse-and-nora-loses-a-friend"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">WOLFF SELLS A HORSE AND NORA LOSES A FRIEND</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In the broad Exerzier-Platz of the Grenadier barracks -a little group of officers were watching the paces of -a handsome chestnut thoroughbred, which was being -galloped and cantered past them for their inspection. -Occasionally they exchanged a terse criticism, but -for the most part they were silent, intent upon the -business of the moment. The shorter of the three -men—a somewhat languid-looking captain of the -Hussars—followed the movements of the rider with -a professional admiration.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Too bad, </span><em class="italics">Donnerwetter</em><span>! really too bad!" he -exclaimed, as Arnim at length rode up and swung -himself out of the saddle. "That one fellow should -have brains and a seat like that as well is a direct -injustice. But you are wasted on the Staff, my -dear Arnim; sheer wasted. They don't know what -to do with such material—the </span><em class="italics">langweilige Streber</em><span>! -But at the head of a Hussar squadron you would -cut a figure—</span><em class="italics">auf Ehre</em><span>, I would give a quarter's pay -to have you with Us, and I know a </span><em class="italics">Cavallerist</em><span> when -I see one. Here, let me try him. You would make -an old cab-horse step out!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff laughed shortly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By all means, Herr Graf," he said. "You will -find that the credit of the performance is more Bruno's -than mine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stood aside and watched the Count mount and -ride slowly off to the other end of the square. His -face had been flushed with the recent exercise and -the natural joy which a man takes in his own skill -and strength, but Seleneck, who was observing him -closely, saw that the momentary animation had -covered over unusual weariness—even depression. -There were lines between the strongly marked brows -which the elder man did not like. They were new -to Wolff's face, and betokened something more than -mere mental strain. They indicated trouble, and -trouble also of a new kind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With an affectionate movement, Seleneck slipped -his arm through Wolff's and led him a little apart, -as though to point out some special features in the -Count's equestrian performance. In reality he was -indulging in the grumble which had been choking -him for the last hour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a silly fellow you are!" he said. "You -have a horse which most of us would give our ears -to possess, and you sell it for about half its value. -I could hardly believe my senses when I happened to -come down on you in the middle of the transaction. -It was the shock of my life."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your life must be remarkably free from shocks, -then," Wolff observed grimly. "It was at any -rate one that I had every intention of sparing you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have no doubt. You looked glum enough -when I appeared. But that makes it worse. It -proves that you know you are doing a silly thing, -and are ashamed of it. Seriously, though, whatever -has induced you to part with Bruno? You told -me only the other day that there wasn't another -horse like it in Berlin."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That was perfectly true. But that is no reason -why I should keep such a paragon to myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seleneck took another hasty inspection of his -friend's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Does it hurt to smile like that when you are -losing your most treasured possession?" he asked -quizzically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You exaggerate things," Wolff returned, with -a movement of impatience. "If I find that I have -no need of a horse in Berlin, that it is both a trouble -and an expense, there is no need to immediately -adopt a tone of high tragedy. Besides, Graf Stolwitz -is giving a very fair price, from his point of view. I -cannot expect him to pay for my personal attachment -to his purchase."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If I did not know you as I do, I should think -you had been gambling," Seleneck said, in his turn -slightly ruffled. "At any rate, I am not going to -stand by and see the deed. </span><em class="italics">Auf wiedersehen</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff's ears, quick to catch and interpret every -shade of tone, had heard the irritation in his friend's -voice, and he turned quickly, as though shaking off -a weight of preoccupation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Forgive me, </span><em class="italics">lieber alter Kerl</em><span>," he said. "I'm -a bear this afternoon, and ready to snap off -anybody's head. Don't take any notice of me. And -don't worry about Bruno. Everything has its reason."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are working too hard," Seleneck declared. -"That's what's the matter with you. I shall speak -to your wife."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please do nothing of the sort," Wolff said firmly. -"In the first place, it isn't true; and in the second, -it would only worry her. Every man has his own -battles to fight, and every man must fight them alone. -Such is the law of things, and I am no exception."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If such </span><em class="italics">were</em><span> the law of things I should have -nothing more to say," Seleneck retorted, "but the -man who will neither confide in his friend or his -wife is running full-tilt against nature, and must -pay for the consequences. If I did not let Elsa have -her share of my fights, she would be perfectly -miserable—and with reason. I should be depriving her of -the one thing that keeps a woman happy—trouble."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are an ideal couple," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you—are you not an ideal couple?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course—ideal."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seleneck waited a moment, as though he expected -from Wolff's tone that there was more to come, but -the younger man remained silent, to all appearances -intent on watching the Count, who was walking his -purchase towards them. There was no irony or -bitterness in his expression, but also none of the -happiness which one might have expected from the -one half of an "ideal couple," and Seleneck turned -away with a sigh of resignation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think strategy and statistics and military -secrets have gone to your head," he said. "You -are developing sphinx-like habits which are too much -for my childish intellect. Still, when you want me -you will know where to find me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff turned, as though struck by a sudden thought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I want you now, Seleneck," he said quickly. -"At least, there is something I want your advice -about. You know, I suppose, that my wife's brother -is staying with us?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I heard something about it," Seleneck admitted, -with a sudden uneasiness. In truth, he had heard -a great deal about it—from his wife. Hitherto, -neither Nora nor her brother had called at the little -flat, and this deliberate, inexplicable breach of -etiquette had grown to be something worse than a -grievance in Frau von Seleneck's usually pacific -heart. But Seleneck knew himself to be no -diplomatist, and held his peace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I fancy that time hangs pretty heavy on -his hands. Of course, I am too busy to do much -in the entertaining line—and I have an idea that -I am too German for his taste. At any rate, my -wife is very anxious that he should see something -more of Berlin life—the social life, you know—and -that he should have a—a good impression."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can quite understand that," Seleneck said -slowly. "We'll do everything we can. Let me -see, Elsa was talking of giving a little dinner next -week. I'll tell her to include him in the invitation."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," Wolff answered. He was staring -hard in front of him, and an uncomfortable flush -had mounted his cheeks. "It's very good of you -both," he added, as though ashamed of his own lack -of enthusiasm. "As a matter of fact, Miles has found -entertainment enough for the present. He has -picked up with Bauer, who appears to have some -rich relations here. My—my wife has got to know -them too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, so I heard," Seleneck observed grimly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff looked up, frowning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is there any objection?" he demanded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know, </span><em class="italics">alter Junge</em><span>." Seleneck hesitated, -conscious again of a failing diplomacy, but goaded -on by a sense of duty. "The Bauers are immensely -wealthy, but they do not belong to our set, and Bauer -himself is not the sort of man to whom I should like -to trust a young fellow—or, indeed, any one," he -added almost inaudibly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean by that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seleneck faced the stern eyes with the courage -of desperation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I mean—I feel I ought to tell you—your wife's -intimacy with the Bauers is causing ill-feeling. It -is all nonsense, of course, but you know how it -is—people talk. Forgive me for putting it plainly—Bauer -has a bad reputation. They say he has already -escaped dismissal from the Army by a hair's-breadth. -It is well to be careful." He waited a moment, and -then went on, "It has been on my mind some time, -Wolff. I felt I ought to warn you, but was afraid -you might take it amiss."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff shook his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have only told me what I already suspected," -he said quietly; "and of course, now that I know, -I shall speak to Nora about it. She will see how it -is at once. It is all my fault—I should have taken -more care. And then, there is another thing——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it anything in which I can help?" Seleneck -asked, as Wolff again hesitated. "You know you -have only got to say what it is. There need be no -humbug between us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No; that's true."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seleneck waited patiently, seeing that whatever it -was Wolff found it hard to express the matter on his -mind. He was digging his spurred heel into the -sand and frowning, not in anger, but with a curious -shamefaced embarrassment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's this," he said at last. "You know how it -was, Kurt, when we first came here. Of course we -did the duty round of visits and so on, and went out -in a quiet way, but we kept as clear as we could of the -swell affairs. I made my work the excuse, and it -was quite an honest excuse, though of course there -were other reasons. Now I think it was a mistake. -I think, for my own advantage, I ought not to have -refused certain invitations—one gets a bad name at -head-quarters—or is passed over; and if it were -possible I should like to get back on the lists -again——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stopped short, and Seleneck stared at him in -puzzled silence. For the first time he had the -opportunity of studying Wolff in a state of thorough -confusion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course, that is easy enough," he said at last. -"But all that sort of thing entails heavy expense -and——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think the expense justified," Arnim broke in -hastily. "I am convinced that a certain outlay—a -certain ostentation, if you like—is necessary to a -rapid career. And I should be immensely grateful -to you if you would help me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But your work—and the money?" Seleneck -inquired bluntly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Both are my affairs," was the quick, irritable -answer. The next minute he repented, and held out -an apologetic hand. "I don't know what is the -matter with me," he said. "I'm not fit companion -for a savage. Don't take me seriously, there's a -good fellow, and lend me a helping hand this once. -I want it badly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seleneck shook his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As you have just suggested, you know your own -business best," he said gravely, "and I shall certainly -do what I can. My uncle, the General Hulson, is -giving a ball some time this winter. I and the wife -aren't going. We can't afford it. But I daresay I -could get you invitations; and once you are in the -tide you will be able to swim on for yourselves. All -the same"—he laid a kindly hand on Wolff's -shoulder—"I can only tell you what you yourself -know, that the officer who burns his mental and -financial resources at both ends is lost. </span><em class="italics">Es wäre -Schade um dich, alter Junge!</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't worry," he said. "I shall take care of -myself, and, at any rate—thanks for helping me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Hussar had by now finished his trial, and -Seleneck, with a general salute, hurried out of the -barracks. He was a sensitive man who felt a good -many things acutely which his brain did not -understand, and something in his friend's manner caused -him an unexplained distress. He knew that Wolff -had changed—his very actions were proof of the fact. -It was not like him to part with an animal to which -he was attached with the real affection of a good -rider for a good horse; it was not like him to seek -steps to his advancement in the patronage of his -superiors. Wolff had never been a "place-hunter." Whilst -always a favourite with those under whom he -served, he had not sought their favour by any other -means than his ready goodwill and the vigorous, -unsparing fulfilment of his duty. And now he was -talking of dancing attendance at every general's -levee like any common </span><em class="italics">Streber</em><span> for whom all means -are good enough so long as the end is attained.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seleneck sighed as he hurried homewards. Yes, -the change in his friend was there right enough, and -it had left its trace on the man's whole bearing. He -had been neither as frank nor as cheery nor as -self-confident as was his wont, and there had been a grim -determination in his voice and manner which warned -against all interference. Above all things, no laughter -and forced good spirits had concealed the fact that -he was not at his ease. His whole newly born gravity -had borne more the stamp of the stiff-lipped recklessness -of an adventurer than the sober determination -of a good soldier seeking a short cut to success; and -Seleneck, who felt for Wolff an ungrudging admiration, -boded no good for the future if the change continued. -"I have seen a few dozen fellows go like that," he -thought to himself, "and it has always ended in -breakdown. Only in their case it was horses or -cards, and I'll wager that neither play any part in -Wolff's trouble. I wonder what the devil is the -matter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was still wondering when he reached home, -after an unusually tedious and disagreeable walk. -More than once he had been tempted to take the tram, -in order to be quicker home to Elsa and the comfort of -shifting on to her willing shoulders the burden of -his doubts; but the consideration of expense held -him back. After all, trams become too easily a habit. -Two trams a day cost 20 pf. and six days amount to -1.20, and 1.30 will buy a bottle of Landwein good -enough for the little "evenings" which one is bound -to give if one is a good comrade. So Freiherr von -Seleneck had walked, and those who had observed him -had envied the immaculate uniform and the lordly -bearing, making no guess at the empty pockets of -the one and the entire innocence of the other. For -lordliness and Seleneck were unknown to each other; -and if he bore himself with a certain unconscious -assertiveness, it was because he wore the King's -uniform, and not in the least because he thought -himself a great man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Somewhat to his surprise and disappointment, his -wife was not at the door to receive him when he -arrived. The </span><em class="italics">Bursche</em><span> who helped him off with his -coat told him the </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span> had visitors and was -in the drawing-room. Thither Seleneck at once -repaired. Usually a sociable and hospitable man, he -felt he could have dispensed with guests in the one -hour of the day when he was certain of his wife's -undivided company, but his slight annoyance -evaporated as soon as he saw who the visitors were. Nora -herself occupied the sofa, and her fair young face, -lit by a faint, almost embarrassed, smile of greeting, -inspired Seleneck with the brilliant reflection that -she had no doubt come to confide the trouble, whatsoever -it was, to his wife's sympathetic ears. The hope -was immediately dispelled, however, by Frau von -Seleneck herself, who drew his attention to the -presence of a young man seated at the other end of the -room, nursing an elegantly booted foot with the air -of profoundest boredom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not think you have met before," she said. -"This is Frau von Arnim's brother—Mr. Ingestre."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seleneck accepted the languidly outstretched hand -with a feeling so akin to alarm that he caught little -more than a general impression of his guest's -appearance. It was not often that his good-natured, -easy-going wife rose to heights of real indignation, but -when she did, the signs of storm were not absent, -and he had recognised them all too clearly in the rather -high-pitched voice and flushed face. Moreover, he -became now acutely aware of a certain strained -politeness in the atmosphere which had hitherto been -unknown in the relations between the two women. -Once he even caught Nora's eyes fixed on his with -such an expression of trouble in their depths that he -was convinced something unpleasant had happened, -and became almost indignant with his Elsa, who -firmly refused to allow the conversation to flow in any -but the most cold and formal channels. The young -man took no part in the talk, halting and spasmodic -as it naturally became. He appeared to know no -German; and as Seleneck's English was of a limited -description, intercourse between them was more or -less impossible. Seleneck took the opportunity to -study this new arrival, of whom he had indeed heard -little that was complimentary; but his cautious survey -gave him no great satisfaction. In truth, Berlin -and the few weeks of unlimited freedom had not -improved Miles. He was, as always, scrupulously -dressed and had a certain air of the "man-about-town" -which contrasted with his otherwise uneasy -and rather boorish manners. It was a little hard to -imagine that he had ever held a lieutenant's -commission, still harder to believe that he was Nora von -Arnim's brother. There was no resemblance between -the two, as Seleneck noticed with satisfaction. Miles's -face was round and sallow, and he had a peculiar -trick of furtively glancing about him which was directly -opposed to Nora's frank and at that moment defiant -gaze. As a matter of fact, though his critic did not -know it, Miles had developed on his father's lines, -with the one difference that the Rev. John's habits -were those of a naturally nervous and diffident -character, whereas Miles, having no nerves to complain -of, had still a rooted objection to looking any one in -the face. As he sat, alternately staring at the carpet -and casting curious, supercilious glances round the -poorly furnished drawing-room, Seleneck passed -judgment on him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You drink, and can't stand it," he thought, and -then, remembering Bauer, added, "and probably gamble."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Which proved that Seneleck, though neither a -diplomatist nor a strategian, was at least something -of a judge of character.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At that moment Nora rose hastily to her feet. -The conversation had languished beyond hope of -recovery, and, moreover, she had seen something in -her host's expression which made her cheeks burn -with a curious mixture of shame and anger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We must really go," she said nervously. "We -have stayed far too long—I hope you will forgive us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is always a pleasure to see you, </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>," -Seleneck answered warmly. "You know that your -welcome is always waiting you. And that reminds -me—we are giving a little dinner next week—quite -</span><em class="italics">entre nous</em><span>, you know—and of course it would not be -complete without you and Wolff. And your brother"—he -turned to Miles with a bow, which was answered -by a blank stare—"I hope will do us the honour."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had spoken with unusual kindness, because he -felt that his thoughts at least had not been altogether -hospitable, and he had every desire to atone to Nora -as far as lay in his power. A cough from Frau von -Seleneck warned him that he had instead been guilty -of a mysterious </span><em class="italics">faux pas</em><span>. Nora's colour had deepened, -and she was playing restlessly with her gloves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's very good of you," she stammered. "Frau -von Seleneck has also asked me—it was very kind. -Of course I shall tell Wolff, and we will let you know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The puzzled officer saw a scornful, angry smile pass -over his wife's face; and feeling that he was altogether -out of his depths, he kissed the extended hand and -prepared to show his guests to the door of the flat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the general preparations for departure Miles -Ingestre awoke from his dreary contemplation of the -imitation Turkish carpet and, extricating one hand -from his pocket, proffered it all round with signs of -sincere relief. Frau von Seleneck bowed and ignored -the offer, and her farewell with Nora was marked -with a not less striking, if more inexplicable, rigidity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Five minutes later, when her husband returned -from his host's duties, he found her in floods of angry -tears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Mein liebes Kind!</em><span>" he exclaimed in despair. -"Whatever is the matter? Has anything serious -happened?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have been insulted in my own house!" the little -woman retorted, dabbing her eyes fiercely with a -minute pocket-handkerchief. "I should hope that -was serious enough!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Insulted! By whom?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By that—that English creature!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you mean Frau von Arnim? But, -</span><em class="italics">Menkenkind</em><span>!—she is your best friend!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She is nothing of the kind. She is a conceited, -pretentious, arrogant—oh! I don't know what, but -I know I hate her with all my heart. And as for that -brother——" With a determined effort she swallowed -down a torrent of adjectives and sobbed huskily instead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seleneck seated himself on the arm of her chair -and patted her on the shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps one day you'll tell me all about it," he -suggested, and waited patiently for results.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After a moment, the desire to tell her story -overcame the desire to have a good cry, and Frau von -Seleneck, leaning her head against her husband and -squeezing his hand violently at moments of more than -usual indignation, related the incidents which had led -up to this climax. It appeared, in the first place, that -Nora had arrived at an entirely inopportune moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was in the middle of making something extra -for your supper," Elsa von Seleneck explained. "I -shan't tell you what it is, as it is a surprise, and may -still turn out all right, though I should think it was -very doubtful, because Bertha is such an unutterable -fool. At any rate, had it been any one else I should -have been very angry, but as it was Nora I didn't -mind so much. I told Bertha to bring her into the -kitchen, but then she said she had brought her brother -with her, so I came out. Well, of course I wasn't as -tidy as I might have been, but—look at me, please, -Kurt. Is there anything in my appearance to warrant -anybody giggling?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seleneck looked at his wife gravely. She was very -flushed and hot, and there was a suspicion of flour on -the tip of her nose, which might have aggravated a -ticklish sense of humour; but Seleneck knew better -than to say so.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly not!" he said. "Who dared giggle, pray?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That—that boy!" Frau von Seleneck retorted. -"Nora looked fearfully upset, and at first I thought she -was ashamed of him, but afterwards I knew better—I -knew she was ashamed of me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear!" her husband protested.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's true—perfectly true. You wouldn't have -recognised her. You know how sweet she was when she -first came—so nice and grateful and simple—I really -had quite a </span><em class="italics">Schwärmerei</em><span> for her. Everybody -had—they couldn't help it. She won all hearts with her -broken German and her girlish, happy ways. Well, -to-day she was intolerable—stiff as a poker, my dear, -and as disagreeable as a rheumatic old major on half-pay. -I couldn't get a friendly word out of her, and all -the time I could see her studying my dress and the -furniture, as though she were trying to find the prices -on them. As for that boy, he went on giggling. Every -time I made an English mistake, he sniggered"—the -little woman's voice rose with exasperation. "He -tried to hide it behind his hand, but of course I saw, and -it made me so angry I could have boxed his ears!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pity you didn't," said Seleneck. "</span><em class="italics">Dummer Junge!</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That wasn't the worst. I tried to be friendly. -I asked them both to dinner next week—and what do -you think? She looked ever so uncomfortable, and -said she was very sorry, but she was afraid they could -not manage it. I don't know what excuse she meant -to give, but that—that boy went and blurted the truth -out for her. It appears that he had been to a dinner -party last week and had been bored to extinction. At -any rate, he said that wild horses, or some such -creatures, wouldn't drag him to another business like that, -and then he set to work and made fun of everything. -My dear, I don't know what dinner it was, but it was -exactly like ours will be—exactly, from the soup to -the cheese!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seleneck pulled his moustache thoughtfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He wasn't to know that," he said in faint excuse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But Nora knew, and she never said a word, never -even tried to stop him; and when I said that I thought -it was very bad manners to make fun of people whose -hospitality one had enjoyed, she flared up and said -that her brother was English, and that English people -had different ways, and couldn't help seeing the funny -side of things—she saw them herself!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seleneck got up and paced about restlessly. The -matter was more serious than he thought, and an -instinctive wisdom warned him that for the present at -any rate it would be better to keep his troubles about -Wolff to himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wonder what is the matter with them all?" he -said at last. "Of course, the brother is simply an -ill-behaved cub, but I confess I do not understand -Frau von Arnim. She was always so amiable, and -everybody thought Wolff the luckiest fellow -alive—except myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can tell you exactly what is the matter," his -wife said more calmly and with some shrewdness, -"Marriage, after all, doesn't work miracles, and Frau -von Arnim is no more German than I am Chinese. -She is English right to the core, and at the bottom of -everything she despises and hates us and our ways. -They are not good enough for her any more, and she -wants to go back to her own life and her own people. -It was all right so long as she was alone with Wolff in -the first few months. One didn't notice the gulf so -much, but now she has her brother to remind her and -support her, it will widen and widen. See if what I say -is not true!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's a very bad outlook for poor Wolff if it </span><em class="italics">is</em><span> true," -Seleneck said gloomily. "He is absolutely devoted -to her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nevertheless, it will end badly," his wife answered, -preparing to make her departure. "It is I who tell -you so. Race and nationality are dividing oceans, -and the man who tries to bridge them is a fool, and -deserves his fate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And with these words of wisdom she disappeared -into the mysterious region of the kitchen.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="rising-shadows"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">RISING SHADOWS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Nora sat by the window and mended stockings. There -was not very much light, for although it was still early -afternoon and the winter sun stood high in the heavens, -very few rays found their way into the fourth-floor -rooms of No. 22, Adler Strasse. As Miles had said -more than once, it was a poky hole. Nora remembered -his words as she worked, and she looked up and -studied the tiny apartment with a wondering regret. -Yes; it was dark and poky; but why did the fact -strike her so clearly and so constantly? Why was -she doomed to see everything and everybody with -another's eyes? For that was what had happened to -her. One short month ago, this place had been her -paradise, her own particular little Eden, and now it -was a "poky hole"—because Miles had said so and -because her common sense told her that he was -right. Had, then, the magic which had blinded her -against the reality ceased to act its charm—or -altogether lost its power? Surely not. Her eyes fell -on her husband's writing-table, with its burden of -neatly arranged books and papers, and something -in her softened to wistful tenderness. In her -imagination she saw him sitting there, bent over his -work in all-absorbed interest. She saw the thoughtful, -knitted brows, the strong white hand guiding the pen -through the intricacies of plans and calculations, the -keen, searching eyes which were never stern for her, -which, if they no longer flashed with the old unshadowed -laughter, were always filled with the same unshaken, -unaltered love. And she in her turn loved him. That -she knew. There, and there alone, her brother's -barbed shafts had fallen short, or had broken harmless -against the steeled walls of defence. Her husband was -still what he had always been—the one and only man -who had ever counted in her life. But there was a -difference. What the difference was she could not -tell. Perhaps just that change had come into her -love which had come into his eyes. It was still a great -love, still unshaken, but it had lost the power of glorying -in itself, of being happy, of rejoicing in its own strength -and youth and unity. When Wolff entered the room -her pulses quickened, but it was with a curious, -inexplicable pain, and when he went away she breathed -more easily. That most wonderful and rare of -moments when they had thought and felt and lived as -though they were one mind, one body, one soul had -passed—perhaps for ever. They stood on different -shores and looked at each other over the dividing -stream with sad eyes of love and hopeless regret.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How had it all come? Whose fault was it? Poor -Nora felt she knew. The spectre had risen in the same -hour when Miles had leant back in the </span><em class="italics">Drotschke</em><span> and -sighed with relief because Wolff had not accompanied -them. She had been angry at first, but the rough -words had revealed something to her which she would -never otherwise have believed, something in herself -which had lain dormant and which now awoke, never -to rest again. It was not Miles's fault. Had it -been, she would not have hesitated to follow her -mother's advice. But to have sent him away would -be a sign of weakness—and it would be useless. -The evil—whatsoever it was—lay in herself. It -had always been there, but she had not recognised -it. Miles had shown her what she must sooner or later -have seen for herself. She had married a stranger -from a strange land, and he had remained a stranger, -and the land had not become her home. That was -the whole matter. That she loved him, that his -country had offered her love and welcome did not -alter the one great fact that the faintest cry, the -faintest call from her own people had drawn from -her an irrepressible answer of unchanged allegiance. -She loved Wolff, but in every petty conflict between -him and her brother her heart had sided against him; -she had had a sincere affection for the Selenecks, and -in cold blood she knew that Miles had behaved -boorishly towards them; but she had grown to hate -them because they had shown their disapproval, and -because </span><em class="italics">he</em><span> hated them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In this strange, unseen conflict of influences Miles -stood for more than her brother; he stood for her -whole race, for every inborn prejudice and opinion, -and his coming had revealed to her her own loneliness. -She was alone in a foreign land; she spoke a tongue -which was not her tongue; she lived a life in which -she was, and must remain, a tolerated stranger. Her -seeming compliance had been no more than youth's -adaptability to a passing change. Her love and her -ready enthusiasm had blinded her, but Miles had torn -down the scales from her eyes, and she saw the life -she lived as he saw it—as a weary round of dismal -pleasures, big sacrifices, endless struggle. She saw -that her home was poor and tasteless, that her friends -were neither elegant nor interesting, that they had -other ideas, other conceptions of things which to Nora -were vitally important—that they were, in a word, -foreigners to her blood and up-bringing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It had been a terribly painful awakening, and in her -desperate flight from the full realisation of the change -in her she had broken through the circle which hedged -in her life, and sought her escape on the turbulent sea -of another, more gilded society. She had tried to -intoxicate herself with the splendour and popularity -so easily acquired. The Frau Commerzienrat Bauer -had received her with open arms, had showered upon -her delicate and sometimes indelicate attentions; -she had been fêted at the gorgeous entertainments -given in her honour at the over-decorated "palatial -residence"; she had seen Miles's expression of -contemptuous criticism change for one of admiration, -herself surrounded by the adulation of men who, -she was told, governed the world's finance; she had -heard the Frau Commerzienrat's loud voice proclaim -her as "My dear friend, Frau von Arnim"—and at -the bottom of her heart she had been nauseated, -disgusted, wearied by it all. She had come back to the -close and humble quarters of her home with a sweet -sense of its inner purity and dignity, with the -determination to make it the very centre of her life. And -then she had seen her husband's grave—as it seemed -to her, reproachful—face, the freezing disapproval -of his circle, the mocking satisfaction of her brother; -and the momentary peace had gone. She had felt -herself an outcast, and, in hot, bitter defiance of the -order of things against which she had sinned, had -returned thither, where the opium flattery awaited -her. But through it all she loved her husband, -desperately, sincerely. As she sat there bent over -her work, she thought of him in all the glamour of -the first days of their happiness, and a tear rolled -down her cheek, only to be brushed quickly away -as she heard his footstep on the corridor outside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How tired he sounds!" she thought, and suddenly -an immense pity mingled with the rekindling tenderness, -and shone out of her eyes as she rose to greet -him, like a reflex from earlier days.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked tired to exhaustion. The rim of his -helmet had drawn a deep red line across his broad -forehead, and there were heavy lines under the -eyes. Nevertheless, his whole face lit up as he -saw her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"May I come in, Nora?" he asked, with a glance -at his dusty riding-boots. "We have been surveying, -and I am not fit for a lady's drawing-room; -but if I tiptoed——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course you may come in," she cried cheerfully, -thankful that the light was behind her. "I have -been waiting for you, and tea is quite ready. Sit -down, and I will bring you a cup."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He obeyed willingly, and followed her with his eyes -as she bustled around the room. It was like old -times to find her alone, to see her so eager to attend -to his wants. When she came to him with his cup -he drew her gently down beside him, and she saw that -his face was full of tender gratitude.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You kind little wife!" he said. "It's worth -all the fatigue and worry just to come back and be -spoilt. What a long time it seems since we were -alone and since you 'fussed' over me, as you used -to call it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no reproach or complaint in his voice, -and yet she felt reproached. She lifted her face to -his and kissed him remorsefully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have I neglected you, Wolff?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not a bit, dear. I only meant—of course, one -can't go on being newly married for ever, but it -has its charm to go back and pretend; hasn't it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You talk as though we had been married for -years!" she said in a troubled tone. "And it is -scarcely seven months."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Seven months can be a long time," he answered -gravely. "It all depends on what happens."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had her head against his shoulder, and -suddenly, she knew not why nor how, she was -transported back to that magic hour when he had first -taken her in his arms and an unhoped for, unbelievable -happiness had risen above her dark horizon. In a -swift-passing flash she realised that this was the man -for whom she had fought, who had been everything to -her, without whom life had been impossible, and that -now he was hers, her very own, and that she had been -cruel, unfaithful, and ungrateful. She flung her arms -impetuously about his neck and drew his head down -till it rested against her own.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Wolff, Wolff!" she cried. "Are you so -very disappointed in me? Has it only needed six -months to show you what a hopeless little failure -I am?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You—a failure?" He passed his hand gently -over her hair. "You could never be a failure, and I -should be an ungrateful fellow to talk of -'disappointment.' You are just everything I thought and loved, -my English Nora."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The name aroused her, startled her even. Was -it only because it emphasised what had already -passed unspoken through her mind, or was it because -it seemed to have a pointed significance, perhaps an -intended significance?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why do you call me 'English Nora'?" she -asked, with an unsteady laugh. "I am not English -any more. I am your wife, Wolff, and you are </span><em class="italics">ein -guter Deutscher</em><span>, as you say."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He nodded, his eyes fixed thoughtfully in front of -him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I am German, bone and blood," he said. -"That's true enough. And you are my wife. I -wonder, though——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stopped, and then suddenly he bent and lifted -her like a child in his arms and carried her to the -big chair opposite.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now I can see you better," he said quietly. "I -want to ask you something which your face will tell -me better than your words."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had fallen on one knee beside her and was -looking her earnestly in the eyes. She bore his -scrutiny, but only with a strong effort of the will. -She felt that he was looking straight into the secret -places of her heart, that he was reading the pain that -her words, "I am not English any more," had caused -her and how little they were true.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell me," he said, "are you happy, Nora? Are -you not the one who is disappointed?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I? Wolff, how should I be? how could I be?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All too easily—sometimes I think inevitably. -I am not blind, Nora. I see how petty and small -your life must be compared to what you perhaps -thought—to what might have been. The people you -meet are accustomed to it all—at least they have -learnt to make the best of what little they have; -but you have come from another world and another -life. You are accustomed to breadth and light and -freedom. You have never known this brilliant poverty -which we know so well, and it is hard on you—too -hard on you. I have never seen it all so clearly as -I see it now. If I had seen it then I would have -trampled my love for you underfoot rather than have -asked so great a sacrifice. But I was blinded—I -did not understand——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff, have I complained? Have I been so -ungrateful—so wicked?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, Nora. You have been very brave and good, -but I have seen, and I have reproached myself -bitterly—terribly. When I came in to-night and saw that -you had been crying, I felt that I would do -anything—that I would give you up——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stopped short, and with a pang of indescribable -pain she felt that this soldier kneeling at her feet -was fighting for his voice, that his quick, broken -sentences had been the outburst of a long-suppressed -and bitter struggle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I love you, Nora," he stammered roughly. "I -love you with my life and soul and body, but if your -happiness required it I would give you up—to your -people——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff!" she interrupted passionately.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Listen, dear. I am not talking at random. I -have thought it all over. If I cannot make you -happy, I will not make you unhappy. I will do everything -a man can do to atone for the one great wrong. -Only tell me, whilst I have the strength to part with -you——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stopped again, and she felt that he was trembling. -There was something infinitely pathetic in his -weakness, something which called to life not only -her love for him as her husband but a wealth of a -new and wonderful tenderness such as a mother might -feel for a suffering child. She put her arms about -him and drew his head against her breast. For that -moment she forgot everything save that he was -miserable and that she had made him so.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will never leave you of my free will," she said. -"Never! You will have to chase me away, and then -I shall come and sit on the doorstep and wait for you -to let me in. Oh, Wolff, my dearest, what foolish -things have you been thinking, and how long have -you been brooding over them? Don't you know that -I could not live without you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He lifted his face, searching hers with keen, -hungry eyes, in which she read doubt and a dawning -hope.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that true, Nora?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; it is true!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Be honest with me. Am I so much to you that -you can be happy with me—with my people and in -my home and country?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had asked the question which she had asked -herself in moments of pitiless self-examination, but, -like her, he asked it too late. She answered now -earnestly, passionately, swept beyond all selfish -considerations on a tide of deep, sincere feeling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I love you enough, Wolff. And if there have -been any regrets, any longings which have caused -you pain, forgive them, my husband—above all, -understand them. They will pass—they must pass, -because, at the bottom, you are my all in all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He made no answer. He lifted her hand to his -lips, and in the movement there was a joy, a gratitude -deeper than words could have expressed. She felt -that she had satisfied him, and she, too, felt satisfied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus they sat silent together, hand clasped in -hand, his head against her shoulder, whilst peace and -a new happiness seemed to creep in about them with -the evening shadows. And in her young hope and -confidence Nora believed in this new happiness as -she had believed in the old. It seemed so strong, so -invulnerable, the obstacles so petty, so mean. They -had been swept aside in a moment, like sand-castles -before the onrush of the sea, so that it seemed -impossible, absurd, that she could ever have thought of -them as insurmountable. And yet, though heart and -mind believed in the change, another wider, less -definable sense, which we call instinct, remained -doubtful and fearful. It was the one sign that all -was not as it had once been, that they had only -outwardly regained the past. Once they had lived for -the future, longing for it in their extravagant youth -as for a time which must reveal to them new wonders -and joys. Now they clung anxiously to the present, -scarcely daring to move or speak lest the peace, the -outward semblance of unity, should be destroyed. -Thus they sat silent together, each apparently plunged -in his own untroubled reflections, each in reality -fighting back thought as an enemy who might -overshadow their victory.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was Arnim who at last spoke. He drew two -letters from his pocket and gave them to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The postman met me on the stairs," he said. -"One is a disappointment and the other the -fulfilment of a wish. Which will you have first?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The disappointment," she said, turning over -the letters anxiously. "I always keep the </span><em class="italics">bonne -bouche</em><span> for the last. But it has grown so dark that -I cannot see. You must tell me what is in both."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The one is from Aunt Magda," he answered. -"It seems that the doctor has ordered Hildegarde -a longer trial of the baths at Baden-Baden, so that -their coming will be postponed a week or two at -least. I am very sorry. I had looked forward to -the time when you would have them—to help you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the one faint intimation that he knew that -she still needed help and that all had not gone well -in the short period of their married life. Nora's face -fell. Her very real disappointment proved to her -how much she had longed for the two women who -had always been her friends, even in the darkest -hours. She loved them as mother and sister. She -had never felt for them the antipathy, the enmity -which had grown up between her and the Selenecks, -and, in lesser degrees, between her and all the other -women of her husband's circle, and she had longed -for them as for a refuge from her increasing isolation. -And now they were not coming—or, at least, not -for some weeks. She was to be left alone among -these strangers, these foreigners, with only Miles -to support and uphold her. Only Miles? She -remembered her husband with a pang of the old -remorse, and she bent and kissed him as though to -atone for some unintentional wrong.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sorry they are not coming," she said; "but -perhaps the baths will do Hildegarde good, and as -for me—why, have I not got my husband to turn to?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff laughed happily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"After that pretty speech, I must hold out some -reward, so that the practice may be encouraged," he -said, waving the second letter in triumph. "Behold! -His Excellency General von Hulson has done himself -the honour to invite his future colleague, the Captain -von Arnim, </span><em class="italics">nebst</em><span> his beautiful </span><em class="italics">Gemählin</em><span> and honourable -brother-in-law, to a ball on the 17th of next -month. Now, are you satisfied?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How good you are to me, dear!" She kissed -him, guiltily conscious that her joy had been but -a poor feigning. Now, for the first time, she realised -clearly how far she had drifted from her husband's -circle. She shrank from that which had once been -the goal of her ambition. Wolff laughed at her, -mistaking the cause of her hesitation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Verily, I am growing to be a wise husband!" -he said gaily. "Are all the fine dresses worn out, -that my wife's fair face should be so overcast? Well, -there! Is that enough to cover future expenses, -Vanity?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had pressed a little bundle of paper-money -into her hand, and she looked at it, dazed with -surprise. She did not know that it was Bruno's price -which he had given her, but again her eyes filled. -She pitied him in that moment more than herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You dear, generous fellow!" she stammered -mechanically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's not generosity, little woman. It's only -right that you should have change and gaiety. You -must not think that I do not understand how dull -and dreary it must sometimes be. I do understand—it -goads me sometimes to think how little I can -do. Perhaps one day it will all be better—when I -am Field-Marshal, you know!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He tried to laugh, but somehow a certain weariness -rang through his laughter. She heard it, and remorse -mingled with her pity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must not worry about all that," she said -gently. "I must be a poor kind of wife if I -am not satisfied as I am." She repeated her words -to herself, and felt that there was bitter truth in -them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment Wolff remained silent. She thought -he was resting, but presently he spoke again, and -she knew that he had been preparing himself to -approach a graver subject.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora, there is something I want you to do for -me, something I want you to promise."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked anxiously down into his face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it, dear?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I want you to associate less with Bauer—and -with Bauer's relations."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The one word sounded a defiance. Wolff rose -from his kneeling position and stood at her side, his -hand resting gently on her shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because he is a man I do not trust. It is not -my way to speak against a comrade or to accuse -lightly, but I have sure reason for asking what I -do of you. No man and no woman is the better for -Bauer's friendship."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Does that mean that you do not trust me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was angry now—without just cause or reason, -simply because she saw in him the embodiment of -all the prejudices of the class which had dared to -look askance at her. A grave smile passed over her -husband's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know I trust you, Nora; but in our position -we must avoid even the appearance of evil. Not so -much as a breath of scandal must tarnish my wife's -name."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, '</span><em class="italics">your</em><span> wife'!" she said bitterly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"——who is myself," he added.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a moment's silence before he went on:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is not only of you I was thinking, Nora. There -is Miles to be considered. He is very young, and -possibly easily influenced. No one can tell into what -difficulties—what temptations he might be led by -unscrupulous hands. Surely you sympathise with -me in this?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My brother is no more likely to act dishonourably -than myself," she answered, and again it was her -race rather than Miles that she defended. "Nor -do I believe Captain Bauer to be the man you -describe. He has been very kind to me, and I know -to what influence I must ascribe your prejudices. -The Selenecks have always hated my—my friendship -with the Bauers. No doubt they told you that -the Commerzienrat has stolen his wealth."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She regretted her words as soon as they had been -spoken. In her angry conviction that her conduct -had been criticised—perhaps justly criticised—she -had allowed herself to say more than she had meant, -more even than she believed to be true.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are not just to me, Nora," Wolff answered -quietly. "I have said nothing against the Bauers—I -know nothing against them. But they are very -rich, and it is their wealth which makes your -association with them undesirable. We are poor—our -friends are poor. We cannot entertain as they do. -And we belong to another class—not a better class, -perhaps, but one with other aims and other ideals. -You cannot belong to both."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At the bottom, you do think your class superior," -Nora interposed scornfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps I do—perhaps you do, when you are -honest with yourself, dear. You must know that -the Bauers' friendship for you is not wholly -disinterested. It sounds rather brutal; but those sort -of people who talk of money as the one thing that -counts and pretend to scorn family and titles are -just those who are most anxious to have a titled name -among their visitors."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora started as though she had been stung.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think you overestimate your—our importance," -she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did not retort. He simply held out his hands -to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora, you can't think it gives me pleasure to -spoil anything for you. Won't you trust me? Won't -you give me your promise?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked at him; she was honest enough to -acknowledge to herself that he had been right, but -above all, his patience, his quiet tone of pleading -had moved and softened her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I give you my promise, Wolff."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, dear. Goodness knows, I will try -and make it up to you in all I can."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He kissed her, and then suddenly she drew away -from him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't need to make up for it. And I think, -after all, I won't go to the Hulsons."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked at her in blank surprise. He had sold -his favourite horse to satisfy her needs, he had humbled -his pride, laid himself open to the accusation of being -a "place-hunter" in order to be able to lead her -into the brilliant world after which she had once -craved, and now that the sacrifices had been brought -she would have none of them. He did not -understand—as how should he have done?—that she saw -in his action an attempt to bribe her, in his gift a -sweetmeat offered to a disappointed child. He felt, -instead—though he would not have admitted it even in his -thoughts—that she had been capricious, inconsiderate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned away and went over to the writing-table, -throwing down the two letters with a gesture -of weariness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We must go now, whether we want to or not," -he said. "I have worried for the invitation, and it -is impossible to refuse. The Selenecks would have -every right to be offended."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They are that already," Nora said bitterly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps they have some reason to be, dear." He -spoke quietly, but he had implied that the fault -was hers, and the angry blood rushed to her -cheeks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Selenecks are absurd and ridiculously sensitive," -she said. "They have chosen to take offence -at nothing, and——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora, they are my best friends!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that any reason why they should be mine?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I think so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And if I do not like them—if I find their manners -and ways too different to mine—what then?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a faint sneer in tone and look which -was intentional, and which she knew was undeserved, -but she could not help herself. She hated the Selenecks -and the whole crowd of small military nobodies -struggling for advancement and their daily bread. -Why should she be forced to live her life amongst them?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff made no answer to her question. He was -sufficiently calm to feel with its full poignancy how -fleeting and unstable their newly won happiness -had been. The barrier was raised again—the more -formidable because it had been once so easily -overcome. Yet, with the tenacity of despair he clung to -the appearance of things, and kept his teeth -tight-clenched upon an angry, bitter retort. He was spared -all further temptation. The door-bell rang, and -he turned to Nora with a quiet question as though -nothing had happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that Miles, or is he at home?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is Miles, probably. He has been out all the -afternoon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She, too, had recovered her self-possession and was -grateful to him for having ignored her outburst. -Nevertheless she knew that he would not forget, any -more than she would be able to do.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where has he been, do you know?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not sure. He found it very dull here, and -went out with some English friends he has picked up. -Is there any harm in that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again the same note of sneering defiance! Wolff -kept his face steadily averted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not so far. But I do not like his English friends."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose not," she retorted. "Everybody here -hates us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Us——?" He turned at last and looked at her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"——the English, I mean," she stammered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had no opportunity to reply. The door opened, -and their little maid-of-all-work entered, bearing a -card.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A gentleman to see the </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>," she said. -"Shall I show him in?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora took the card. She looked at it a long time. -Even in the half-darkness her pallor was so intense -that it caught Wolff's attention. He saw her stretch -out her hand blindly as though seeking support.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it? What is the matter?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She lifted her eyes to his, staringly, stupidly. He -felt that she hardly saw him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing—it is an old friend—from England."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sound of her own voice seemed to bring her to -her senses. She handed him the card, and her manner -from stunned bewilderment changed to something that -was intensely defiant. There was a moment's silence. -Then Arnim turned to the waiting servant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Show him in here," he ordered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff—how do you know I wish to see him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"An old friend—who has come so far to see you? -You surely cannot do otherwise. Besides, why should -you not want to see him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked at her in steady surprise, so that the -suspicion which for one moment had flashed up in her -mind died down as quickly as it had come. </span><em class="italics">He did -not know—he could not know</em><span>. But the consciousness -of coming disaster weighed upon her like a crushing -burden.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is no reason. Only I thought you might -not wish it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your friends are my friends," he answered gravely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then the door opened a second time, and Robert -Arnold stood on the threshold.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="arnold-receives-his-explanation"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">ARNOLD RECEIVES HIS EXPLANATION</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>A great physical change had come over him in the few -months of his absence. He was pale and gaunt-looking, -as though he had but lately risen from a serious illness, -and his eyes, which fell at once on Nora's face, were -hollow and heavily underlined.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora noticed these details with the sort of mechanical -minuteness of a mind too stunned to grasp the full -magnitude of the situation. One side of her intellect -kept on repeating: "Why has he come? Why has he -come?" whilst the other was engrossed in a trivial -catalogue of the changes in his appearance. "He -stoops more—he is thinner," she thought, but she -could not rouse herself to action. Arnold, indeed, -gave her little opportunity. After the first moment's -hesitation he advanced and held out his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I ought to have let you know of my coming, Nora," -he said, "but I could not wait. I have just arrived -in Berlin, and of course my first visit had to be to you. -I hope I have not chosen an inconvenient time?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was trying to speak conventionally, and was -successful, insomuch that Nora understood that she -had at present nothing to fear from him. Not that -she felt any fear now that the first shock was over. It -was with a certain dignity and resolution that she -looked from one man to the other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is my husband, Robert," she said, "and this, -Wolff, is my old playfellow, Captain Arnold."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff held out his hand frankly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am glad to meet you," he said. "I am glad for -my wife's sake when she has the chance of seeing her -old friends. I hope, therefore, that your stay in Berlin -is to be a long one?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnold bowed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am on my way home to England," he said. -"How long I remain depends on circumstances."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"May the circumstances be favourable, then!" -Wolff returned. His tone was warm—almost -anxiously friendly, and Nora looked at him in surprise -and gratitude. His smiling face betrayed no sign of -the devil which he had grappled with and overcome -in one short moment of struggle. He nodded -cheerfully at her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am afraid you must play hostess alone for a little, -dear," he said. "Captain Arnold, as a soldier you -will understand that duty can't be neglected, and you -will excuse me. I have no doubt you will have a -great deal to talk about, and at supper-time I shall -hope to have the pleasure of meeting you again. Whilst -you are in Berlin you must consider this your </span><em class="italics">pied-à-terre</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are very kind," Arnold stammered. Like -Nora, he too was impressed—uncomfortably -impressed—by the impetuous hospitality with which -Wolff greeted him. Like Nora, also, he had no means -of knowing that it was the natural revolt of a -generous nature from the temptings of jealousy and -suspicion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff had lighted a small lamp, which he carried -with him to the door, together with a bundle of -documents. For a moment he hesitated, looking back at -Nora, and the light thrown up into his face revealed -an expression of more than usual tenderness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't talk yourself tired, Frauchen," he said as -he went out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora smiled mechanically. She had had the feeling -that the words were nothing, that he had tried to -convey an unspoken message to her which she had -neither understood nor answered. She gave herself -no time to think over it. She switched on the electric -light, and turned to Arnold, who was still standing -watching her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down, Robert," she said. "As Wolff said, we -have a great deal to say to each other—at least, I -fancy you have come because you have a great deal -to say to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her words contained a slight challenge, which, the -next moment, she felt had been out of place. Arnold -sank down in the chair nearest to hand. It was as -though he had hitherto been acting a part, and now -let the mask fall from a face full of weary hopelessness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are right," he said. "I have something to -say, Nora—I suppose, though, I ought to call you -Frau von Arnim?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You ought," she answered, irritated by his tone. -"But it does not matter. I don't think Wolff minded."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A grim smile passed over Arnold's lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff seems a good-natured sort of fellow," he said. -There was again something disparaging in his tone -which brought the colour to Nora's cheeks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is everything I could wish," she answered -proudly. And then the hollow cheeks and sunken -eyes reminded her that she had done this man a cruel -injury, and her heart softened with pity and remorse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How pale and thin you have grown!" she -exclaimed. "Have you been ill?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very ill," he answered. "I caught some swamp -fever or other out there in the wilds, and it was months -before they could get me back to the coast. That is -why you never heard from me. As soon as I reached -port I set straight off for home—to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To me——!" she repeated blankly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; to the woman I believed was to be my wife."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you never got my second letter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you write a second letter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was looking her earnestly in the eyes, and there -was a stifled, tragic wretchedness in his own which -was terrible to look on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wrote and explained everything," Nora, answered, -controlling her voice with an effort. "I have behaved -badly to you, but not so badly as to leave you -undeceived."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You sent me an explanation," he said slowly. -"Nora, it is that explanation which I have come to -seek. When I first heard of your marriage, I made -up my mind that you were not worth suffering for. -I thought that I would go back to the forest and forget -you—if I could. I meant never to see you again—I -felt I could not bear it. But, Nora, a man's love is -not only a selfish desire for possession. If he loves -truly, he puts into that love something of himself which -is a vital part of his life and being—his ideals and his -whole trust. I suffered—not only because I had lost -you, but because I had lost my faith in every one. You -seemed so good and true, Nora. I felt I could never -trust another woman again. That was unbearable. -For my own sake I had to come and ask you—if you -could explain."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stopped abruptly, and there was a little silence. -He had spoken without passion, simply in that weary -monotone of those who have risen from great physical -or mental suffering; and Nora's heart ached with the -knowledge that she alone had brought this ruin upon him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You said, 'When I first heard of your marriage,'" -she began at last. "When and how was that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"From Frau von Arnim," he answered. "I thought -you might still be with her at Karlsburg, and the place -lay on my route. It was Frau von Arnim who told me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then—she knows everything?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He saw the alarm on her face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As much as I know. Forgive me, Nora; it was -inevitable—I could not believe what she told me. I -am the more sorry because she is a hard, cold woman -who will make trouble. That is another reason why -I have come. I wanted to warn you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora made a quick gesture—half of dissent, half of -doubt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You misjudge her," she said. "She will forgive -and understand, as you must. Oh, Robert, it makes -me miserable to think I have caused you so much pain, -but if I had to live my life again I could not have acted -otherwise than I did!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her voice had grown firmer, and as she spoke she -turned from her position by the window and faced -him with quiet confidence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I acted for what I believed to be the best, -Robert," she said. "It was perhaps wrong what I -did, but I did not mean it to be—I meant to be just -and honourable. But I was not strong enough. -That was my one fault."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her clear, earnest tones brought back the light to -the tired eyes that watched her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am glad," he said. "I am glad that you can -explain. That is all I have come for, Nora—to hear -from your own lips that you are not ashamed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not ashamed," she answered steadily. And -then, in a few quick sentences she told him everything -that had led up to that final moment when Wolff -had taken her in his arms and the whole world had -been forgotten. As she spoke, the past revived before -her own eyes, and she felt again a faint vibration of -that happiness which had once seemed immortal, -indestructible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I did not deceive you," she said at last, with -convincing sincerity. "I wrote and told you that I -would marry you—not that I loved you. I knew I -did not love you, because my love was given -elsewhere. I loved Wolff already then, but there was a -barrier between us which I believed to be insurmountable. -I consented to become your wife because it -seemed the best and safest thing to do. Afterwards—it -was almost immediately afterwards—the barrier -proved unavailing against our love, and I forgot -you. That is the brutal truth. I forgot you until -it was too late, because, you see, I did not feel more -for you than friendship, and because I really loved. -That was weak, no doubt, but I had never loved -before, and it was too strong for me. A wiser woman -would have waited until she was free. She would -have written to you and told you that it was all a -mistake. I wrote to you afterwards. That is the -only difference. The letter did not reach you, and -you believed the worst of me. It was only natural, -and I know I am to blame, but oh! if you really love, -surely you can understand?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He smiled at her unconscious cruelty, and, rising, -took the outstretched hands in his.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do understand," he said, "and the blame is all -mine. I should never have accepted your generous -gift of yourself without your love. I might have -known that it would end badly. But you were so -young, dear. I thought I should be able to teach you -to love. Well, some one else was cleverer and had -a better chance, perhaps, than I had. I have no -right to blame, nor do you need to feel any remorse -on my account. The worst wound is healed now that -I can understand. My one prayer is that you may -be very, very happy." He studied her upturned -face. "You are happy, aren't you, Nora?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For the shortest part of a minute she wavered. -She repeated the question to herself and wondered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, of course I am happy," she replied almost -impatiently. "Why should I not be?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know. Perhaps I am over-anxious for -you. You see"—his faint smile betrayed how deep -his emotion was, in spite of all self-control—"I -still love you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am glad," she answered frankly. "I care for -you too, Robert, quite enough to make me very sad -if I should lose your regard. It made me miserable -to think that you probably hated and despised me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I never did that, though I believe I tried," he -said. "And now that I may not give you my love, -I may at least feel that I am your friend? Grant -me that much, Nora. It is very little that I -ask—your trust and friendship."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was indeed very little that he asked, and he had -been more generous to her than she could have ever -dared to hope. And yet she hesitated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora!" he cried "Surely I have not deserved -to lose everything!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was pleading as a beggar might have pleaded -for the crumbs beneath the table, and all that was -generous in her responded. The hesitation, the -vague uneasiness passed. She gave him her hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course! We have always been friends—we -must always be friends."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, dear. That is a great deal to me. -No other woman will ever come into my life."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't!" she exclaimed, painfully moved. "You -make me feel that I have spoilt your life."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you haven't, Nora. You are just the only -woman I could ever have loved, and if I had not met -you I should be even lonelier than I am. At least I -have your friendship."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His tone was composed, almost cheerful, but she -felt that he was at the end of his strength, and when, -after a quick pressure of the hand, he went towards -the door, she made no effort to recall him. Her own -voice was strangled, and perhaps her face revealed -more than she knew, more than she was actually -conscious of feeling—a regret, an appeal, an almost -childish loneliness. As though answering an -unexpected cry of pain, he turned suddenly and looked -at her. He saw the all-betraying tears, and the next -minute he had come back to her side and had taken -her hands and kissed them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must not!" he said gently. "You are to -be happy—as I am. Forgive me; it is the seal upon -our friendship—and a farewell."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had not resisted. She would have forgiven him, -because she understood; she would have put the -moment's surrender to passion from her memory as -something pardoned, but fate took the power of -forgiving and forgetting from her. For the door had -opened, and Miles stood on the threshold, watching -them with an expression of blank amazement on his -flushed, excited face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnold turned, too late conscious that they were -not alone, and Miles's amazement changed to a loud -delight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If it isn't old Arnold!" he exclaimed, flinging -coat and hat on to the nearest chair and stretching out -an unsteady hand. "Why, we thought you were -dead and buried in some African wilderness, didn't -we, Nora?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You were not far wrong, then," Arnold answered. -"I was pretty well done for once, and am only just -beginning to feel that I really belong to this world -again." He had recovered his self-possession with an -effort, and he went on quickly, almost as though he -were afraid of Miles's next words: "I was on my way -home, and took Berlin as a break. Of course I had -to come and see you all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Decent of you," he said thickly. "Nora will be -glad to have you in this foreign hole. It's a -sickening shame——" He stumbled and reeled up against -Arnold with an impatient curse. The momentary -excitement over the unexpected arrival had passed, -leaving him bemuddled, in a dull but unmistakable -state of intoxication. Arnold took him by the arm -and helped him to the nearest chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are a young fool," he said good-naturedly. -"German beer isn't so harmless as you seem to think. -What have you been doing with yourself?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles passed his hand over his forehead with a -helpless movement, as though he were awakening -from a dream.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's not the drink," he stammered. "It's not -the drink, I tell you. It's—it's the money. I'm -in a devil of a mess. These dirty foreigners——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, hush!" Nora cried. For the moment -disgust and anger had passed. She had heard Wolff's -footstep in the adjoining room, and a sudden terror -had come over her. "Robert, take him away—quick! -And come back afterwards—Wolff may not -ask for him whilst you are here. Oh, help me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnold nodded silently. He lifted the hapless -Miles and half dragged, half carried him from the room. -He had no thought as yet of the future. It had been -revealed to him in a flash that all was not well in -Nora's life; he had seen something like despair in -her face, and knew that she needed the strong hand -of a friend.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I am that—nothing else," he thought as he -closed Miles's door behind him. "No one can blame -me if I claim the rights of friendship and help -her—no one!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Captain Robert Arnold, sure of his own honour, -forgot that the world, being less honourable, might -also be of another opinion.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="nemesis"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER X</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">NEMESIS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was her at-home day. As she sat there, with her -hands clasped listlessly on her lap, it seemed as -though in imagination she saw the ghosts of other -days arise—days where the little room had been -crowded with eager, chattering friends who had come -to tell her and each other the latest news of their -servants, their husbands or the service, or to be -"intellectual," as the case might be. She thought -she saw Frau von Seleneck seated on the sofa opposite -her, her round, rosy face bright with an irrepressible -optimism; she thought she heard the rich, contented -chuckle, and felt the maternal pat upon her arm. -Then her vision cleared, and the ghosts vanished. -The little room was empty of all but shadows, and she -was alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently the door of her husband's study opened. -She heard him come towards her, and knew that he -was standing at her side; but she did not look up. -She felt for the moment too listless, too weary, above -all too proud to let him see how deeply her new -isolation wounded her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All alone, dear?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, all alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought it was your at-home day?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She tried to laugh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, so it is. But no one has come, you see."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How is that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then she looked up at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know quite well. Everybody hates me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora! That is not true."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is quite true. The Selenecks have taken care -that none of my misdeeds should go forgotten. They -can't forgive my—my intimacy with other people, -or my nationality."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your nationality?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She got up with an impetuous, angry movement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, my nationality."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stood looking at her. A new expression had -come into his grave face—an expression of sudden -understanding, of indescribable pain. Then he came -towards her and put his arm about her shoulders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My little wife, don't, for God's sake, don't let that -come between us! Be brave, fight it down. It will -only be for a time. Our—my people are easily hurt. -They think, perhaps, you despise them for their sober -ways—that they are not good enough for you. Be -kind to them, and they will come back. They would -forgive you anything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She drew back from him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not want their forgiveness. I do not want -them. I am happiest alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He made no answer, but went slowly towards the -door. She knew that she had hurt him, and in her -bitterness and wounded pride it gave her a painful -satisfaction to know that he too suffered. Yet she -loved him; she knew, as he stood there with bent -head, that she would give her life for him—only she -could not surrender herself, her individuality, the old -ties of blood and instinct. She could not, would not -break down the barrier which her race built between -them. She was too proud, perhaps too hurt to try.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly Arnim looked up. His features were -quiet and composed, and the gathering twilight hid -the expression in his eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora, where is Miles?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Still in bed. He—he is not feeling well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The effects of yesterday?" He laughed grimly. -"It seems to me, dear, that your brother would be -the better for some occupation—in his own country."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You wish him to go?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He met her challenge with an unfaltering determination -that was yet mingled with tenderness and pity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think it better—before it is too late."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Before he ruins himself—or us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff, you are not fair. You are unjust."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He smiled sadly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope I am. Good-bye, little woman. I shall -try and be back early. But perhaps Arnold will -come—and then you will not be alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went out, closing the door quietly behind him. -The protest died on her lips; an icy sense of isolation -crept over her, obliterating for the moment all thought -of his injustice, of the slight which he had cast upon -her brother. In her sudden weakness she held out -her arms towards the closed door and called his name, -feebly, like a frightened child crying in the dark. But -he did not come back. She heard his spurs jingle with -a mocking cheerfulness—and then silence. So she -went back to her place by the window and sat there, -holding back with a pitiful pride the tears that burnt -her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently the door opened again. She thought he -had come back, and with all her pride her heart beat -faster with a momentary, reasonless hope. Then she -heard the click of the electric light and a man's voice -speaking to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Gnädige Frau</em><span>, may I come in?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She sprang to her feet as though the voice had been -a blow, and saw Bauer standing on the threshold, -bowing, a curious half-ironical smile playing about his -mouth. For the moment she could neither think nor -speak, but out of the depths of her consciousness arose -the old aversion, the old instinctive dread. She knew -then, warned by that same occult power, that the time -had come when the dread should receive its justification.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I found the door open, and ventured to enter -unannounced," Bauer went on calmly. "I knew -from experience that the usual formalities would lead -to no result. You have been 'out' a great deal of -late, </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>." He came towards her without -hesitation, and, taking her passive hand, kissed it. -"Am I forgiven?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His absolute ease of manner checked the rise of her -indignation. She felt herself strangely helpless. Yet -her dignity—her dignity as Wolff's wife—came to her -rescue. She looked steadily into the still smiling -face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If I have been often out, it has not been a mere -chance, Herr Rittmeister," she answered. "It has -been of intention—an intention which you would have -been wiser to respect."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I see no good reason why I should respect your -husband's 'intentions,' </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>," he retorted -calmly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My husband's wishes are mine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Really?" He laughed, and then grew suddenly -serious. "In any case, it seems to me that I—we have -a right to some sort of an explanation. To put it -baldly—there was a time when it pleased you to accept -my sister-in-law's hospitality and friendship. Now, -it seems, neither she nor I are good enough for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora flinched involuntarily. She knew that the -reproach was a just one, but she knew too that Wolff -had been right and only she to blame. Instinct again -warned her. She saw danger in this man's cold -eyes, in which there yet flickered the light of some -controlled passion either of hatred or some other -feeling to which she dared give no name.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have a right to an explanation," she said at -last, with an effort controlling her unsteady voice. -"Indeed, I owe you more than that—I owe you an -apology. It was a mistake for me to enter into a circle -to which I did not belong; only you will do me the -justice to remember that it was a mistake not -altogether of my making."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Gott, gnädige Frau!</em><span>" He laughed angrily. "You -talk as though we were the dirt under your feet. Is -it your husband's petty nobility which gives you the -right to look at me like that? I too wear the King's -uniform—that is a point which you would do well to -remember."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have not forgotten it. And there is no question -of contempt—I feel myself, Heaven knows, superior to -no one; but I repeat, it was a mistake to accept -kindness which could not be returned. Surely you can -understand——" She crushed down her pride, and -in the effort her bearing became prouder and colder. -"We are poor, Herr Rittmeister, your relations are -rich and live as we cannot live. That alone is a barrier -between us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He shrugged his shoulders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"An excuse, </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>, an excuse! I know the -opinions of your husband's class too well not to know -perfectly what you prefer not to tell me. In any case, -your considerations are a little belated. You should -have thought of all that before you allowed your brother -to enter into a circle"—he echoed her words with a -kind of mocking satisfaction—"in which he could not -sustain his position."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora started. She knew now that there was a -menace in this man's looks and words. She understood -that he would never have acted as he had done -without the sure conviction that the power was in his -hands. What that power was she did not know—she -only knew that she was afraid.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down, </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>," he went on more calmly. -"You look pale, and I have something of importance -to tell you. But before everything, I want you to -believe that I come to you as your friend."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He motioned her to be seated in the chair which he -had pushed towards her, and she obeyed him passively. -A sharply defined recollection of their first meeting -came back to her as she did so. Then, too, he had -acted with the insolent assurance of a man who knows -himself master of the situation; but then she had had -the power of her independence. Now she felt herself -bound, helpless in the bonds of circumstance—and her -own folly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is of your brother I have come to speak," Bauer -went on, taking his place before her. "Nothing -should prove my friendship better than the fact that -I have come in spite of the rebuff to which I knew I -should lay myself open. But I could not see the crisis -break over you without a word of warning—without -offering you a helping hand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked at him in mingled astonishment and anger. -His familiarity was more terrible to her than his -previous tone of menacing resentment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not understand you," she said coldly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps not. But you must surely be aware that -your brother has not been living the most austere of -lives since his arrival in Berlin. It may be that I am -a little to blame. I thought by the way he talked that -he could well afford it, and encouraged him to share my -life with me. Well, it appears now that he bragged -more than circumstances justified. I do not speak of -the money he owes me nor his gambling-debts to my -friends. Those I have already paid. It was not -pleasant for me to be associated with a defaulting -gambler, and what I did I did for my own sake. I ask -no thanks or credit for it. But there are other -matters." He had undone the buttons of his military coat, and -drew out a folded sheet of paper, which he laid before -her. "That is a rough list of your brother's creditors, -with the amounts attached," he said. "You will see -for yourself that he has understood the art of amusing -himself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She took the list from him. The figures swam before -her eyes and she fought against a deadly faintness. -From afar off she heard Bauer's voice roll on with the -unchanged calm of a lawyer for whom the matter had -only a professional interest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At the bottom you will see the sum-total, </span><em class="italics">gnädige -Frau</em><span>. It runs into three figures, and it is possible -that my list is not complete. The worst of it is that -your husband will be held responsible. The credit -would never have been given to Mr. Ingestre if his -brother-in-law had not been Herr von Arnim, captain -on the general staff."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora rose unsteadily to her feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is impossible," she stammered incoherently. -"I know—Wolff hasn't the money—it is impossible. -Oh, how could he have been so foolish—so wicked!" And -it was curious that in that moment she thought -less of the ruin which was bearing down upon her -husband than of the disgrace which had fallen upon -her brother, of Wolff's justified contempt and the -triumph of his friends. Bauer had also risen and now -took a quick step to her side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Gnädige Frau</em><span>, your brother has only done what -hundreds of young fellows do. No doubt he hoped -that he would have time enough allowed him to pay. -Unfortunately, there are war-scares flying about, and -the tradespeople are a little shy of English customers. -I fear they will press payment. But there is no need -for you to worry. Your husband need never even -know that these debts existed. A word from you and -they are paid and forgotten."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will pay them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I." He came still closer, so that she could -hear his quick, irregular breathing. "You English -are practical people," he went on, with an attempted -laugh. "You know that there is precious little done -out of pure charity in this world. If I help you out of -this difficulty it is on certain conditions."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not want to hear them——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why not? They are simple enough. The one -is that you should renew your friendship with my -sister-in-law. It is awkward for her—this sudden -cooling off; and she has a right to expect some -consideration from you. The other concerns myself. -I too must have your friendship—more than that—you, -your regard." He took her hands and held them -in a brutal, masterful grip. "You can't pretend you -don't know—you must have known I cared—from -the beginning—you——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She wrenched herself free. She had seen his eyes -and the hell in them, and, inexperienced though she -was, she knew that it was not even a so-called love -which he experienced, but a cruel thirst for conquest, -the hunger for revenge, the desire to retaliate where -he had been slighted and thwarted. She reached -the door before he could restrain her, and with her -hand on the bell stood there facing him. She seemed -unnaturally calm, and her scorn for the man who -had tried to trap her lent her a dignity, a look of -triumph which curbed his passion and held him for -the moment speechless.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please go," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He bowed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By all means. But I shall not take this as your -final answer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My husband will answer you—not I."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know what that will mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It will mean that I intend to have no secrets -from him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You misunderstand me. Do you know the -consequences? Your husband, as a man of honour, -will challenge me. I shall have the choice of weapons, -and I swear to you that I will kill him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She said nothing. Her eyes had dilated, and -every trace of colour had left her face; but she -retained her attitude of proud defiance, and he went -past her through the open door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You see, I can be patient," he said, looking back -at her. "My sister-in-law is giving a ball on the -18th. If you are there I shall understand. If -not——" He shrugged his shoulders. "No doubt -your husband will see his way to settling Mr. Ingestre's -troubles. As they stand, they are likely to cost -him his collar. </span><em class="italics">Auf Wiedersehen, gnädige Frau</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was gone. She waited until the last echo of -his steps had died on the wooden stairway, then she -tottered forward and sank into Wolff's chair, her -face buried in her hands. She did not cry, and no -sound escaped her lips. She sat there motionless, -bereft of thought, of hope, almost of feeling. The -end, the crisis to which she had been slowly drifting -was at hand. It seemed to her that she heard the -roar of the cataract which was to engulf her. And -there was no help, no hope.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was thus Miles Ingestre found her an hour later. -Knowing that Arnim was out, he had donned a dressing-gown -and now stood staring blankly at his sister, his -hair disordered, his yellow face a shade yellower from -the last day's dissipation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, Nora!" he said sleepily. "What's the -matter, old girl?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked up. His voice gave her back the power -at least to act.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rittmeister Bauer has been here," she said. -"He gave me this. Is it true?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He took the paper which she held towards him -and studied it, rocking on his heels the while in an -uneasy silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, it seems true enough. What the devil did -he give it you for?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He says the creditors are likely to press -payment—and—and—Wolff will be held responsible. Oh, -Miles, what have you done? What have you done?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The last words broke from her like a cry of despair. -They seemed to penetrate the thickness of Miles's -phlegm, for he laid his hand on her shoulder, his -lips twitching with a maudlin self-pity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It wasn't my fault, Nora. I didn't know what -they were leading me into. If Wolff had only helped -me a bit—if he hadn't been such a stuck-up prig, so -beastly self-righteous. There, you needn't break out! -I can't help it—it's the truth; it's not all my -fault." He ran his shaky hand through his hair. "And, -after all, there isn't so much to make a fuss about. -Everybody in our set does that sort of thing, and I -dare say Bauer will tide me over the worst. He's a -decent fellow, and beastly rich. Look here, Nora"—his -shifty eyes took an expression of stupid cunning—"if -you asked him—you know he's a friend of yours—I'll -be bound he'd help me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora turned and looked at him. In that moment -he seemed to her a complete stranger. Then she -gently loosened herself from his hand. She did not -answer. It was too useless. She rose and left him -standing there, the silly smile still playing about -his lips.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-fetish"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE FETISH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Your mother is very ill," the Rev. John had written, -"and I am in an indescribable state of anxiety both -on her account and yours. Everybody here is quite -certain that there is going to be war between us and -Germany. Only yesterday the squire was down -here talking to me about it. He says there is no -hope, and that the conflict is bound to come. I -do not understand politics myself, but it seems the -Germans are determined to destroy us and get our -power. It is very dreadful that a whole nation -should show itself so avaricious, and I am sure God -will help us punish so wicked and wanton an attack. -All Delford is already on foot, and quite a number -of young men are thinking of enlisting in the -Territorials. The squire says it is a magnificent sight -to see how the whole country rises at the call of danger. -He himself has done not a little to help the general -patriotic movement, and has opened a shooting-range -in a field, where he is teaching his men to shoot. The -sound of the guns makes me quite nervous, and is -very bad for your poor mother, but the squire says -it is helping to produce the best shots in Europe, -so we must not complain, but bring our sacrifice to -the motherland with a cheerful countenance. Nevertheless, -I am terribly troubled. If war should break -out—which God forbid!—what will become of you, -my poor child, out there in the enemy's country? -Could you not make your mother's health an excuse -to come back to us, at any rate until the present -crisis is over? Wolff will surely understand that -you cannot stay in Germany if there is war. Find -out from him what he thinks of the chances, and -notice if there are any signs of preparation. If you -can, come home. Your mother is very much against -it, but she is ill and hardly understands the seriousness -of the situation. We must all stand together -in the moment of danger, and I am sure your heart -is aching for the dear old country, and that you are -longing to be with us. I have written to Miles that -he is to return as soon as ever he thinks fit. He -seems to be very tied by his studies, so that I do -not like to press a hasty decision. You must talk -it over together."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora had received this letter by the afternoon's -post. She was reading it a second time when Wolff -entered the room. He had on his parade uniform, -and the cheery clatter of his sword and spurs jarred -on her overstrung nerves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why this magnificence?" she asked, trying -to disguise her unreasonable irritability. "Is there -anything unusual?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A review to which I am commanded," he answered -quietly. "I may be home a little late for -supper. I expect you will go and see Aunt Magda -and Hildegarde. They will think it curious if you -do not go soon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They have only just arrived," Nora said in the -same tone of smothered irritation. "I could not -have gone before."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff bent over the back of her chair and kissed her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please go!" he said coaxingly. "You used to -be fond of them both, and they have been very good -to us. Be nice to them—for my sake."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was silent a moment, as though struck by a -new thought. Then she nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall go this afternoon. Robert was coming, -but it does not matter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Captain Arnold?" Wolff drew himself suddenly -upright. "Were you expecting him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; he was coming to see me. Have you any -objection?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had heard the colder, graver note in his voice, -and it stung her. Was Arnold also to come between -them—Arnold, in whose hands lay the one chance -of rescue from the coming catastrophe? Was her -last friend to be taken from her by a reasonless, -unworthy distrust? She looked up into her husband's -tanned face with a directness which was not unlike -defiance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">I</em><span> have no objection," he answered her at last. -"You know everything pleases me that makes you -happy. I only beg of you to be careful."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Careful!" she echoed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Captain Arnold has been in Berlin a month," -he went on. "It is obvious that he has stayed for -your sake, and for my part I am glad enough. But -there are the evil tongues, little wife."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She sprang to her feet. If she could only have -told him, only unburdened her heart of its crushing -trouble, then perhaps he would understand, and the -widening cleft between them be bridged. The words -of a reckless confession trembled on her lips; but -she remembered Bauer and his promise: "I swear -I will kill him"; and the confession turned to bitterness, -to an impotent revolt against the circumstances -of her life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The evil tongues!" she echoed scornfully. "Why -should I mind what they say now? They have -taken everything from me—all my friends. I have -only Robert left. Is it wrong to have friends in -this country—friends who do not listen to the verdict -of—of enemies?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is not wrong, but it can be dangerous," he -answered. "You have no enemies, Nora, only -people who do not understand you and whom you -have hurt. You have always been unfortunate in -your friends. They have all stood between you and -those to whom, by your position, you belong."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean that if Arnold were German—'one of -us,' as you would say—it would not matter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not so much."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She laughed angrily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How jealous you are!" she exclaimed. "How -petty and jealous!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora!" He was white to the lips, and the -hand which had fallen involuntarily on his sword-hilt -showed every bone of the knuckles, so tense was -the grip. Something in his expression frightened her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not mean you alone," she stammered, "but -all of you. You are jealous of us and you hate us. -When you marry one of us, you do your best to -isolate her, to cut her off from her country and her -people."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that not inevitable—right, even? But have -I done that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her conscience smote her as she looked up at him -standing erect and stern before her. She realised -that another and graver issue had arisen between -them—an issue that was perhaps the source of all. -She realised that there had been something more than -fear and a consequent irritability in her attitude -towards him. She had not seen her husband in him, -but only the representative of thousands who might -soon be marching against her country, and for one short -minute at least she had hated him. The realisation -horrified her, drove her to a reckless attempt at -atonement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, forgive me, Wolff!" she cried eagerly. "I -am simply unbearable this afternoon. Father has -written a worrying letter—about mother—and that -made me nervous and bad-tempered. Forgive me, -dear. Don't be angry at the silly things I have -said."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He yielded to the hands that drew him towards her, -and kissed her, but rather gravely, as though he -more than half-doubted her explanation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not angry, Nora. I only ask you to try -and understand. God knows"—she thought his -voice changed, and grew less certain—"I would never -willingly come between you and any one you cared -for, but I have my honour to protect, and your -honour is mine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff, what do you mean? Have I done anything -dishonourable?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, dear. You cannot see things from my standpoint. -You have been brought up with other ideas. -I have tried to explain before. We have a double -task. For our names' sake and for the sake of the -uniform we wear we must keep ourselves from the -very breath of evil. And that applies to every one -connected with us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora drew her hands away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think I understand," she said. "For those -two fetishes everything must be sacrificed. I will -do my best to satisfy them and you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, Nora. I trust you implicitly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She went to the door, hesitated, and then stole -out. But in that moment's hesitation she had caught -a glimpse of him standing at his table in an attitude -of dejection, and had heard a smothered sigh of pain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am miserable," she thought, "and I have made -him miserable. How will it all end?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In trembling haste she dressed and hurried out. -She had a one all-dominating desire to seek help and -comfort from some one who could understand her, -some one, too, who held Wolff's happiness higher than -her own and could be just to both. She needed a -woman's comfort, and she turned now to Frau von -Arnim. Hitherto she had shrunk from the inevitable -meeting, now she sought it with the desperation of -one who knows no other course. She had indeed no -one else to turn to. Before Wolff she was tongue-tied. -It was not only that silence was forced upon her by a -mingled pride and fear; the subtle understanding -between them had been rudely broken, and though -their love for each other remained, they had inwardly -become something worse than strangers. For there -is no reserve so complete, so insurmountable, so -surcharged with bitterness as that which follows on -a great passion. And then, too, what had she to say -to him? "I love you; but I have brought ruin upon -your life. I love you; but I am not happy with -you." Had she even the right to say that to him? Was -it not, in any case, useless? Yet she knew she must -unburden her heart, if for no other reason than that -the power to keep silence was passing out of her -hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus it was natural that her footsteps turned for -the first time towards the little flat near the -Brandenburger Tor. And on her road she met Arnold -himself. It was as though fate pursued her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was on my way to you," he said quietly, as he -turned to walk by her side. "I have something to -tell you, and should have been sorry if we had missed. -It is about Miles."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora glanced at him, and her eyes were full of a -miserable gratitude.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How good you are to me!" she said. "I -have not deserved it; you are my only friend here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Surely not," he answered. "What I can do is -little enough. I have found out the full extent of -Miles's liabilities and have endeavoured to persuade -his creditors to wait. Unfortunately, they are -obdurate on the subject. They believe there is going -to be war and that your brother might leave Berlin -suddenly. It seems to me that you should do one of -two things, Nora—either allow me to—to advance -the money, or to tell your husband the truth."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She put up her hand with a movement of involuntary -protest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know that the first is out of the question," -she said proudly. "And the second! Oh, Robert, -I am afraid! It may ruin Wolff, and then—they hate -each other so. Wolff will send him away, and——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She broke off with a quick breath that was like -a sob.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Isn't that the best thing that can happen?" -Arnold answered. "Your brother will never do any -good here. He is better in England."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I know, I know. He has been weak and -foolish. He is so—young." Her voice was full of -a piteous apology. "And perhaps it was my fault—a -little, at least. But I can't let him go, Robert. -Whatever else he is, he is my brother, and I am so -alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Alone!" He looked at her aghast. "What -do you mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't you understand? It's so easy—so simple. -I am a stranger here. I am hated and distrusted. -I suppose it was inevitable. In a few days you will -have gone, and if Miles goes too I shall have no one -left——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora!" he interrupted sternly. "There is -your husband."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff—yes, there is Wolff. Robert, they say -there will be war. Is it true?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He frowned with perplexity. For the moment he -could not follow her thought, and her question seemed -to him erratic and purposeless.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is possible. For my part, I hope it may come -to that. Things have been drifting to a crisis for a -long time, and we must assert ourselves once and for -all. These beggars are beginning to suspect us of -fear or incompetence, and the sooner they are -disillusioned the better." Suddenly he caught a glimpse -of her face, and stopped short. "Nora, what is the -matter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You forget," she said hoarsely. "I am not -English any more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They walked on in silence, Arnold too startled -and overwhelmed by the conflict which she in one -short sentence had revealed to him to speak or -think.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was a thoughtless fool," he said at last. "For -the moment I could not imagine you as anything -but my own countrywoman. Now I see; and it is -terrible for you—terrible. Even marriage cannot -blot out one's nationality."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had reached the door of the Arnims' flat, and -she stopped and faced him with wide-open, desperate -eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing can!" she said. "And I know this—if -there is war it will break my heart, or drive me -mad. I don't know which."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Never before had she felt so drawn to him by all -the ties of friendship and blood, and yet she went up -the steps without a word of farewell. Arnold -understood, and looked after her with a tender pity. He -believed that he had crushed all passion out of his -heart, but that a love remained which was infinitely -greater, purified, as it seemed, from the dross of -selfish desire. He felt as he stood there that he would -willingly have given his life to save her from the -threatening struggle, and yet—such is the irony of -things—in that same moment he unconsciously -brought her even deeper into the complicated tangle -of her life. The door had opened, and a short, plump -little woman stood on the threshold. She saw Nora, -bowed, hesitated as though she would have spoken; -then her eyes fell on Arnold, and she passed on down -the steps with a cold, blank stare.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who was she, I wonder?" Arnold thought -indifferently. "What was the matter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Poor Nora could have answered both questions, -and a numbing sense of hopelessness crept over her as -she toiled slowly up the stone stairs. She felt already, -without knowing why, that she had come in vain. -They were all her enemies, they all hated her. Why -should Frau von Arnim be different from the rest? -Had not Arnold said, "She is a cold, hard woman who -will make trouble"? And yet, as she entered the -narrow sitting-room of her aunt's new home, something -of her first hope revived. Frau von Arnim was alone. -She stood at the writing-table by the window, -apparently looking out into the street, and Nora saw -the resolute, aristocratic profile and graceful figure -with a heart-throb of relief. This woman was like -her mother in all that was noble and generous—perhaps -she would be to her as a mother, perhaps she -would really understand and help her in her great -need.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aunt Magda!" she said. Her voice sounded -breathless. A curious excitement possessed her, so -that she could say no more. She felt that everything, -her whole future life, depended on Frau von Arnim's -first words.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The elder woman turned slowly. Had the faintest -warmth of kindness brightened her face, Nora might -have flung herself into her arms and poured out the -whole story of her errors, her sorrows, her aching sense -of divided duty; but Frau von Arnim's face was -cold, impassive, and the hand she extended indifferent, -her kiss icy. Nora drew back. In an instant -everything in her had frozen. A dawning bitterness and -resentment shut the gates of her heart against all -confidence, all affection. She felt that here was an -enemy from whom she need expect neither help nor -mercy, and she seated herself with the hard, set face -of a criminal who knows that he is before an unjust -judge.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am glad that you have come at last, Nora," -Frau von Arnim said calmly. "We had been -hoping to see you some days ago. No doubt you -have a great many friends who claim your attention."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her quiet words were free from all sarcasm, and, -indeed, every trace of feeling, but they stung Nora -by their very indifference.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I came as soon as I thought you would be glad -to see me," she said. "I did not think you would -want visitors whilst you were settling down."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Arnim studied the sullen girlish face -opposite. She might well have retorted that a helping -hand is always welcome, even in "settling down," and -that Frau von Seleneck, despite her own household -cares, had been daily to lend her advice and assistance. -But it was not Magda von Arnim's custom to reproach -for neglect, and, moreover, she had another and more -important matter on her mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hildegarde is lying down at present," she said in -answer to Nora's question, "and perhaps it is just as -well. I have something I wish to speak to you about -whilst we are alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora stiffened in her chair. She felt already -trapped and browbeaten, and her eyes were bright -with defiance as they met Frau von Arnim's steady -gaze.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I would have written to you," Frau von Arnim -went on, in the same judicial tone, "but I knew that -my letters would find their way into Wolff's hands, and -at that time I felt sure that you have some sufficient -explanation to offer us for the unbelievable story which -your friend, Captain Arnold, was clumsy enough to -relate to us. I felt, as I say, sure that there was some -painful mistake, and one which it would be unkind -and useless to tell Wolff. Besides, for your sake I -thought it better to wait. If there was some mistake, -as I firmly believed, a letter could only have troubled -and puzzled you. So I waited, meaning to ask you -privately for an explanation. Since I have been in -Berlin I have heard enough to see that my caution -was altogether unnecessary."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aunt Magda!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Arnim lifted a quiet hand, as though to -command silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is obvious that Captain Arnold must have told -you of our interview," she said, "and obvious that you -have remained his friend. I hear that he is constantly -at your house. I do not know what Wolff thinks and -feels on the matter. He loves you, and is himself -too honourable not to have a blind confidence in you. -That, however, is not sufficient. </span><em class="italics">I</em><span> must know whether -that confidence is justified."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora wondered afterwards that she did not get up -then and go. Every inflection of the calm voice was -a fresh insult, and yet she felt spell-bound, incapable -of either attack or self-defence. In her mind she kept -on repeating, "YOU are cruel, wicked, and unjust!" -but the words were never spoken; they were stifled -by the very violence of her indignation and growing -hatred.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Arnim saw the hatred and interpreted it in -the light of her own bitterness. For, little as Nora -knew it, her "enemy" was suffering intensely. There -were in Frau von Arnim's heart two things worth -more to her than love or happiness: they were the -fetishes against which Nora had railed in scorn and -anger—"</span><em class="italics">Standesehre</em><span>" and pride of name. Since her -arrival in Berlin a scandal had drifted to Frau von -Arnim's ears which had been like a vital blow at the -two great principles on which her life was built; and -had Wolff been the cause instead of Nora she would -not have been less severe, less indignant. As it was, -she saw in his wife a careless, perhaps unworthy bearer -of her name and her scorn and disappointment -smothered what had been, and might still have been, -a deep affection.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I must ask you to answer one question," she -continued. "Was it true what Captain Arnold told me? -Were you his promised wife at the time when you -married Wolff?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora's lips parted as though in an impulsive answer, -then closed again, and for a moment she sat silent, -with her eyes fixed full on her interlocutor's face. The -time had surely come to give her explanation, to appeal -to the other's pity and sympathy for what had, after -all, been no more than an act of youthful folly—even -generous in its impulse. But she could say nothing. -The stern, cold face froze her in a prison of ice, and she -could do no more than answer in a reckless affirmative.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; it was perfectly true."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think your conduct was honourable, or -fair to Wolff? Have you no explanation to offer?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora rose to her feet. She was white with anger and -indignation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"None that I need offer you, Frau von Arnim," -she said. Unconsciously she had reverted to the old -formal title, and in her blind sense of injury and -injustice she did not see the spasm of pain which passed -over the elder woman's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Arnim also rose. She appeared calm almost -to the point of indifference, but in reality her whole -strength was concentrated on the suppression of her -own emotion, and for once in a way the generous-minded, -broad-hearted woman saw and understood -nothing but herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You force me to speak openly, Nora," she said. -"I must point out to you that you have done -something which in our eyes is nearly unpardonable. An -engagement is almost as binding as a marriage and -until it is dissolved no honourable woman or man has -the right to enter into another alliance. But that is -what you did; and whether you have an explanation -to offer or not, makes, after all, no difference. What -is done cannot be undone. But you are now no longer -the Miss Ingestre who was free to act as she chose in -such matters. You are my nephew's wife, and you bear -our name and the responsibility which it implies. -Whatsoever you do reflects itself for good or evil upon -him and upon us all. Therefore we have the right -to control your conduct and to make this demand—that -you keep our name from scandal. That you have not -done. From every quarter I hear the same warnings, -the same insinuations. It is not only Captain Arnold -who has caused them—I alone know the worst—it is -your friendship with people outside our circle, your -neglect of those to whom you are at least bound by -duty, if not by affection. Before it goes too far to -be mended, I ask—I demand that your intimacy with -these people and with this Captain Arnold should -cease."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Captain Arnold is my friend," Nora exclaimed. -"The only friend I have."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Had Frau von Arnim been less self-absorbed that -one sentence might have opened her eyes and shown -her a pitiful figure enough, overburdened with trouble -and loneliness. But Nora's head was thrown back, -and the defiant attitude blinded the other to the -tears that were gathered in the stormy, miserable eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You appear only to consider yourself and your -own pleasure," Frau von Arnim answered, "and that -is not the point. The point is, what is good for Wolff -and Wolff's reputation? It is not good for either that -your name should be coupled with another man's, or -that his brother-in-law should, in a few weeks, make -himself renowned as a drunkard and a reprobate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora took an impulsive step forward. She had -come to make her confession, her explanation, to throw -the burden of her brother's delinquencies upon these -stronger shoulders. Now everything was forgotten -save resentment, the passionate need to defend herself -and her blood from insult.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is not true!" she stammered. "Nothing -that you have said is true. I have not been dishonourable, -and Miles——" She broke off because her conscience -accused her, and a smile of bitterness passed -over Frau von Arnim's pale features.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then all I can say is that English people must -have an extraordinary sense of honour," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Perhaps she regretted her own hasty words, but it -was too late to recall them. A blank silence followed. -Both felt that the straining bond between them had -snapped and that they stood opposite each other like -two people separated by an untraversable river.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora went to the door and from thence looked back -at the proud figure of her adversary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have no right to speak to me as you have -done," she said in a voice that she strove in vain to -steady. "What I do concerns no one but Wolff and -myself, and I need not and shall not alter my life -because of what you have said. You can do what you -like—tell Wolff everything: I am not afraid. As to -what you said about us—the English—it only proves -what I already knew—you hate us because you -envy us!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And with this explosion of youthful jingoism she -closed the door upon her last hope of help and comfort. -But outside in the narrow, dusky hall she broke down. -A strange faintness came over her, which numbed -her limbs and senses and drew a veil before her eyes. -A cry rose to her lips, and had that cry been uttered -it might have changed the whole course of her life, -sweeping down the barrier between her and the stern-faced -woman by its very weakness, its very pitifulness. -But she crushed it back and, calling upon the last -reserves of her strength, went her way, too proud to -plead for pity where she had already found judgment.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="war-clouds"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">WAR-CLOUDS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Nora had not seen Arnim the whole morning. He sat -in his study with the door locked, and the orderly had -injunctions to allow no one to disturb him. -Nevertheless, towards midday a staff-officer was shown -through the drawing-room into Wolff's sanctum, and -for an hour the two men were together, nothing being -heard of them save the regular rise and fall of their -voices.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What has the fellow come about?" Miles demanded -in a tone of injury. "One would think they -were concocting a regular Guy Fawkes plot, with their -shut doors and their whisperings—or making plans -for the Invasion."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora looked at her brother. He was lying full-length -on the sofa, reading the latest paper from home; -and as he had done very little else since he had lounged -in to breakfast an hour late, complaining of a severe -headache, Nora strongly suspected him of having -varied the "Foreign Intelligence" with supplementary -instalments of his night's repose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is there any news?" she asked. She put the -question with an effort, dreading the answer, and Miles -grunted angrily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Things don't move much one way or the other," -he said. "They stay as bad as they can be. The -beggars won't go for us—they're funking it at the last -moment, worse luck!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why 'worse luck'?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because it is time the cheek was thrashed out of -them." He turned a little on one side, so as to be -able to see his sister's face. "What are you going to -do when the trouble begins?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora's head sank over her work.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall stay by my husband."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor old girl!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora made no answer. She was listening to the -voices next door, and wondering what they were -saying. Was Miles's suggestion possible? Was it -true that her husband sat before his table hour after -hour absorbed in plans for her country's ruin, his -whole strength of mind and body set on the supreme -task? And if so, what part did she play—she, his -wife?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you, Miles?" she asked suddenly. "What -will you do?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He laughed uneasily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If my Jew friend gives me the chance, I shall -make a bolt for it," he said. "It's a nuisance having -all these confounded debts. I wish you weren't so -stand-offish with the Bauers, Nora. If you had only -sugared them a little——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't!" she interrupted almost sternly. "Your -debts must be paid somehow, but not that way. -Wolff must be told."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff!" He stared at her open-mouthed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is nothing else to be done, unless father -can help you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The pater won't move a finger," Miles assured -her. "And if you tell your righteous husband, there -will be the devil of a row."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He sat up rather abruptly as he spoke, for at that -moment the study door opened, and Wolff and his -visitor entered. Both men looked absorbed and -tired, and Wolff's usually keen eyes had an absent -expression in them, as though he were mentally -engaged in some affair of importance and difficulty. -His companion, however, a tall, ungainly major whom -Nora had always liked because of his openly-expressed -admiration for her husband's abilities, immediately -assumed his manner of the gay and empty-headed -cavalier.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must forgive my taking so much of your -husband's time, </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>," he said as he kissed -Nora's hand. "I had some rather stiff calculations, -and I simply couldn't do them alone—you have -no doubt heard what a dull person I am—so I came -round to Arnim for help. There is nothing like -having a clever junior, is there?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned to Wolff with his easy, untroubled -smile, but Wolff's face remained serious. He was -buckling on his sword in preparation for departure, -and appeared not to have heard his major's facetious -self-depreciation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By the way, I have a small invitation for you, -</span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>," the elder officer went on. "A sort -of peace-offering, as it were. My wife is driving out -to see the Kaiser's review this afternoon, and asks -if you would care to accompany her. If you have -not seen it before it will be well worth your while -to go."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you. I should be delighted!" Nora said -eagerly. She knew Major von Hollander's wife as -a harmless if rather colourless woman, who had as -yet shown no signs of joining in the general boycott -to which Nora was being subjected. Besides, every -instinct in her clamoured for freedom from her -thoughts and from the stuffy, oppressive atmosphere -of this home, which seemed now less a home than a -prison. She accepted the offer, therefore, with a -real enthusiasm, which was heightened as she saw -that her ready answer had pleased Wolff. He came -back after the major had taken his leave, and kissed her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, Nora," he said. "It is good of you -to go."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why good of me? I want to go."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I am grateful to you for wanting."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora did not understand him, nor did she see that -he was embarrassed by her question. She felt the -tenderness in his voice and touch, and it awoke in -her a sudden response.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't overwork, dear," she said. "Couldn't -you come with us?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't, little woman. When the Emperor calls——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He finished his sentence with a mock-heroic gesture, -and hurried towards the door. The major had -coughed discreetly outside in the narrow hall, and -in an instant duty had resumed its predominating -influence in his life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora took an involuntary step after him and laid -her hand upon his arm. She wanted to hold him back -and tell him—she hardly knew what; perhaps the -one simple fact that she loved him in spite of -everything, perhaps that she was sorry her love was so -frail, so wavering; perhaps even, if they had been -alone, she would have thrown down the whole burden -of her heart and conscience with the appeal, "Forgive -me! Help me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was one of those fleeting moments when, in the -very midst of discord, of embittered strife, a sudden -tenderness, shortlived but full of possibilities, breaks -through the walls of antagonism. Something in -Wolff's voice or look had touched Nora. She remembered -the first days of their marriage, and with hasty, -groping fingers sought to link past with present.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff!" she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Very gently, but firmly, he loosened her clasp. -He heard the major move impatiently; he knew -nothing of the bridge which she had lowered for -him to cross and take her in his old possession. And -even if he had known he could not have acted otherwise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I must go, dear," he said. "I am on important -duty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"More important than I am?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, even more important than you are!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She drew back of her own accord and let him go. -The moment's self-surrender was gone, and because -it had been in vain the gulf between them had -widened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles laughed as he saw her face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It must be amusing to be married to a German," -he said. "I suppose you are never an important -duty, are you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora went out of the room without answering. -She almost hated Miles for his biting, if disguised -criticism; she hated herself because it awoke in her -an echo, a bitter resentment against her husband. -She was the secondary consideration: he proved -it every day of his life. His so-called duty was no -more in her eyes than an insatiable ambition which -thrust every other consideration on one side. He -had never yet given up a day's work to her pleasure; -he sat hour after hour locked in his room, and toiled -for his advancement, indifferent to her loneliness, -to the bitter struggle which was being fought out -in the secrecy of her heart; and when she came to -him, as in that vital moment, with outstretched -hands, pleading for his help and pity, he had thrust -her aside because, forsooth, he had "important -duty"! He was like those other men she had met -who dressed their wives like beggars rather than go -with a shabby uniform or deny themselves a good -horse. He was selfish, self-important, and she was -no more in his life than a toy—or at most an unpaid -housekeeper, as her father had prophesied. How -right they had been, those home-people! How true -their warnings had proved themselves! Her love -had intoxicated her, blinded her to the insurmountable -barriers. She saw now, more clearly than ever before, -in her dawning recognition, that she stood alone, -without a friend, in the innermost depths of her -nature a stranger even to her husband. And he -had not helped her. He had left her to her solitude, -he had cut her off from the one companion who might -have made her life bearable. He was as narrow, as -bigoted as the rest of those who judged her by the -poor standard of their foreign prejudices and customs. -The thought of that last interview with Frau von -Arnim was fuel to the kindling fire in Nora's brain. -She had been treated like a criminal—or, worse, -like a silly child who has been caught stealing. She -had been ordered to obedience like a will-less inferior -who has been admitted into the circle of higher beings -and must submit to the extreme rigour of their laws. -Whereas, it was she who had condescended, who had -sacrificed her more glorious birthright to associate -with them! All that was obstinate and proud in -Nora's nature rose and overwhelmed the dread of -the threatening consequences. Let Frau von Arnim -tell her husband the truth as she knew it! Let -Wolff despise her, cast her and hers from him as, -according to his rigid code of honour, he was bound -to do! It would but hasten the catastrophe which -in Nora's eyes was becoming inevitable. Her love -for her husband sank submerged beneath the accumulation -of a bitterness and an antagonism which was -not so much personal as national.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus it was in no peaceful or conciliatory mood -that she took her place in Frau von Hollander's carriage -that afternoon. Her manners were off-hand, her -remarks tinged with an intentional arrogance which -led her meek companion to the conclusion that -public opinion was right, after all, and </span><em class="italics">die kleine -Engländerin</em><span> an intolerable person. Nevertheless, she -did her best to act the part of amiable hostess, and -attempted to draw Nora's attention to the points of -interest as they passed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All the regiments in Berlin will be there," she -said with a pardonable pride. "That is not a thing -one can see every day, you know. It will be a -grand sight. They are the finest regiments in the -world."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In Germany, perhaps," Nora observed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her companion made no answer, and Nora tried -to believe that she was satisfied with her own -sharpness. How these foreigners boasted! It was a good -thing to point out to them that not every one was -so impressed with their marvels.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet, as they reached the Tempelhofer Felde Nora -had hard work to restrain her naturally lively interest -and curiosity from breaking bounds. The regiments -had already taken up their positions. Solid square -after square, they spread out as far as the eye could -reach, a motionless bulwark of strength, bayonets -and swords glittering like a sea of silver in the bright -December sunshine. Wolff had taught Nora to -recognise them, and she took a curious pride in her -knowledge, though she said nothing, and her eyes -expressed a cold, critical indifference.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How fine the </span><em class="italics">Kürassiers</em><span> look!" Frau von Hollander -said enthusiastically. "I have a cousin among -them. They are all six-foot men—a regiment of -giants."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rather like our Horse Guards," Nora returned; -"but your horses are not so fine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Hollander pursed her lips, and the bands -striking up with the National Anthem put an end to -the dangerous colloquy. The colour rushed to Nora's -cheeks as she listened to the massed sound. She -thought for an instant it was "God Save the King" -that they were playing, and the tears of a deeply -stirred patriotism rushed to her eyes. It was only a -moment's illusion. Then the dazzling simultaneous -flash of arms, a loud, abrupt cheer from the crowd -about them reminded her of the truth. It was not the -King who rode past amidst his resplendent Staff—it -was the German Emperor—HER Emperor! She -caught a glimpse of the resolute, bronze face, and -because she was at the bottom neither narrow nor -prejudiced, she paid her tribute of admiration ungrudgingly, -for the moment forgetful of all the issues that -were at stake. With eager eyes she followed the -cortège as it passed rapidly before the motionless -regiments. The resounding cheer which answered the -Emperor's greeting thrilled her, and when he at last -took his stand at the head of his Staff, and the -regiments swung past, moving as one man amidst the -crash of martial music, she stood up that she might -lose no detail in the brilliant scene, her hands clenched, -her pulses throbbing with a strange kind of enthusiasm. -It was her first Kaiser parade; it overwhelmed her, -not alone by its brilliancy but by the solidity, the -strength and discipline it revealed; and had Frau von -Hollander at that moment ventured a word of -admiration she would have received no depreciatory -comparison as answer. But poor Frau von Hollander had -had enough for one day. She sat quiet and wordless, -and silently lamented her own good-nature in taking -such a disagreeable little foreigner with her in her -expensive carriage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The charge past had just begun when Nora heard -her companion speak for the first time. It was not -to her, however, but to a young dragoon officer who -had taken up his stand at the carriage door, and Nora -was much too absorbed to take any further notice -of him. Their conversation, however, reached her -ears, and she found herself listening mechanically -even whilst her real attention was fixed on the great -military pageant before her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The criticism should be good to-day," the officer -was saying. "</span><em class="italics">Tadellos, nicht wahr</em><span>? Even the -Emperor should be satisfied. I don't think we have -much to fear from the future."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"From the future?" Frau von Hollander interrogated. -She was not a clever woman, and her topics -of the day—like her clothes—belonged usually to a -remote period.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I mean when the row comes," the dragoon -explained. "We have all sealed orders, you know. -No hurry, no bustle, no excitement; but when the -Emperor presses the button—wiff!—then we shall -be </span><em class="italics">en route</em><span> for England."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The brilliant picture before Nora's eyes faded. She -was listening now with tight-set lips and beating -heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ach, you mean the war!" her hostess said. "My -husband is so reticent on the subject. I never hear -anything at all. You think it will really come to -that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No doubt whatever—unless the English are ready -to eat humble-pie. They are afraid of us because they -see we are getting stronger, but they are equally afraid -to strike. Their ancestors would have struck years -ago, and now it is too late. Their navy is big on paper, -but absolutely untried. As to their army——" He -laughed good-naturedly. "That won't give us much -trouble."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean that it is not big enough?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Hollander was pretending to forget Nora's -existence, but there was a spite in her tone which was -not altogether unpardonable. She was grateful for -this opportunity to pay back the slights of the last -hour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is not merely too small," the officer returned -judiciously; "it is no good against men like ours. -Their so-called regulars are picked up out of the gutters, -and the rest are untrained clerks and schoolboys who -scarcely know how to shoot——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora turned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is a lie!" she said deliberately.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The conversation had been carried on loud enough -to reach the adjoining carriages, and Nora's clear -voice caused more than one occupant to turn in her -direction. They saw a pretty young woman standing -erect, white-lipped, with shining eyes, confronting a -scarlet-faced officer, who for a moment appeared too -taken aback to answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I beg your pardon, </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>," he stammered -at last, with his hand lifted mechanically to his helmet. -"I—I did not quite understand——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I said that it was a lie," Nora repeated. "Everything -you said was a lie. We are not afraid of you, -and our soldiers are the best and bravest soldiers in -the world!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The dragoon looked helplessly at Frau von Hollander, -and the latter decided on a belated rescue.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is most unfortunate," she said with pious regret. -"I really quite forgot for the moment. Frau von -Arnim was English before her marriage——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"——and is English still!" Nora interrupted -proudly. "Please let me pass. I am going home."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then tell the coachman. I cannot let you walk."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Hollander was now thoroughly alarmed. -She felt that the matter had gone too far, and was -ready to atone in any possible way. But Nora thrust -the detaining hand aside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I would rather walk," she said between her clenched -teeth. She sprang from the carriage, ignoring the -dragoon's offer of assistance. That unfortunate young -officer followed her, his face crimson with very real -distress.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please forgive me, </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>," he stammered. -"How was I to know? Your name was German, and -I had no idea—and a fellow talks such rot sometimes. -Please forgive me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was so young, so sincere and boyish in his regret -that her heart under any other circumstances might -have softened. But the insult had fallen on an open -wound, and the pain was intolerable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You said what you thought, and you lied," she -said. "That is all that matters."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He drew aside with a stiff salute.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have apologised. I can do no more," he said, -and turned on his heel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus poor Nora toiled her way over the hard, frozen -roads alone, her thin-shod feet aching, her heart -beating to suffocation with anger and misery. But she was -unconscious of pain or weariness. Her English pride, -the high love of her land had risen like a tide and swept -her forward—to what end she neither knew nor cared.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="ultimatum"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">ULTIMATUM</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"I do not know if I have done right in telling you," -Frau von Arnim said. "I had not meant to do so, but -circumstances—and Nora—have forced me. Had she -offered me any reasonable explanation, or promised to -put an end to her intimacy with this Captain Arnold, -I should not have thought it necessary to speak to you -on the matter. She chose to ignore my appeal and -my advice, and I felt that there was no other course -left open to me but to warn you and to give you my -reasons for doing so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sure you meant it all for the best," Wolff -answered. "All the same—I would rather have -waited until Nora had told me herself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was standing by the window, and did not see -the sceptical lifting of his aunt's eyebrows. She -frowned immediately afterwards, as though annoyed -at her own display of feeling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It would have been better," she admitted calmly; -"but Nora is in a state of mind which does not -encourage hope. I cannot help saying so, Wolff; she -has changed very much since the Karlsburg days."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know," he answered. "She has changed just in -this last month or two. Poor little wife!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Other people have noticed it," his aunt went on. -"The Selenecks, the Freibergs, all our best friends -have the same complaint to make. She is off-hand, -sometimes deliberately rude; and that sort of thing -does not help to stop the scandal that is growing round -her. Elsa Seleneck does not usually klatsch, but she -is merciless where Nora is concerned, and it is all the -more unpleasant because they were once good friends. -I can only suppose that Nora has come under the -influence of her brother and this man—this——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora's friendship with Captain Arnold is absolutely -innocent," Wolff said firmly. "No doubt they have -that sort of thing in England."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps so, but we do not. People see this -Englishman at your house day after day. There seems no -reason for his constant visits. They call each other -by their Christian names and go out together. Who -can blame any one for putting the worst interpretation -on Nora's conduct? And they are beginning to blame -you, Wolff."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They say that you ought not to tolerate her -brother's presence in your house—that you ought to -send this Arnold to the right-about."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He winced.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't. She would never forgive me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff! Has she grown more important than -everything else in life?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no," he answered almost impatiently. "But -she is young and careless—not bad. She has done -nothing to deserve such treatment at my hands."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Arnim rose and came to his side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know that she is not bad," she said. "At the -bottom of her heart Nora may be honest, but she is -headstrong and foolish, and folly can lead to the same -catastrophes as deliberate wickedness. Unless you -hold her back with a strong hand, Wolff, she will -alienate you from all your friends, she will bring an -unpleasant scandal upon our name and perhaps ruin your -career. These last two things are more precious to me -than anything on earth, and that is why I have spoken -to you and put the matter in its most serious light. -You must show her how wrong she is."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff turned and looked his companion steadily in -the eyes. He had just returned from a hard -afternoon's work, and it was perhaps the recent fatigue -which had drawn the colour from his face and left him -with deep lines about the mouth and across the white -forehead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is she wrong?" he said. "Do you know, I am -not sure, Aunt Magda. I am beginning to think the -mistake is all mine. I loved her so, and she is so -impetuous and warm-hearted. I carried her off her -feet before she had time to think, to realise what she -was giving up. And now—well, I suppose she is -beginning to realise; the glamour has all gone, and -her love"—he steadied his voice with an effort—"hasn't -proved to be what she thought it was. It -isn't strong enough to bring the sacrifices, and she -is hungry for her own country and her own people. -One can't blame her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Arnim sighed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And when the war comes—what then?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"God knows!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He dropped wearily into a chair and covered his face -with his hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We can but hope for the best," he said. "I must -wait and be patient."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will say nothing to her, Wolff?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No. I do not understand what you have told me. -I cannot believe that she should have deceived me and -kept the secret so long, nor can I understand Captain -Arnold's conduct. Nevertheless, I trust Nora, and -one day perhaps she will tell me everything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His aunt shook her head. That "one day" seemed -too far off, too impossible, and in the meantime she saw -the man with the bowed head, and understood something -of what he was suffering.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do what you think best," she said, and, obeying -a sudden impulse of tenderness, she laid her hand upon -his shoulder. "Only let no harm come to the name, -Wolff. It is all I ask, for your sake and for mine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He took the hand and lifted it to his lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have the right to ask everything," he said. -"Your sacrifice—yours and Hildegarde's—made it -possible for me to make Nora my wife. I owe you——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not your happiness, </span><em class="italics">armer Kerl</em><span>!" she interrupted -sadly. "That was what we wanted to give -you, but we have not succeeded. And you must not -call it a sacrifice. We never do. You are just my -only son, for whom it is a joy to smooth the way as much -as it lies in our power."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She knelt down beside him. All her proud severity -had melted. Had she shown a quarter of this -tenderness to Nora, they would never have parted as they -had done. But then Nora had sinned against her -rigid code of honour; Nora deserved punishment—not -tenderness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is another thing I want to say, Wolff," she -went on gently. "Seleneck confessed to me that you -had sold Bruno. I cannot understand why you should -have done so—unless you were short of money."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned away his head, avoiding her steady, -questioning eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Won't you confide in me, Wolff—like you did in -the old days?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course I will!" He tried to laugh. "Yes, it -was money, Aunt Magda. You see, I knew we were -going to be invited to the Hulsons' to-morrow; and -Nora needed a new dress—and there were other -expenses——</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miles Ingestre, for instance?" she suggested -bitterly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was another mouth to feed," he admitted. -"Nora's father doesn't understand that we are not -rich. He hears that we invite and are invited, and so -he thinks—naturally enough—that we can afford to -keep Miles for a few months. And Nora does not -quite understand either; so I sold Bruno to smooth -things over."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did not tell her what she none the less guessed—that -many of Wolff's scanty gold pieces had found -their way into his guest's pockets by means of the -simple formula, "I'll pay you back as soon as the -pater's cheque arrives." Which event had, so far, -never taken place.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Frau von Arnim rose and, going to her writing-table, -drew out a thick envelope, which she put in his hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is our gift to you," she said. "I have been -keeping it for—for any time when you might want a -little extra, and I should like you to have it now. -Perhaps you could get Bruno back."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't!" he protested almost angrily. "Do -you think I do not know what you have already given -up for my sake—your friends, your home, your -comfort?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And do you not know that all has no value for me -compared to the one thing?" she answered, looking -him steadily in the face. "I want you to remember -that, should any greater trouble come, any sacrifice -would be gladly borne rather than disgrace."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Disgrace!" he echoed, with a stern contraction -of the brows. "Of what are you afraid, Aunt Magda?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not know. I only wanted your promise that -you would always come to me. As to this little -gift"—her tone became lighter—"it would be an insult to -our relationship to refuse it. I cannot allow my nephew -to ride to war on an old charger. Surely you will -allow me to throw this sop to the family pride?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So she laughed away his objections, and he sat there -with drawn, white face and looked about him, -recognising the remnants of the old home, knowing for -whose sake it was that they had come to rest in these -narrow, gloomy confines. And, after all, it had been -in vain. The sacrifices had brought no one happiness. -He rose to go, and as he did so the door opened, and -Hildegarde stood on the threshold. For a moment -he hardly recognised her. She held herself upright -as he had not seen her do for nearly three years; her -cheeks were bright with colour and her eyes with the -old light, so that it seemed as though the time of -suffering had been blotted out of her life and she was once -more his gay, untroubled playfellow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, Hildegarde!" he cried delightedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She came laughing towards him and gave him her -hand with a cheery frankness. Neither by look nor tone -did she betray that his presence had set her pulses -galloping with the old pain and the old happiness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, Wolff!" she repeated, mocking him. "Do -you think I am a ghost?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A phoenix, rather," he retorted gaily, for his joy -was unfeigned. "I never dared to hope such good -things of you. What has brought about the miracle?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She told him about the "cure" she had been -through, still in the same easy, unconcerned voice, and -only her mother noticed the restless movement of -the long, thin hands. Perhaps it was that one sign -of emotion which prevented her from urging Wolff to -remain. Perhaps she knew, too, that Wolff was stifling -in the narrow room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must come back soon, Wolff," Hildegarde -said, as he bade her good-bye. "You have so much -to tell us—about the war and our chances. But I -will let you go to-day. You look so tired."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She did not ask that Nora should come too. She -did not even mention Nora's name. Wolff remembered -that significant omission as he trudged homewards, -and he understood that Nora stood alone. She had -lost touch with his friends and with those nearest to -him, and he too had drifted out of her life. Such, -then, was the end of a love and a union which was to -have been endless! A few months of untroubled -happiness, and the awakening! He felt no anger -mingle itself with his grief, rather an intense pity. -Though he could not understand her conduct in the -past, he trusted her with the blindness of an unchanged -devotion. He believed that she would have some -explanation. He was sure that once at least her love -had been sincere, that she deceived herself more than -she had ever deceived him. She had believed her love -for him stronger than that for home and people, than -any other love. She had been mistaken—that was -all. An old love had returned into her life and with -it the old ties. The intoxication of the first passion -was over, and she had gone back to those to whom -she belonged, and a sea of racial prejudice, racial -differences, and national feeling divided her from the man -to whom she had sworn, "Thy God shall be my God, -thy people my people." He had lost her. What -then? What was to be the solution to the problem -that lay before them both? He knew of none, and -perhaps at the bottom of his heart there was still a -glimmer of hope that he was mistaken and her friendship -for Arnold no more than friendship, her change -towards him no more than a passing shadow. He told -himself that when worried and overworked as he was, -a man can too easily exaggerate the extent of a -misfortune. Who knew what change for the better the -next few hours might bring?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus he reached his home with a lighter heart than -he had expected. Nora was not yet back from the -parade. It surprised him, therefore, to hear loud and -apparently angry voices proceeding from his room. -He entered quickly, without waiting to lay sword or -helmet aside, and found Miles and another older man, -whose appearance warranted the supposition that his -descent from the Mosaic family was unbroken.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff looked from one to the other, and perhaps his -knowledge of both classes of men warned him of what -was to come.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Might I ask for an explanation?" he said quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles was clinging to the back of a chair and trembling -from head to foot, either with fear or rage or a mixture -of both. His usually sallow face was now grey and -his lips twitched convulsively before he managed to -answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm beastly sorry, Wolff," he stammered. "It's -the devil of a nuisance, and I swear I never meant to -bring you into the mess. This—this man has come -fussing about some money. I told him to wait, but -he seems to have got some idiotic ideas in his -head——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Herr Baron vill not blame me that I am -anxious for my moneys," the Jew interrupted, speaking -also in broken English and giving Wolff the benefit of -a servile bow. "Dis genelman have borrowed much -from me, and I am a poor man. I vould not have took -the risk but dat he gave me your name as guarantee. -He said dat you vere his broder-in-law and dat it vere -all safe. Dat is von month ago, and since den I have -heard no more of my genelman, but many English -leave Berlin just now, and I come to see if vat he say -be true."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is perfectly true. Mr. Ingestre is my brother-in-law."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Den I am satisfied. De Herr Baron vill see to it -as officer and genelman."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He took a step towards the door, but Wolff stopped -him with a curt gesture. Nor for a moment had he -taken his eyes from Miles's colourless and sickly -countenance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You say that Mr. Ingestre owes you money," he -said. "Will you be so kind as to show me the bill?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Jew immediately produced a slip of greasy paper -and handed it to him. Wolff took it with the tip of -his fingers, his eyes narrowing with an irrepressible -disgust. There was a moment's waiting silence. -Miles's eyes were riveted on the carpet, the Jew was -taking an inventory of the furniture, and neither saw -Wolff's face. For that matter, save that the lips -beneath the short fair moustache had stiffened, there -was no noticeable change in his expression.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Twelve hundred marks!" he said at last, throwing -the paper on his table. "Have you that sum by -you, Miles? It would be better to pay this gentleman -at once."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles Ingestre started and glanced loweringly at his -brother-in-law's face. He suspected sarcasm, but -Wolff's pitiless steel-grey eyes warned him that the -time for retort had not yet come.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eh—no; I'm afraid I haven't," he stammered. -"I am expecting a cheque from home, and of course -will pay up at once. To tell you the truth——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His thin, hesitating voice died away into silence. -Perhaps he felt that Wolff had no desire to hear "the -truth." He held his tongue, therefore, and let events -drift as they might. Wolff had taken Frau von -Arnim's envelope from his pocket. He opened it and -counted twelve notes for a hundred marks each on to -the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Kindly give me your receipt," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Jew obeyed willingly, scratching an untidy -signature across the bottom of the piece of paper which -Wolff pushed towards him. With greedy, careful -fingers he counted the notes and stuffed them in his -pocket.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is a great pleasure to deal vid so great genelman," -he said as he shuffled to the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff waited until he was gone, then he threw open -the window as though the atmosphere sickened him. -When he turned again his expression was still calm, -only the narrowed eyes revealed something of what -was passing through his mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles did not look at him. He was playing with the -paper-weight on the table, struggling to regain his -dignity. It bit into his mean soul that he should be -indebted to "this foreigner."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's awfully decent of you, Wolff," he broke out at -last. "I'm really awfully grateful, and of course as -soon as my money comes——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff cut him short with an abrupt and contemptuous -gesture.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I ask for no promises," he said, "and make no -claim on your gratitude. What I have done was not -done for your sake, but for Nora's and my own. I do -not wish the scandal of a disgraceful debt to be -associated with my name. No doubt you do not -understand my point of view, and there is no reason why -I should explain it. There is one matter, however, -on which I have the right to demand an explanation. -You have run through something like £100 in the time -that you have been here. Where has this money gone?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles shrugged his shoulders. The movement -suggested that as between one man of the world and -another the question was superfluous.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, you know—the usual thing," he said. -"Suppers, horses, and women. The people I know -all did it. It was pretty well impossible to keep out -of the swim."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff detached his sword and seated himself at the -table; Miles remained standing, and Wolff did not -suggest that he should change his position.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That means probably that you have other debts," -he said. "Is that so?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"£100 goes nowhere," Miles answered sullenly. -"I didn't know they would come down on me so soon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have a curious way of answering a question. -Still, I fancy I understand you. You will make a list -of these other debts and lay them before me. After -that, you will return to England." He saw Miles's -start of anger, and went on deliberately: "You have -associated with the scum of Berlin, and therein I am -perhaps to blame. I should have put an end to it -before you drifted thus far. But I was under the -illusion that at your age and as Nora's brother you -would be capable of behaving as a man of honour. -Otherwise, I should never have allowed you in my -house."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He opened a drawer and began sorting out some -papers before him, with the same deliberation, -indifferent to the look of intense hatred which passed -over his companion's face. "You have proved that -you cannot rise to so necessary a standard," he went -on, "and therefore a prolongation of your stay under -my roof has become impossible. Nora must know -nothing of this, and there must be no fuss or scandal. -You will write this evening to your father and request -him to telegraph for you immediately—the possibility -of war will be sufficient excuse. Until your departure -you will behave as usual, with the exception that you -do not leave the house. You will, of course, send your -apologies to General von Hulson for to-morrow evening. -I do not wish you to accompany us. That is all I have -to say. You will do well to make no difficulties."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles laughed angrily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think I'd make difficulties if I could help -it?" he demanded. "I'd give ten years of my life -to get back to England."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is no object in your making fate such a -generous offer," was the ironical reply. "Your debts -here will be paid—somehow or other. The road home -is open to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't go without money."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your passage will be paid for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't mean that—I mean—there are reasons -which make it impossible for me to return—just -now——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnim swung round in his chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean that you have debts in England?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In other words, that you left England on that -account?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles shrugged his shoulders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There were a good many reasons," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a moment's silence. Arnim began to -write with a studied calm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your debts here will be paid on condition that you -leave within forty-eight hours," he said. "I cannot -do more for you. I only do that for Nora and for the -sake of my own name."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Males leant forward over the table. He was not -usually clever, but hatred had made him clever enough -to take the most cruel weapon that lay within his -reach.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You talk as though I were such a beastly cad," he -said, "but you shut your eyes to the other things -that go on in the house. You are particular enough -about your precious honour and name where I am -concerned; but you let Arnold come into the house -and make love to your wife without turning a hair."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miles, take care what you are saying!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't mind telling the truth. I have seen -them——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff held up his hand, and there was something in -the movement which checked the flood of malice and -treachery and sent Miles back a step as though he had -been struck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can go," Wolff said quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again Miles wavered, torn between rage and -cowardice. He hated this iron-willed martinet with -his strait-laced principles and intolerable arrogance, -but his fear was equal to his hatred, and after a moment -he turned and slunk from the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnim went on writing mechanically. His brain—the -steeled, highly trained brain—followed the intricate -calculations before him with unchanged precision, -but the man himself fought with the poison in his -blood, and in the end conquered. As a strong swimmer -he rose triumphant above the waves of doubt, suspicion, -and calumny which had threatened him and held high -above reach the shield of his wife's honour. It was -all that was left him—his trust in her, his belief in her -integrity. He knew that a crisis was at hand. -With Miles's departure would come the moment in -which Nora would have to make her choice between -the home and people which he represented and her -husband. How would she choose? The hope that -had comforted him before seemed all too desperate. -Family and country called her, and her love was the -last frail bond which held her to him. Would it hold -good? Had it not perhaps already yielded? Was she -not already lost to him?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet, as he heard the door of the neighbouring room -open and the sound of her quick footsteps, the hot -blood rushed to his face, his pulses beat faster with the -hope kindled to something that was almost a joyous -certainty. She was coming to him. He would see -her standing irresolute before him, and he would take -her in his arms and by the strength of an unconquerable -love draw her back over the tide which was flowing -faster and broader between them. It was impossible -that he should lose her, impossible that the outward -circumstances of their lives should be stronger than -themselves and what had been best in them—their love. -Even when the footsteps stopped and he remained -alone, the impossibility, absurdity of it all was still -predominant over despair. He rose and pulled open -the door. He had no clear conception of any plan. -He was so sure that the moment they stood face to -face she would understand everything by some miracle -of sympathy, the very thought of an "explanation" -was a sacrilege against the power with which he felt -himself possessed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora!" he cried joyfully. "Nora!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She stood immediately opposite him. Her hat had -been flung recklessly on the table, and her hair was -disordered, her face white and drawn. She made no -answer to his greeting. Her eyes met his with no light -in their depths. They were sombre, black, and sullen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora!" he repeated, and already the note of -triumph had died out of his voice. "What is the -matter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She came at once to him, taking his hands, not in -affection but in a sort of feverish despair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff," she said, "I want to go away from here—I -want to go home!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The moment of hope and enthusiasm was over. -Something mysteriously cold and paralysing had -passed like an icy breath over his self-confidence and -changed it to a frigid despair. He could not even -plead with her, nor tell her of the love which he felt -for her nor of the pain which he suffered. Everything -lay at the bottom of his heart a dead, frozen weight. -He loosened her hands from his arm and forced her -gently into a chair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You want to go away?" he said quietly. "Why?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because I hate this place and—and every one."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Does that include your home and your husband, Nora?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She laughed wildly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My home! This isn't my home: it never has -been. I have always been a stranger—an exile here. -Everything is foreign to me—everything hateful. If -you were twenty times my husband, I should say it. -I loathe and detest this country and I loathe and detest -your people. I am English. I was mad, mad, mad -to believe I could ever be anything else!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was hysterical with fatigue and excitement, -and scarcely conscious of what she was saying. But -Wolff, who knew nothing of what had happened at -the parade, heard in her words a deliberate and final -declaration.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you hate my country and my people, you must -hate me," he said. "Has it come to that already?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She sprang to her feet as though goaded by some -frightful inner torment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no, I don't hate you," she cried. "I love you -at the bottom—at least, I believe I do. I can't tell. -Everything in me is in revolt and uproar. I can't -see you clearly as you are, as I love you. You are just -one of those others, one of those whom I detest as my -deadliest enemy. That is why I must go away. If I -stayed, God knows, I believe I should grow to hate -you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Every trace of colour faded out of his face, but he -did not speak, and she ran to him and clasped his arm -with the old reckless pleading.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me go!" she begged. "Let me go home! -Things will be better then. I shall quiet down. I -shan't be so constantly maddened and irritated as -I am now. I shall have time to think. Wolff, I -</span><em class="italics">must</em><span> go!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you go now, it will be for ever," he said steadily. -"The woman who leaves her husband and her country -in the time of danger sacrifices the right to return."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff!" Her hands sank to her side. She -stared at him blankly, horror-stricken.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must see that for yourself," he went on in the -same tone of rigid self-control. "If war breaks out -and you return to England, you can never come back -here as my wife. I am a German and an officer, and -the woman who shares my life must share my duty. -That is the law. It is a just and right one. Husband -and wife cannot be of different factions. They must -stand together under the same flag. In marrying -me you accepted my country as your own. If you -leave me now, you are turning traitor, and there must -be no traitors amongst us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He put the case before her with pitiless logic, more -overwhelming than the fiercest outburst of passion. -The hysterical excitement died out of her face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A traitor!" she repeated dully. "How can I -be that? How can any one give up their country?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not know," he answered, "and therefore -whatever you choose I shall not blame you. I only -show you the inevitable consequences."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff, I can't stay here. Everybody hates me. -I can't hide what I feel. You don't know the things -I have done—and said. I—I insulted some one this -afternoon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It can all be lived down," he returned. "People -will forgive and understand, if you stand by us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I can't—not in my heart of hearts. Wolff, -if war breaks out, I shall be praying for your ruin—yes, -in your very churches I shall pray for it. Perhaps -my prayers will direct the very bullet that kills -you——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her voice shook with a kind of smothered horror, -which stirred the cold weight in his heart to pity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hush, Nora, hush! That is all exaggerated feeling. -It is hard for you, but you must choose. Either -you must sacrifice your country or your husband. -That is the simple issue."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why should </span><em class="italics">I</em><span> bring the sacrifice?" she retorted. -"Why must </span><em class="italics">I</em><span> be the one to give up everything that -I was taught to love and honour next to God? If -you love me, leave the army, leave Germany! Let -us go away—anywhere—and be happy together!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You see!" she exclaimed with bitter triumph. -"That is too much to ask from you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am a soldier," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I would to God I had been born to so easy a -profession!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She turned away, battling with the fierce, angry -sobs that choked her. The next instant his arms were -about her. There was no hope and no joy in his -embrace. He held her as he might have done in the -midst of shipwreck and before the approach of -death.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think it is easy to put before you the -choice—knowing what you will choose?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Knowing——?" she stammered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You do not love me enough to stand by me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is not true!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She freed herself and took a step back, searching his -face as though to find there an answer to some agonising -doubt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is not true," she repeated breathlessly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He lifted his hand in stern warning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Think, Nora! We stand, you and I, at the parting -of the ways. Make your choice honestly—I shall not -blame you. But once you have chosen, there must -be no turning back. If you choose to follow me, it -must be to the bitter end of your duty. You must -curse my enemies and bless my friends. Otherwise -there can be no peace and happiness between us. If -you choose your country—and those others whom you -love—you shall go to them. I shall keep you in my -heart until I die, but I will never see you again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In spite of his strongest effort, his voice shook, and -that one signal from the depths of his despair called -forth the one and only answer of which her headlong, -passionate nature was capable. She flung herself -into his arms, clinging to him in a storm of grief and -pity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With God's help, I will stand by you to the end, -my husband!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a long minute he held her to him, and then -gradually he felt how her whole frame relaxed and her -arms sank powerless to her side. He looked down -into her face. It was very pale, and a faint, childlike -smile of utter weariness hovered round the half-open -lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am so tired, Wolff," she said under her breath, -"so tired!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Without answering, he bore her to the sofa and laid -her with a clumsy tenderness among the cushions. -But he did not speak again. For the moment the -conflict was over; a truce had been called between -them. Only his instinct knew it was no more than -that. Thus he knelt down silently beside her, and -with her hand still clasped in his watched over her as -she slept.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-code-of-honour"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE CODE OF HONOUR</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Nora stood before the long glass in the drawing-room -and studied herself with a listless interest. The -expensive white chiffon dress which Wolff had given -her for the occasion became her well, and at another -time she might have found an innocent pleasure in -this contemplation of her own picture. But she was -exhausted, spiritually and physically. The storm of -the day before had shattered something in her—perhaps -her youth—and she saw in the mirror only the pale -face and heavy eyes, and before her in the near future -an evening of outward gaiety and inward trial. That -which she had once sought after with feverish -desire—magnificence and contact with the great world where -stuffy flats and poverty were unknown—had become -her poison. She shrank instinctively, like some poor -invalid, from all noise and movement. She would -have been thankful to be able to lie down and sleep -and forget, but Duty, that grim fetish to which she -had sworn obedience, demanded of her that she should -laugh and seem merry beneath the critical, questioning -eyes of those who to-morrow might be fighting against -her people.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles was lying in his usual attitude on the sofa, -watching her. He had been curiously quiet the whole -day, keeping to the house and avoiding Arnim with -an increased shyness. Nora believed that she -understood him. She did not see that his young face was -sallow and lined with dissipation, nor that his furtive -eyes were heavy and bloodshot. She saw in him only -the brother, the Englishman, and that one fact of his -nationality covered him with a cloak, hiding from her -all that was pitiable and contemptible, lending him a -dignity, a worthiness that was not his. So also she -interpreted his general conduct and his abrupt refusal -to accompany her to the Hulsons' ball. She felt that -he was awaiting the hour of departure to his own -country, chafing at the bonds which held him, and -that, like a true Englishman, he shrank from all further -association with his future enemies. She honoured -him for it—she envied him for it; but she dreaded -her own loneliness. She came to his side and laid her -hand gently on his shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish you were coming too," she said, "for my -sake, not for yours."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't," he retorted sullenly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I know. I was not going to try and persuade -you. I understand so well how you feel. Oh, Miles, -you must go back to England—we must manage it -somehow. I shall tell Wolff to-night. Things can't -be worse than they are—and perhaps he will help."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles Ingestre looked at her keenly. An expression -that was half cunning, half amused lifted the moody -shadows from his face. It was obvious that she did -not know what had passed between Wolff and himself, -and it was not his intention to tell her. His promise -to Wolff on the subject did not weigh with him—he -had other and better reasons for keeping silence. In -the first place, he had no wish to awaken any sense -of gratitude towards her husband in Nora's heart; -in the second, he still needed money.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You need not worry him with my debts," he said -carelessly. "They can wait, and anyhow they wouldn't -keep me in Berlin. The difficulty is on the other -side."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In England?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; I must have ready money somehow. I can't -go back until the way has been cleared a little." He -pulled himself up on to his elbow. "Look here, Nora, -you could help me if you wanted. Wolff can't and -won't do anything, but there's Bauer. You don't -need to look so shocked—he's told me himself that he -would do me a good turn, only his sister-in-law has the -purse-strings, and you have rather offended her. If -you went to her ball on the 18th——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miles, it is impossible! You don't know——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I only know that if you don't help me I shall be in -a bad fix. When the war breaks out——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is war certain?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Unless they funk it. I believe the ambassador -has his trunks packed and his carriage waiting."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora made a gesture of mingled impatience and -despair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why must there be war?" she cried. "Why -can't we leave each other alone? What is there to -quarrel about?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing!" Miles retorted. "The whole thing is -got up. The beggars want more than is good for them, -and we've got to keep them in their places. That's the -gist of the matter. It has to come sooner or later."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora was silent. His words, with their unvaried -mingling of scorn and pride, aroused in her an equally -mingled feeling of irritation and sympathy. Why -was he so sure of victory, why so scornful of "these -foreigners"? What right had he to be either -contemptuous or arrogant? What right had she to -share those feelings with him, even if only in the -secret places of her heart?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By the way," Miles went on, watching her intently. -"What's the matter with you and poor old Arnold? -He has been here twice to-day, and you have been -so-called 'out' each time. I got a note from him asking -what was up. It's pretty rough luck on him, as he -wants to say good-bye."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-bye?" Nora repeated. She had started -perceptibly, and Miles grinned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He has marching orders, and is leaving to-morrow -night. I bet he would have gone days ago if it hadn't -been—well, for some one!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miles, I will not have you talk like that!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had turned on him scarlet with anger and -humiliation, but Miles only burst out laughing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You need not get into such a rage, sweet sister -mine! I didn't say it was you, though if the cap -fits——" He broke off into a sulky silence. Wolff -had entered. He was in full dress, and bespattered -with mud, as though he had returned from an arduous -ride. In one hand he carried a dispatch case. One -glance at his face showed them that he controlled a -strong excitement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am awfully sorry, Nora," he said hurriedly, -"it is impossible for me to accompany you. I have -been driven from pillar to post the whole day, and now -I have some work which will take me the whole night. -You must give my excuses to General von Hulson. -He will understand why it is. A good many officers -will be absent for the same reason."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I must go alone?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Absorbed as he was, he heard the reproach and -annoyance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you mind that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall hate it!" she said emphatically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The word "hate," with all its too recent associations, -caused him to look at her closely. He saw that -she had lost her pallor, and that the old defiant light -burnt in her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps it would be better, then, if Miles accompanied -you," he said. "There is still time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not wish Miles to do anything he objects to," -she returned coldly. "No doubt he has his reasons -for not going."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff's eyebrows rose a fraction of an inch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No doubt," he said, glancing in Miles's direction; -"but perhaps if I added my appeal to yours he would -consent to overcome—his reasons."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles rose sullenly to his feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you want it—of course," he mumbled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff nodded absently. He went into his room, -closed the door, leaving Nora alone. There had been -an expression of anxiety on his face which did not, -however, excuse his apparent indifference in Nora's -eyes, and she stood frowning after him, puzzled and -deeply wounded. But she made no attempt to follow -him. The scene of the previous evening had been a -last effort; she was too weary, too hopeless to strive -again after a reunion which seemed already an -impossibility.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Twenty minutes later Miles reappeared in the full -glory of his evening clothes. Nora was surprised—perhaps -a little disappointed—to observe that his -spirits had risen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The carriage is waiting," he said. "Hurry up, -or we shall be late."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora hesitated. A superstitious clinging to an old -custom led her to the threshold of Wolff's room. -She tried the handle of the door without effect, -and when she turned away again her cheeks were -scarlet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Locked, eh?" Miles said. "I bet he's afraid -of us catching sight of his papers. Arnold said some -of those staff fellows have the handling of pretty -valuable stuff."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora gave no attention to his words, though she -was destined to remember them. She led the way -down the narrow stairs into the street where the cab -was waiting for them, and a minute later they were -rattling out of the little by-street into the busy -thoroughfare.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It seemed to Nora that the crowds were denser -than usual, that a curious unrest was written on the -usually placid, cheerful faces that flashed past the -open carriage window. She remembered Wolff's -expression as he had entered the room; she felt now that -it had been the unconscious reflection from those other -faces, and that the one invisible bond of sympathy -which unites all men of the same race had passed on -the flame of patriotism from one to another, till in all -these thousands there burned, above every meaner -passion, the supreme </span><em class="italics">Vaterlandsliebe</em><span>. Only </span><em class="italics">she</em><span> felt -nothing, nothing—though she was bound to them by -oath—save fear and horror. She felt alone, deserted. -Miles was the one being in the whole seething crowd -who felt as she felt, who suffered as she suffered. She -turned to him with an impulsive tenderness. He was -not looking out of the window, but staring straight -before him, with his low forehead puckered into -thoughtful lines.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's a queer thing," he said, as though he felt her -questioning glance. "Here we both are in a foreign -country, mixing with people whom we shall be blowing -up to-morrow, and to-day not moving a finger to harm -them, just because the word has not been given, as it -were. If I threw a bomb amongst all those big-wigs -to-night, who knows what victories I might -prevent?—and yet I suppose it would be murder. And then, -there is Wolff stewing over papers that, I bet, the -English War Office would give a few thousands just -to look at; you and I sit and watch him and never -move a hand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you expect us to do?" she returned listlessly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing, I suppose."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The rest of the drive passed in silence, and once in -the ball-room, Nora lost sight of her brother -completely. He drifted off by himself, whither and with -whom she could not think, for she knew that he had no -friends in the brilliant crowd. She, too, was friendless, -though there were many there who bowed to her and -passed on, and for the first time she realised the full -extent of her isolation. The Selenecks were not there, -and she was glad of their absence: she would have -hated them to have been witnesses of her loneliness. -Those whom she knew, whose comradeship with her -husband should have guaranteed a certain courtesy, -passed her by. Nora cared nothing for them, but the -humiliation stung her to the quick. She was English, -and because she was English they insulted her, tacitly -and deliberately. Not all the months in her husband's -country had taught her to understand that she had -insulted them, that she had trampled on their pride of -race, and scorned the customs and opinions which were -their holiest possessions. It never occurred to her that -the description of the scene of the previous afternoon -had passed from lip to lip with the rapidity of lightning, -and that in the eyes of that mighty brotherhood of -soldiers, and of that still mightier sisterhood of their -wives, she was branded as a renegade, as a woman who -had spat upon her husband's uniform, and exalted -another race above that to which she belonged—a -</span><em class="italics">Deutschfeindliche</em><span>, an enemy who masqueraded -among them under a transparent guise of hypocritical -friendship. Perhaps some pitied her; but for the -most part they were the older men, whose experience -taught them to be pitiful—and they were not present -on this particular night. Even if they had been they -could have done nothing to help her. She was an -outcast, and for them she had made herself "unclean." Thus -poor Nora, still young and headstrong in all -her emotions, her sensibilities raw with the events of -the last weeks, stood alone and watched the scene -before her with eyes from which the tears were held -back by the strength of pride alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There must have been considerably over two hundred -guests present, almost exclusively officers of lower -rank, with here and there a civilian to throw the -brilliant uniforms into more striking relief. Nora could -not but be impressed by the tall, finely built men, with -the strong-cut, bronzed faces, and in each she saw a -dim reflection of her husband. There was perhaps no -real resemblance, but they were of one type—they were -German, and that one similarity aroused in her the -old feeling of wild opposition against the man she -loved, and whom she had sworn to stand by to the end. -Her love for him was as genuine as her admiration -for these, his brothers—as genuine as her hatred for -him and for them all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the midst of her bitter reflections she heard a -voice speak to her, and, turning, found Bauer at her -side. She had expected him the whole evening, and -her humiliation deepened as she saw the cynical -satisfaction in his eyes. She knew that he was triumphing -in the belief that he had won, that in her loneliness she -would turn to him, and the knowledge changed her -misery to a desperate pride.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>," he said. She made no answer, -and his smile broadened. "You see, I am very -punctual," he went on. "I have come for my answer. -What is it to be?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I gave it you once," she returned. "Is that not -enough?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Circumstances can alter the most determined. -Are you not tired of this Pharisaical crowd, who -pretend to look upon you as dirt because you do -not pronounce their shibboleth as it pleases them? -Are you not ready now to come amongst friends -who wish you well—who would help you? You -have only to say the word."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked about her, feeling her isolation like an -icy wind, and for an instant knew temptation. How -easy it would be to yield! What, after all, had he -asked of her?—her friendship, common politeness for -the woman who had shown her kindness. What had he -offered her? His help and support in her loneliness -and need. Then she remembered—and the temptation -passed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My answer remains the same, Herr Rittmeister."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His face became suffused with a dull red.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Gnädige Frau</em><span>, take care! It is not only your -brother who will suffer for your decision!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She heard the angry threat in his voice, and a feeling -of contempt and aversion, almost physical in its -intensity, came over her. She looked about her, half -unconsciously seeking some way of escape. Miles -was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes flashed rapidly -over the crowd, picking out the black evening coats, and -then for the first time she saw Arnold. She went to -meet him, regardless of prudence, of the rage in Bauer's -eyes, of the malice and suspicion that watched her -from every side. She only knew that a friend had come -to her in the midst of enemies, and that she was no -longer alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Robert!" she cried. "How glad I am to -see you! How did you manage to come here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Ambassador got me the invitation," he -said, taking her hand in his strong clasp. "God -knows it isn't the time to seek such hospitality, -but I had to see you somehow, Nora, before I went."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us get away from this crowd," she said -hurriedly. "We can't talk here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He gave her his arm and led her to one of the -supper-tables that were placed beneath the gallery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We can pretend to want coffee, or something of -the sort," he said. "No one will disturb us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked across and smiled at him with a fleeting -radiance. Oh, that English voice, that English face! -Laughter of relief and thankfulness fought with the -tears that had so long lain checked, and now struggled -for release beneath the touch of a friend's unspoken -sympathy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora, what is wrong?" he went on. "Why -wouldn't you see me? Have I offended you in any way?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Offended me!" She laughed brokenly. "Do -I look offended, Robert? Don't you know I could -have danced for joy when I saw you coming?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Reckless Nora! Her words, spoken in a moment -of relief from an agonising pressure, had not the -meaning which he believed he read out of them. Something -was not any longer so selfless, so resigned, flashed -into his steady grey eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then what is it, Nora? Tell me everything. You -know you have promised me your friendship."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She did not hesitate an instant. Those three hours -beneath the enemy's fire had driven her to exasperation, -to that point of hysterical nervousness from -which most feminine folly is committed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They forbade my seeing you," she said—"not in -words; but they said things which left me no choice. -They said I was bringing disgrace upon my husband, -and upon his name——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora! Who said that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Frau von Arnim. She hates me. And Wolff said -much the same. They can't understand a straight, -honest friendship between a man and a woman."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean it was because of me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. Of course Frau von Arnim knows everything -about—about the past, and she believes—oh, -it is too horrid what she believes. We don't need to -think about it. She has not told Wolff. If she had -he would have turned me out of the house or locked -me up in the cellar. None of them—not even he—can -understand. Oh, Robert, you don't know how -hard it was to have to send you away! You and -Miles are the only people in all this big city to whom -I can turn."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnold sat silent, staring in front of him. His -pulses were beating with a growing, suffocating -excitement. He knew by every tone of her voice, by -every glance of her stormy, miserable eyes, that she -was in his power, that he had but to make the appeal -and she would follow him out of the room whithersoever -he led her. The knowledge touched his steady-flowing -blood with fever—in the same moment he -was conscious of remorse and shame. He had -lingered at her side against every behest of wisdom -and honour, deceiving himself and her with an -assumption of loyal, disinterested friendship. It was -no friendship. Those who had judged it by another -name had judged rightly. He had come between -husband and wife, he was at that very moment, -willingly or unwillingly, playing the part of tempter -in the devil's comedy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora," he began, "perhaps I have done you harm. -Perhaps I ought not to have come to-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't care!" she retorted recklessly. "I don't -care whether anything is right or wrong. When you -came I was desperate. I hate every one here. It is -awful to feel that I belong to them. I want to get -away from here—home, to England."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora—for God's sake!" He was frightened now—of -her and of himself. "You must not talk like -that. Your home is here with your husband."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is not!" she retorted, in the same low, trembling -voice. "It is in England—it can never be anywhere -else. Oh, you don't know what I suffer!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can guess. Why don't you tell Wolff everything? -Why don't you confide in him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Everything in him revolted against his own words. -They were spoken, not out of innermost conviction, -but as a stern tribute to his honour, and the principles -which were bred into his bone and blood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have," she said, "but it was of no good. He -could not help me—no one can. It is as he said—one -must choose."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor child!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I deserve it all. It is my punishment. I did -wrong in marrying Wolff, I did wrong to make you -suffer. And now I suffer——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora!" An immense tenderness crept into his -voice. He heard it, and the next moment he had -regained his self-control. He was ashamed of the -rôle he had been about to play. "We must bear our -lot," he said sternly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The waltz, under cover of which their rapid conversation -had taken place, died into silence, and close -upon the momentary hush that followed, they heard -the dull thud of a falling body, a crash of glass and a -low hubbub, above which one loud angry voice was -distinctly audible. Nora started to her feet. Whether -she had recognised that voice, or whether she was led -by some instinct, she did not know. Her heart was -beating with fear and excitement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Something has happened!" she exclaimed. "Quick!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnold followed her in the direction whence the -sounds came. In one of the adjoining alcoves a little -group of officers had collected, and as they approached -near enough to see what was happening, Arnold turned -to Nora and tried to draw her on one side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't go!" he said. "It is some silly quarrel! -Let me see to it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no!" she returned hoarsely, and pushed -forward to the outside of the circle. She saw Miles -standing by the table; he was leaning on it as though -for support, his dress was disordered, his features -crimson with drink and passion. A young officer -had hold of him by the arm and was evidently -trying to hold him back. A few feet away Bauer -was rearranging his collar, with an assumption of -contemptuous calm. A red scar upon his cheek told -its own story.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You d——d liar!" Miles shrieked in English, -struggling against the detaining hold upon his arm. -"If it wasn't that they protected you I'd thrash you -within an inch of your life!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His opponent smiled scornfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not care for boxing-matches in a ball-room." -he said, "not even with an intoxicated Englishman. -Captain von Ebberstein, I should be very glad if you -would represent me in this matter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The one elderly officer present bowed, and approached -Miles, whom he also saluted with a faultless -formality, which contrasted strikingly with the other's -unsteady, excited movements.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps the gentleman would kindly name his -seconds," he said, speaking in broken English. "The -continuation of this affair can then be arranged on a -more becoming occasion."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnold tried to loosen Nora's grasp upon his arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I must get him out of this somehow," he -whispered. "They are trying to force him into a -duel."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles, however, gave him no time to interfere.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What the devil do you mean?" he demanded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The officer shrugged his shoulders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You felt yourself wounded in your honour and have -avenged yourself by insulting this officer here. That -can have but one meaning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I swear I don't know what you are talking about!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There are certain injuries for which there is but -one remedy," was the cold explanation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A light seemed to dawn over Miles's scarlet face. -He burst into a high, wavering laugh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You think I am going to fight a duel? You think -I'm going to make such a d——d fool of myself?" -he demanded thickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The officers looked at each other in contemptuous -silence. Bauer smiled and turned aside, as though -to spare himself the sight of so profound a humiliation. -Captain von Ebberstein alone retained his expression -of profound gravity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A gentleman is expected to give satisfaction," he -said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't care what you expect," was Miles's retort. -"I'll have nothing to do with such infernal nonsense. -He lied, and I choked the lie down his throat, and -there's an end to the matter!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"On the contrary, it is the beginning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think differently."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bauer advanced. He was swinging his white kid -glove carelessly backwards and forwards, and there -was the same scornful smile about his lips. At the -same moment his eyes fell on Nora's face, and the -smile deepened with malicious satisfaction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In that case, it is my duty to inform you that you -are neither a gentleman nor a man of honour," he -said. "As such, and as a coward, you will feel no -objection to my expressing my feelings—thus!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He flung the glove full into Miles's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a moment of expectant silence. Miles -appeared to ignore what had happened. The temporary -excitement was over, and the wine was beginning to -numb his senses with the first touch of drowsiness. It -was Arnold's opportunity. He pushed through the -little circle and took Miles firmly by the arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me pass!" he said to those about him. "This -gentleman is my friend."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles yielded passively, and no one made any effort -to detain him. The group fell back on either side, as -they would have done from people infected with disease, -and Arnold guided the wavering Miles across the -ballroom. The floor was empty, and Nora felt she must -sink beneath the hundreds of eyes that watched them. -Yet she carried herself haughtily, and the one thought -that flashed clearly through her mind, as the great -glass doors swung behind her, was that she was free—that, -come what would, she could never see those people -again. The last possibility of her existence amongst -them was destroyed. Further than that she refused -to think.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The drive home was an absolutely silent one. Miles, -yielding to the influence of champagne and the late -excitement, fell into a disturbed doze, from which -Arnold and Nora made no attempt to arouse him. -They sat opposite each other in the half-light, avoiding -each other's eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus they reached the gloomy little house which -was Nora's home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I had better help him upstairs," Arnold said -quietly. "We must make as little fuss as possible."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora consented with a brief inclination of the head. -She was past all struggle against circumstances. -Between them they succeeded in piloting Miles up the -endless flights. He seemed, quite unconscious of his -state, and talked loudly and incessantly, so that all -hope of bringing him to his room unobserved was -doomed as vain. Nevertheless, stunned and indifferent -as she was, Nora started back involuntarily as Wolff -met them in the passage. He carried a candle in his -hand, and the light reflected on his pale, exhausted -face fell also on Miles, and revealed enough of the truth. -He glanced away at Nora, and from Nora to Arnold. -His expression betrayed no feeling, but she felt that -he was trying to read into the very depths of their -souls.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please come in here," he said quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He led the way into the drawing-room and switched -on the light, and they followed him without protest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell me what happened," he commanded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnold made a movement as though he would have -spoken, but Wolff stopped him with a courteous but -decided gesture.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish Miles to tell me—if he can," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles lifted his hanging head. A silly self-satisfaction -twisted his unsteady lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can tell you right enough," he said, "only I'll -sit down, if you don't mind, I feel so infernally shaky. -It was Bauer, you know. I was having my supper -when I heard him and another fellow talking, and -though I'm not good at the jargon I caught the drift -of what he was saying. It was about a woman. He -said if he were her husband he would make an end of -such a dirty scandal, and put a bullet through some -one or other's head. You can fancy that I pricked -up my ears, and I turned and saw that he was pointing -at Nora and Arnold. That was too much for me. I -got up and asked what he meant. He told me—and -I swear it wasn't nice. He said——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff lifted his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't want to hear that," he said. "Go on."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I knocked him down, and there was the devil -of a row!" Miles laughed unsteadily. "The silly -fools wanted me to fight a duel over it!" he added.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you——?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I told them I wasn't going to make such a d——d -idiot of myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff said nothing for a moment. His whole face -had stiffened, and he was looking at Miles from head -to foot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And after that they called you a coward?" he -asked, at last.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Some rot like that——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And they were right. You are a coward—the -vilest, most pitiful coward I have ever met."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was Nora who had cried out. The insult had -fallen on her brother and herself alike, and her voice -shook with passionate indignation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her husband turned to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The man who is not ready to risk his life for -his sister's honour </span><em class="italics">is</em><span> a coward," he asserted -deliberately.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A gesture of protest escaped Arnold, who had hitherto -remained silent and motionless.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You forget," he said. "In England we do not -duel—it is not our custom."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No; you go to law and take money for your injured -honour," was the coldly scornful answer. "That is -the revenge of shopkeepers—not of gentlemen."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two men measured each other in painful electric -silence, and as they stood there face to face, the -contrast between them marked them as two great types of -two great races. The thin, loosely built Englishman, -with the long, gaunt features, confronted the German, -whose broad shoulders and massive head seemed to -make him taller than his opponent. Perhaps some -vague notion of the conflict which they represented -dawned in Nora's mind. She looked from one to the -other, terrified of the forces behind the masks of stern -self-repression, and instinctively weighing them in a -mental balance. For the first time in their married life -she was afraid of her husband. It seemed to her -that his height and breadth had increased in the -last moments; there was something gigantic in the -stature, and something bulldog, tenacious, and yet -keenly alive, powerfully intellectual in the face, -with its square chin and massive forehead. -Compared with him, Arnold, tall and wiry though he -was in reality, appeared enfeebled, almost fragile. -If the two men had fallen upon each other in -that moment—the very possibility sickened Nora's -heart with fear. She had seen Arnold's hands clench -themselves as Wolff's scornful criticism had been -uttered, and involuntarily she had taken a quick step -forward as though to fling herself between them. But -there was no need for interference. Both men possessed -admirable self-control, and in that moment at -least they respected each other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We have our own opinions on these matters," -Arnold said. "You have yours. Mr. Ingestre is an -Englishman, and does not need to conform to your -customs. He gave his opponent the lie, and has done -all that he need do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So you have said," Wolff returned calmly. "In -my eyes, and in the eyes of my world, there is still -much to be done. But that—as the one German -here—concerns me alone." He turned to Miles, who was -still seated, his face in his hands, apparently dozing. -"Go to your room!" he commanded peremptorily. -The tone of almost brutal authority acted like a goad -on Nora's tortured nerves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You speak to my brother as though he were a -dog!" she burst out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff did not answer her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go to your room!" he repeated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles staggered to his feet and tottered across to -the door. He seemed to be obeying the hypnotising -power of Wolff's voice, for his movements were those -of a sleep-walker.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good night, every one!" he mumbled. "Good night!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No one responded. The two men again faced each -other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am grateful to you for the assistance you -rendered my wife," Wolff said. "We shall scarcely meet -again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not here, at any rate," was the significant answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A curt salute, and Arnold turned away. He gave -Nora his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-bye—and God bless you!" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her lips moved soundlessly. For an instant it -seemed almost as though she clung to him. Then her -hand fell listlessly to her side, and the next minute he -too had gone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Husband and wife did not speak. Nora seated -herself at the table and buried her face in her arms. -She cried without restraint, not loudly, but with low, -monotonous, terrible sobs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her husband crossed to the door of his room. He -stood there a moment, his head bowed, listening. It -was as though he were receiving some final message -from those sounds of piteous self-abandonment. But -he did not look at Nora. He went out, and the soft -click of the lock pierced through her grief, so that she -started upright.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She saw that the door was closed, and that she was -alone.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-sea-between"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE SEA BETWEEN</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>To reach Wolff's study it was necessary to pass through -the drawing-room. On his way, therefore, Captain -von Seleneck encountered Nora, who was seated at her -table writing. He bowed, she answered with a slight -inclination of the head and he passed on, as a total -stranger might have done, into the inner sanctuary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He found Wolff at work on some nearly finished -plans. He was standing over them, and with a -compass measuring distances with a careful, painstaking -exactitude, and his face, as he looked up, though -haggard almost beyond belief, was absolutely -determined, without trace of weakness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two men shook hands and Wolff went on working.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was good of you to come, Kurt," he said. "I -know you must be overburdened with duty just now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One has always time for a comrade, and especially -for you," was the answer; "and whether you had sent -for me or not, I should have come—like a bird of -ill-omen. I felt I owed it to you as your friend, and you -would rather have it from me than from another man. -It seems, though, you know all about last night?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite enough."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was a wretched affair," Seleneck said, placing -his helmet on the table. "I got it from an eye-witness. -Of course, your precious brother-in-law had had too -much to drink. That was inevitable, and might have -been hushed up. But then came the row with Bauer. -It was obvious that Bauer was on the look-out for -mischief, and I should like to give Mr. Ingestre the -credit for knocking him down as a return for what -he said about your wife. Unfortunately, the real -subject of dispute was—money."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How did you hear of it?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ebberstein came straight to me. It was rather -decent of him. He knew, of course, that I was your -friend, and the best person to tell you what had -happened. It was obvious that you had to be told. You -see—it was not only your brother-in-law. Your—wife's -name and—and honour were dragged in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff's lips tightened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know," he said. "Go on!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, we talked it over, and I promised to come -round to you directly I was free. When I got back -this morning I found your letter waiting for me, and -here I am!" He laid his hand with an affectionate -movement on his comrade's shoulder. "Whatever -it is—I'm your man," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know, </span><em class="italics">alter Junge</em><span>. You have always stuck to -me. You were the one man in all Berlin to whom I -felt I could turn with real confidence. By the way, I -suppose I may leave the arrangement of things in your -hands?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall be proud to act for you, Wolff. To all -intents and purposes everything is settled. Ebberstein -and I talked it over last night. In the almost -certain event of your challenging, we decided that a -Court of Honour should sit this evening in my house -and that the meeting should take place at the latest -to-morrow morning. It is impossible to know when -we shall have marching-orders, so there must be no -delay. If you wish it, I shall proceed at once to Bauer -and find out whom he intends to appoint as seconds. -The rest of the formalities you can safely entrust to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you. When is the Court of Honour appointed -to sit?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If it can be managed, at six o'clock. The -circumstances are simple enough, so that the conditions -should be very quickly settled. You, of course, are -the challenging party, and the matter will come under -the head of '</span><em class="italics">schwere Beleidigung</em><span>,' so that ten paces -will be about the outcome. Are you good at that -distance?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pretty well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ebberstein says your man is a first-class shot. </span><em class="italics">Es -heisst aufpassen</em><span>, Wolff!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnim made no answer and his companion took up -his helmet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall come round to you this evening as soon as -the Court's decision has been given," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff looked up quickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you don't mind, I would prefer to come to you," -he said. "And if I might, I will stay the night at your -house. It would be better. I do not want my wife -to know anything of what is to happen."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But—</span><em class="italics">Menschenkind</em><span>! She </span><em class="italics">must</em><span> know!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She suspects nothing. You forget—she is not one -of us. She does not understand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seleneck stared thoughtfully in front of him, pulling -his moustache as though a prey to some painful -uneasiness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course I hope the very best for you, Wolff," he -said, at last, "but you are a big man, and unlucky -accidents happen. It would be pretty hard on your -wife if she knew nothing and——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It would be a shock," interrupted Wolff quietly. -"I know that. Believe me, though, what I have -arranged is for the best. She would not understand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seleneck asked none of the questions that were -burning the tip of his tongue. A natural delicacy, -above all, his comrade's face, held him silent, and it -was Wolff who continued after a moment:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In the event of what you call an 'unlucky accident' -my wife will, of course, return to her own country. -Her brother is starting for England to-morrow, so that -she will be able to accompany him. But in any -case—whether I fall or not—I beg of you to do your utmost -to shield her from all trouble—and scandal. She is -innocent—absolutely innocent. I know—you cannot -hide it from me—that you and all the rest blame her. -She is not to be blamed because she married a man -not of her own people. She is to be profoundly pitied. -That is all, and it explains everything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You talk as though you were certain of the worst," -Seleneck said. "But if everything goes well—what -then?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The compasses slipped from Wolff's fingers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"God knows!" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was no exclamation of despair, rather a reverent -surrender of a life which he could no longer shape alone, -and Seleneck turned aside, more deeply moved than he -cared to show. He had known Wolff from the earliest -</span><em class="italics">Kadetten</em><span> days, and had watched the dawn of great -promise break into a day of seeming fulfilment. With -unchanging, unenvying friendship he had followed the -brilliant career, admiring the boy's ambition ripening -to steadfast purpose, the boyish spirits steadying to a -bold and fearless optimism. And, after all, he ended -as others ended—in shipwreck—only more tragically, -with the port of Victory in sight. Seleneck -remembered his own words spoken only a few months before: -"Take care that you do not end as Field-Marshal -with Disappointment for an Adjutant!" And Wolff -was not even major, and something worse than -Disappointment, something that was more like Catastrophe, -had already chosen him as comrade.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Against Wolff's wish, Seleneck blamed Nora -bitterly. He held her responsible for every shadow -that had fallen upon the hopeful life, but he swore to -himself that she should not know it, and that he would -prove her friend for her husband's sake, whatever -befell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My will is, of course, made," Wolff said, breaking -upon his troubled reflections, "and here is a letter to -my aunt and Hildegarde; please give it to them in -the event of my death."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And for your wife?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This other letter is for her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seleneck took the two envelopes and put them in -his pocket.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think everything is settled now?" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Everything. I shall work at these plans as long -as possible, and if I get them finished I shall take them -to Colonel von Beck before I come to you. If not, I -shall leave them locked in here and bring you the key. -If anything happens to me, you will know where to -find them. They are of some importance, and I would -be grateful if you would see to it that they are taken -at once to head-quarters."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pray Heaven you may be able to take them -yourself!" Seleneck returned earnestly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wolff made no answer, but he straightened his -shoulders and held out a steady hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In any case, thank you for your friendship, Kurt," -he said. "It has been the best—no, almost the best -thing in my life."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That loyal correction touched the elder man profoundly, -and for the first time a faint trace of emotion -relaxed Wolff's set features.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do not let my wife suspect that anything serious -has passed between us," he added. "She suffers -enough."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two men embraced, and Seleneck went out of -the room with his brows knitted in bitter, painful lines. -He did not wish to see Wolff's wife, much less speak -with her, but she was still seated by the table, and as -he entered she rose as though she had been waiting -for him. She did not offer him her hand, and in -spite of all his resolutions he felt that the enmity -and distrust were in his eyes as he waited for her to -speak.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Has anything happened?" she asked breathlessly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If he could have forgotten his friend's face, he might -have pitied her in that moment. Only a few months -had passed since he had welcomed the girlish bride on -the Karlsburg platform, and now all the girlhood had -gone. She looked old as she stood there—pitiably old, -because the age lay only in the expression, which was -bitter, miserable, and reckless.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What should have happened, </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>?" -Seleneck answered, parrying her question with an -indifference which concealed a very real anxiety. He -could not free himself from the conviction that she -knew. He could not imagine it possible that she -was ignorant of the consequences of the last night's -catastrophe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know very well what I mean!" Nora said -roughly. "I ask you because you must know. Will -there be war?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seleneck nearly laughed. So much for his -sharp-sightedness! She had not been thinking of her -husband, but of herself; or was perhaps the fear written -on her face, fear for his safety? He did not believe -it. He was too bitter against her to give her the -benefit of the doubt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know no more than you know, </span><em class="italics">gnädige Frau</em><span>," -he said. "Our ultimatum has been sent to England. -The next twenty-four hours must decide."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But surely you have an idea—surely you can guess?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Gnädige Frau</em><span>, we soldiers are not politicians. We -are ready to march when the order is given. That is -the only point with which we are concerned."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He waited an instant, and then, as she did not answer, -he clapped his spurred heels together and went.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora crept back to her place at the table. Her -movements were like those of a woman who has -struggled up from a severe illness, and as she sat there -with the pen in her listless hand she asked herself if -this feeling of deadly physical inertia were not indeed -the forerunner of the definite breakdown of her whole -strength. Alone her thoughts seemed alive, to be -indued with an agonising vitality which left her no -peace or rest. They had followed her through the -short night hours of sleep, and they pursued her now -till she could have cried out with pain and despair. -They were not thoughts that helped her, or sought a -way for her out of the problem of her life. They were -of the kind that haunt the fevered mind in dreams, -pictures of the past and of the future that slipped across -her mental vision in kaleidoscopic confusion, only to -return again and again with hideous persistency. She -could not control them; she sat there and yielded -herself listlessly to their torture, leaving to Fate the -whole guidance of the future. She had no plans of her -own. Once it had occurred to her to write to her -mother, but she had not traced more than the first -few lines before the pen fell from her hand. Pride, -rather than love, held her back from the bitter -confession of her wretchedness. The thought of her -father's triumph and her mother's grief had been -sufficient to turn her away from the one path which -still remained open to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus her thoughts continued their round, and the -winter dusk deepened to evening. The servant had -forgotten to attend to the stove, and a bitter -penetrating cold ate into her very heart. She cared too -little to move. She sat with her chin resting on her -hand and watched the snow that was beginning to -fall in the quiet street. Winter—in a few days -Christmas! The thoughts took a swift turn. A year ago -she had been at home, fighting with the courage of her -youth for what she deemed her happiness. A year ago -she had slept—foolish child!—with Wolff's last letter -beneath her pillow and sworn to it that, come what -might, she would trample on home and people and -country, and follow him whithersoever he would lead -her. "Thy people shall be my people, thy God my -God!" A year ago—no more than that! And now -she sat alone, and the door was locked between them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She listened intently, and again her thoughts changed -their course. What was he doing? Was he, too, -sitting alone, as she sat, with his face between his hands, -gazing into the ruin of his life's happiness? A wave -of pity, even of tenderness, passed like a thawing -breath over her frozen misery. Could she not go to -him and put her arms about his shoulders, and plead -with him, "Let all be good between us! Take me -away from here to the other end of the earth and let -us forget! I cannot bear to suffer thus, nor to see -you suffer!" Surely it was not too late.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Urged by a hope born of her despair, she rose quickly -and went to his door. She heard him move; there -was a sound of papers being turned over, the clatter -of keys, a short sigh of satisfaction, and then slow -steps approaching from the other side. Her hand, -raised in the act of knocking, fell paralysed. The next -instant she was back at her table writing—what and -to whom she never knew. But she was laughing to -herself—that piteous heart-rending laughter of those -who find in themselves the butt for the bitterest -mockery. He had been working. Not for an instant -had he been thrown out of his course by the storm -which was threatening her with total shipwreck. -He had gone on with his plans, his maps, his calculations -as though nothing had happened, as though she -were no more than an episode in his life. He did -not care for her suffering—or what was worse, he -did not know, so complete was the severance of their -union.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A year ago! It might have been ten years, ten ages. -The moment when he had held her in his arms for the -first time might have been a dream and this the reality, -grim, cold, and intolerable. She heard the key turn -in the lock, the crack of the door as it opened. She -heard Wolff's heavy step on the parquette, and then -once more the closing of the door and the noise of the -key twice turned and withdrawn. Then silence. She -went on writing—words that had no meaning. Her -pulses were at the gallop with suspense, fear, and an -emotion which she did not stop to analyse. They had -not met since the night before. What would he say -to her—or she to him?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How cold it is!" he said quietly. "The fire -has gone out. You must be freezing!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She did not lift her head for a moment, so startled -was she by the perfect equanimity of his words and -tone. And yet it was what she might have expected. -It was all in perfect harmony with his whole character, -with his whole conduct. He had seen the last link -between them break and had gone back to his room -and worked steadily throughout the night, and now he -came and talked to her—about the fire!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Johann is out," he went on, "but I dare say I can -manage."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She turned then, and looked at him. He was kneeling -by the stove trying to rekindle the dying embers -with some sticks he had found in the coal-scuttle. He -had changed his clothes for his full uniform, and the -helmet with the plume lay at his side on the floor, -together with the sword and white kid gloves. A -bitter, sarcastic smile relaxed Nora's set lips. She -wondered that it had never struck her before how -prosaic, almost plebeian he was. The splendid clothes -had, after all, only been the gilt covering to a piece of -machinery working in blind accordance with thousands -of others in its one great task—a dull, brute thing, for -whom the finer emotions were a sealed book. She -saw him in a new light as he knelt there, his shadow -thrown up against the wall by the rekindling fire. -She felt as though he were a total stranger against -whom she felt an increasing antagonism.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently he rose, dusting his hands on his handkerchief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think it will do now," he said. "Do you want -the light? You can't possibly see."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I would rather be as I am," she answered coldly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She covered her face with her hand and appeared to -forget his presence. But in a rapid, inexplicable -revulsion of feeling, the first fear and suspense returned, -and though she did not see him she followed his every -movement, her ears translating every sound with the -precision of a second-sight. She heard him pick up -sword and helmet, then the soft, familiar click of his -spurs as he crossed the room to the farther door. Then -the sound stopped, and she knew that he was looking -at her. The silence seemed to last an eternity. It -suffocated her; she felt that if it lasted another instant -she must scream out, so frightful was the strain, and -yet, when as though obeying an irresistible behest he -came back upon his steps and put his hand upon her -shoulder, she prayed for that silence to come back, -anything rather than that he should speak to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Gott segne dich und behüte dich, meine Frau!</em><span>" -he said, and bent and kissed her hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That was all. The next minute the loud clang of -the outer door told her that he had gone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a long time she sat as though paralysed, listening -to the words as they echoed through her memory. -He had spoken in German—as he never did save in -moments of deep feeling—and there had been something -in his voice which she had never heard before. -She sprang to her feet. The earlier lassitude and -indifference were over, she felt as though every -nerve in her body had been drawn taut by some -nameless, indefinable fear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff!" she cried. "Wolff!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She knew that he was out of hearing. She knew that -if he stood before her in that moment she would turn -from him with the same coldness, the same anger. -Yet she called for him despairingly, and when she -put her hand to her face she found that it was wet with -tears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff!" she repeated. "Wolff!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The answering silence appalled her. She ran out -into the passage to Miles's door and knocked urgently. -She did not know what she wanted of him. She only -knew that she could not bear to be alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After what seemed a moment's hesitation the bolt -was drawn, and Miles's flushed face appeared in the -aperture. He looked curiously relieved when he saw -who his visitor was.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it?" he demanded curtly. "I am busy -packing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His tone gave her back her self-possession—or the -appearance of self-possession.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I only wanted to know if you were at home," she -said. "I—am going out for a little."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The idea had come to her as she spoke. The confusion -and noise of the streets seemed to offer to her -the sole antidote for the feverish restlessness which had -come over her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right. Where—where is Wolff?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The light was behind him, and she could not see his -face. Nevertheless she felt that the expression in his -eyes was tense, excited, that he was studying her as -though on her answer depended more than she guessed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He has just gone out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thanks. How long will you be?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know. I am only going to get fresh air."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You might go towards the Kriegsministerium," -Miles suggested carelessly. "You might hear if there -is any answer come from home. War may be declared -at any minute."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora made no answer. His words had set her heart -beating with pain, and the pain increased as five minutes -later she found herself being swept along in the stream -of the crowd. Everything was very quiet. It seemed -to her that not one of those with whom she was borne -forward spoke. A silence, ominous as the hush before -the storm, weighed upon all, and only the faces coming -and going out of the circles of lamp-light revealed the -forces of passion which were awaiting the hour when -they should be set free. After the first moment, Nora -ceased to notice all this. She was winged with a -panting, rapidly increasing anxiety which obliterated -everything—even to her own personality. She forgot -Wolff, she forgot herself and the conflict before her; -she had become an atom in one mighty community -with whose existence her own was irrevocably bound. -She was no longer Wolff's wife, she was not even Nora -Ingestre; she was English, and, as though from far -away a voice called her by some all-powerful -incantation, she forced her way forward. War! Her heart -exulted. War! Her excited imagination transported -her to the centre of another and a greater city; she -felt closed in on every side by a people whose blood was -hers; she heard their voices, a magic stream of -sympathy poured from them to her; she heard the tramp -of a thousand feet, the clash of martial music, the -roar of cheering, and in the brilliant light bayonets -flashed like a moving ribbon of silver. War! And -if War—why then, Victory, her country's final, grandest -triumph!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The dream vanished—nay, became a reality with -another meaning, which for a moment she could not -comprehend. The crowd about her swayed, hesitated, -and eddied like a stream that has been checked by -some unexpected force. A low murmur rose like the -first breath of the hurricane.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it?" Nora asked. "What has happened?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She forgot where she was. She spoke in English, -and the man next her answered as though he understood, -as though he had not even noticed that she had -addressed him in a foreign language. His young face -was crimson with exultation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They say there is to be war!" he answered -hoarsely. "They say there is to be war!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then she understood, then the reality of it bore -down upon her with the crushing weight of a horrible -revelation. She tried to force a passage for herself -out of this crowd of enemies, but like a straw in the -swirl of a whirlpool she was swept back. And in that -moment of helplessness the hatred which had lain -smouldering burst into full flame in Nora's heart. -Reckless and defiant, she fought against the seething -mass of humanity, and for her the struggle was a real -thing. She pitted herself against them all; alone -amongst those thousands, she felt herself indued with -superhuman strength and courage. In her exultation -she could have cried aloud: "You fools, you poor -fools, who dare to rise against US—US, the elect of -God among the nations!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a moment prescient of victory, unshadowed -by a single doubt or fear. A moment! Then the -murmur burst into a great shout, the crowd broke -asunder, and to the rattle of drums, the shrill voice -of the pipes, a regiment of Infantry passed through, -the thunder of their march sounding like some mighty -accompaniment to the high notes of the warlike music. -No confusion, no hurry, the officers at the head of their -companies, grave, resolute, filled with the consciousness -of their great calling; the men silent, their eyes -fixed ahead as though the enemy lay straight before -them, awaiting the final struggle. What it was Nora -could not, in that moment of conflicting emotion, -clearly analyse. Something had fallen like an icy -hand upon her courage. Those faces that passed so -close to her through the driving snow, column after -column, those healthy, weather-beaten faces so full -of life and strength, those broad-shouldered figures, -erect, sturdy, swinging forward as though one soul, -one mind governed each and all alike—they had made -her afraid. She felt herself flung back by a huge -pitiless Juggernaut, before which her strength broke -like a frail reed. She turned away, sick and trembling, -and as she did so her eyes fell on the man who had -retained his place at her side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Ach, du lieber Gott!</em><span>" he said, as though she had -spoken to him. "That was my regiment—the 115th. -Perhaps I shall be called in—I also have been a -soldier."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked at him and she understood. He, too, -was </span><em class="italics">Soldat</em><span>, he too could carry his gun and take -his place with the best, he too had been taught to bear -his share worthily in the highest of all human callings—one -saw the pride of it in his face. And he was not -alone. He was typical of all, of a whole nation in -arms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A sort of panic seized her. She turned and fled, -thrusting her way through the thinning crowd with -the strength of despair. Only one thought possessed -her—to get away, to escape from a force which she had -learnt to fear. Panting, disordered, scarcely knowing -what she did or meant to do, she reached her home at -last. Silence greeted her—silence and an absolute -darkness. She entered the drawing-room and turned -on the light. No one. Her husband's door, locked -when she had gone out, stood wide open.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff!" she called. Her voice shook. She -called again, and then her brother's name, but the -silence remained unbroken. She looked about her, -and her eyes chanced to rest an instant on her table; -she saw that a letter was lying on the blotting-case, -which had not been there before. She ran and picked -it up. It was addressed to her in Miles's handwriting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Johann has just run in to look for Wolff," he -scrawled. "He says war is declared, and I'm off. -There is a train leaving at eight, and I have no time to -lose. Sorry I can't say good-bye, old girl. I wish -you could come, but I suppose you can't. We'll come -and fetch you though, never fear!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A cry broke from Nora's trembling lips. He had -gone—he had left her. He had the right to go! And -she was alone. She looked at the clock ticking -peacefully on the mantelpiece. She had no clear plan, -but she saw that it was half-past seven, and she -reckoned that the Potsdamer Bahnhof could not be -more than twenty minutes away. If she could get a -cab there would be time. For what? She did not -know. She was still panic-stricken. The silence -oppressed her with a greater horror than the roaring -of the crowd. The little room, with its cheap, ugly -ornaments, had become absolutely unfamiliar to her. -She felt that it was impossible she could ever have -lived here, she felt that she had wandered into a -stranger's house, and that he might come back any -minute and find her. She ran to the door. No bond, -no link of memory or past happiness held her back. -Not even the grey </span><em class="italics">Litewka</em><span> hanging in the hall, with -its silent reminder, could change the headlong course -of her resolution. She saw it, she even stopped to look -at it. It spoke to her of a man she had known long -ago, who had gone out of her life and was no more -than the memory of a dream. Because it had been a -beautiful dream she bent and kissed the empty sleeve, -but she did not hesitate, and her eyes were tearless. -Stronger than that memory was the craving for home -and the fear of the stranger who would return and -find her. Thus she fled, and the door of the little -flat closed with a melancholy clang. It was empty -now—when the stranger came there would be no one -there to trouble his peace. She felt neither remorse -nor pity. All that had been love for her husband had -turned to bitterness. He had come between her and -those dear to her; he had insulted her and her whole -nation; he had trampled on her pride; he had deserted -her, leaving her to fight her battle alone, whilst he had -followed his ambition behind locked doors, which -even she could not open. As she drove rapidly through -the streets he stood before her mental vision, not as the -lover or the husband, but as the man who had faced -her on the preceding night, stern, resolute, pitiless, -sweeping her from his path as he would have done a -valueless toy. He had had no thought for her -sufferings, he had not even tried to comfort her, but had -gone to his room and—worked. And between this -man of iron and routine and the immense implacable -force which had revealed itself to her in the crowd, -there was a resemblance, nay, an affinity of mind and -purpose. Both threatened her home, her people, and -her life. She hated both.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Twenty minutes later she stood in the crowded -railway-station. Miles was nowhere to be seen. There -were only three minutes left before the train started, -and she had not money enough in her purse to take -her even to the coast. Tears of helpless wretchedness -rushed to her eyes. She must go—she must -escape. She could never return to the silent, dreary -home, to the man who had become a hated stranger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On every side she heard the same words, "</span><em class="italics">Der -Krieg! Der Krieg!</em><span>" They terrified her, exasperated -her. A little crowd of English people, who were -hurrying to the train, arrested her attention.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We should have left before," one of them said. -"All the places will be taken."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In her despair she could have flung herself upon their -mercy, but the crowd jostled her on one side, and they -were lost to sight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Alles einsteigen! Alles einsteigen!</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was then she saw Miles; just for one instant she -saw his face. It stood out clearly in the blur—white, -aghast, full of a terrified recognition, and then, as she -held out her hands, too thankful to think what it all -meant, it disappeared.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She stood there, stupefied, rooted to the ground. -He had deserted her—he had been afraid of her. Why? -What had happened?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Alles einsteigen! Alles einsteigen!</em><span>"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A sob broke from Nora's lips, and even in that -moment, in which all hope seemed lost, Arnold stood -at her side. She clung to him recklessly, like a child -who has been pursued by the phantom of some hideous -nightmare.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, take me with you, Robert!" she cried. -"Don't leave me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked down at her, then, without speaking, he -lifted her into the already moving train and sprang -in after her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is nothing to be afraid of, little Nora," he -said tenderly. "I will bring you home safe and -sound."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The word "home" swept aside the last barricades of -her self-control. She flung herself into his arms -weeping wildly and thankfully.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>As the dawn broke, Nora stood at the prow of the -vessel that was bearing her homewards, and welcomed -the white bulwarks of England as they rose in majestic -sovereignty out of the morning mists. Her eyes filled. -She could have stretched out her arms in her pride -and joy, and the whole world that she had left behind -had vanished like some delirious dream.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles away, in a quiet field on the outskirts of Berlin, -two men faced each other at ten paces' distance, and -awaited the signal. It was given, and two puffs of -smoke issued from the outstretched weapons, and -curled slowly upwards into the frosty air. One of the -men reeled and fell, and lay quiet, with his face in the -grass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They picked him up tenderly, and as they bore him -thence his fading eyes opened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do—not frighten her," he whispered. "Don't -let her think that it is anything—serious——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the same instant, Nora had turned joyously to -the man at her side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, thank God!" she cried. "Thank God, I -am home at last!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus she returned to her own country and her -own people, and a sea rolled between her and all -that had been.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>END OF BOOK II.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="home"><span class="bold large">BOOK III</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">THE BRIDGE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER I</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">HOME</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Mrs. Ingestre's bed had been drawn to the window, -so that she could look out on to the drear landscape -of snow-covered fields and catch the few rays of -sunshine that here and there broke through the grey -monotony of sky. It was her last stand against the -shadow which was soon to blot out the whole world -for ever from her eyes. There she had lain day after -day, and with her imagination brightened the bleak -outlook with the summer sunshine and the green trees -which she was to see no more. There she had written -cheery, hopeful letters to her daughter and had received -cheery, hopeful letters in return. There mother and -daughter, clasped in each other's arms, acknowledged -that the letters had been no more than merciful lies, -that the hope they had expressed had been disguised -despair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How blind I must have been!" Mrs. Ingestre -thought, as Nora, kneeling at her bedside, poured out -the story of her short married happiness. "How blind -not to have seen and understood!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How heartless, how self-absorbed I was not to have -known!" Nora reproached herself, as she looked -into the well-loved face on which death had set his -unmistakable seal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But it was not of death which they spoke. It was -as though the elder woman's life was already closed, -as though she already stood afar off and saw the world -and life with other and clearer eyes. There was no -regret or fear in her attitude towards the unknown -future, and that calm, high confidence inspired Nora -with a curious awe which hushed all tears and passionate -grief. She looked up to her mother as to a being -high above all earthly sorrow, yet linked to the world -by an infinite, all-comprehending pity. That pity -was Nora's one refuge. The wild delight which had -borne her up through that long night journey had died -almost in the same hour that her father had clasped -her in his arms and killed the fatted calf in honour of -the long-despaired-of prodigal. Something like an icy -disappointment had crept into her aching heart as she -had woken the first morning in her girlhood's room -and realised that this was her home, the home she -had longed and prayed for, in which she had chosen -to pass her life. She had laughed scorn at herself -and had greeted the hideous church-spire which peered -over the leafless trees with a seeming new-born affection, -and to her father and brother she maintained that -same seeming of delight and thankfulness. Before -her mother she had broken down for a moment, and -the stormy sobs which had shaken her had not wholly -been the expression of a pent-up longing. She had -recovered herself almost at once, the grave, clear eyes -of the dying woman warning her, perhaps, that her -secret was no longer entirely hidden, and now she -knelt and told her story as she would have told it -twenty-four hours before, with bitterness, resentment, -and self-pity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was all a dreadful mistake, mother," she said. -"I believed I loved him enough to forget whom and -what I was, but I could not. Every hour showed me -that I was a stranger, and would always remain a -stranger. I could not grow to love his people, and -they hated me. You don't know how they hated me. -When trouble began and there came the first rumour -of war, they did not let a chance pass to hurt me. -There were moments when I felt I could bear it no -longer, but I held out until that night. Then—when -I was in that crowd, and heard them cheering, and -knew that it was against me—against us—I knew -that I could never go back, that the strain of pretending -or trying to pretend would send me mad. And -oh, I longed so for my home and for you all! It was -just as though I were in some frightful exile among -enemies——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So you escaped," Mrs. Ingestre interrupted gently. -"It was natural, and yet——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora looked into her mother's face, and wondered -at the depth of pity which the low voice had betrayed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And yet——?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was thinking of Wolff," Mrs. Ingestre said. "He -must have suffered terribly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff!" The name burst almost angrily from -Nora's lips. "How should he have suffered? Men -of his stamp do not suffer. They have no room in their -lives for such a feeling. Do you know—after that -ball, when he had practically thrown Miles out of the -house, when he knew that I was miserable, broken-hearted, -he left me without a word, and worked with -his door locked between us. He cared -nothing—nothing—only for his ambition and himself. They -are all like that, and their wives are just their servants, -who must be satisfied with whatever is left over for -them. </span><em class="italics">I</em><span> could not stand it. It was like living with -some piece of machinery——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora, he is your husband, and you loved him!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora sprang to her feet. The reproach had stung -her, the more so because at the bottom she knew that -her indignation was feigned. The panic and delirium -of that night was over, and left her terribly calm, -terribly cold, terribly clear as to what she had done.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I did love him," she said—"or at least I thought -I did. It is all the same thing. I was carried off my -feet by the strangeness and newness of it all. How -should I have known then what it meant to leave -one's country and one's people? Leave them! If -that had been all! But to go against them, to -have to forget that one had ever loved them!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was trying to rouse herself to those feelings -which had been the cause of all her past misery and -whose crisis had brought about the final desperate -action. She was trying to rouse in her mother -sympathy for those feelings, and it goaded her to know -that both efforts failed. Mrs. Ingestre was gazing out -of the window, and her pale face was still grave and -pitiful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You see things with your own eyes, my Nora," -she said, with a faint, wistful smile. "I see them -from a long way off, and with eyes that suffering has -cleared from all prejudice and hatred. And then—I -was very fond of Wolff."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora turned away, her small hands clenched.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That—that means I have done wrong?" she -said almost fiercely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have I blamed you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, but——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can have pity for both, Nora. I can see that -you had much to bear—perhaps more than was tolerable -for one so young and headstrong. But I can see -Wolff's side too. I can see him come home that night -and find you gone——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She stopped as though her imagination had led her -before a sorrow for which she found no words, and -Nora too was silent. Profoundly embittered and -disappointed, she stood looking at the still beautiful -face of the woman in whose sympathy she had had -implicit trust. Was, then, everything to fail her, -even in her home, the home which she had seen in her -exile's dreams? Was she to stand alone? Was there -no one who would understand her and all that she -had endured?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When Miles believed that war had broken out -he would not stay an hour longer," she said at last, -and her voice had a defiant note. "He could not bear -to be away from his own country. Why should I, -because I am a woman, feel less than he?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because you are a woman, and because you feel -more, the greater sacrifice is asked of you," was the -quiet answer. "In this life there is always some one -who must bring the sacrifice, and it is always the one -who feels deepest and loves most. That is why it is -ordained that women should suffer for their children, -and often for their husbands. It seems at first sight -unjust. It is really the greatest compliment which -God and Nature can pay us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I am unworthy of that compliment?" Nora -demanded hotly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will go back, Nora."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To my husband? Never." For the first time -she spoke with real conviction, with an almost -despairing conviction, "That is impossible. You do not -know how impossible. Even if I would, Wolff would -not take me back. He said so himself. I had to -choose once and for all, and I have chosen. And, -besides, there are the others—the people I know; -stiff, straitlaced people who would never understand -and never forgive."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nevertheless, when the war is over you will go -back," Mrs. Ingestre persisted steadily. "You will -go back and bravely take up the work which lies before -you—the work of reconciliation. You will fight the -unhappy influence of the narrow-hearted fools and -braggarts who have helped to bring catastrophe in -your life and upon whole nations. You will retain -your independence, your strength, your character; -but in opening your heart to the goodness and strength -in others you will bind them to you as no weak -surrender could ever have done; you will win a greater, -nobler victory than any victory won with the blood -of men; you will build a bridge between Wolff's heart -and yours; you will help build the bridge between -the country of your birth and the country of your -adoption!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her voice rang triumphant, prophetic. For one -brief moment Mrs. Ingestre, dying though she was, -called back her lost youth and rose to the heights of -youth's hope and faith.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora took a deep breath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What can I do—a woman against thousands?" -she demanded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your best—your duty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have tried, and I have failed. I have no power -to build the bridge——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her mother's eyes rested on her face, and in their -depths there was a serene confidence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"God has given you the power," she said gently. -"God has given you an instrument which cannot fail -you. My Nora"—her voice failed her an instant—"a -little child shall lead them"—she finished from -afar off.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora covered her face with her hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is too late," she said huskily. "Not even that -can help me now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her mother made no answer. She lay still with -closed eyes, and a peaceful smile smoothed away the -lines of pain from the sweet mouth. She was so quiet -and the smile was so unchanging, so full of an almost -unearthly wisdom, that every protest died in Nora's -heart. She crept nearer to the bedside, awe-struck and -afraid, as though already the curtain had fallen which -was to divide them in the future life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother!" she whispered faintly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The serene eyes opened, the smile became infinitely -tender.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My little girl—leave me now. I am so tired, so -weary. I shall be glad to sleep. Remember what I -said. Kiss me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora obeyed. For one instant she lay like a child -in the feeble arms, overwhelmed by a frightful -forewarning of a pain she was yet to know in all -its intensity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good night, my darling," Mrs. Ingestre whispered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora crept softly away. She thought that her -mother had spoken from amidst her dreams and had -forgotten that it was still daylight. Yet the tender -farewell haunted her as she went downstairs, and it -haunted her long afterwards, when the speaker's face -was obscured in the shadows of memory.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She found her father in the old familiar dining-room, -waiting for her. The months had made his shoulders -more stooping, his manner feebler, more helpless. He -looked so really wretched that she forgot her own grief -and put her arms about him and kissed him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is she doing?" he whispered, as though -they stood in the invalid's room. "Is she asleep?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; I think so. Our talking made her very tired."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A groan escaped from the man's quivering lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The doctor said we must be prepared any moment -for the worst," he said. "It is awful—I can scarcely -bring myself to believe that it is God's will. How can -I live without her?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We must help each other. And we must make -the last days happy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yes; we must try," he agreed, beginning to -pace restlessly backwards and forwards. "We must -make her happy. Nora——" He stopped and looked -piteously at her over his spectacles. "Nora, you -think she was happy?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Happy?" she echoed. Somehow, the thought of -her mother's happiness had scarcely ever occurred -to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I mean—I have been thinking, since I knew that -we were to lose her, that she would have been happier -in another sort of life—that I did not think enough -about her: I was always so busy with the poor and -the parish. It is perhaps foolish of me. A man of -sensitive conscience is liable to unreasonable remorse. -I should be glad—I should be easier in my mind if you -gave me your opinion."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother never complained," Nora said slowly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He nodded, as though her words had confirmed his -protests against his own self-reproach.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No; she never complained," he said, with a sigh -of satisfaction. For a moment he was silent, then he -turned to her again. "I cannot tell you how glad -I am that you are here," he went on. "Weeks ago, -when your mother became so ill, I wanted to send for -you both—you and Miles—but she would not let me. -Miles worried her, and she did not want your first -months of married life overshadowed. Those were -her very words. It seems almost providential that -this war should have brought you home in time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What news is there?" she asked quickly. "Is -it really declared at last?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Surely, surely!" her father said. "The rumour -was only a little in advance. It must come to war; -there is no possible alternative. We have gone too -far to draw back. But there is the squire, and Miles -with him. Probably they are bringing the news."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went to the French window and threw it open, -so that the new-comers could come in straight from -the garden. Nora hung back, though her pulses were -beating with excitement. The news that the declaration -had been a false alarm, picked up with a reckless -haste by Miles—perhaps for his own reasons—had not -shaken her from her purpose. Arnold had assured her -that it was only a question of hours before the rumour -became truth, and she had believed him. But there -had been a strange delay, a strange hush; there had -been a talk of "negotiations," and it had made her -afraid. She did not know of what she was afraid—whether -it was of the war or of peace. She only knew -that the uncertainty was unbearable. As she saw the -squire, she knew that, one way or the other, the die -was cast. Fury and indignation were written on -every feature of the big, clean-shaven face; the small -eyes, sunken under the bushy brows, glistened like two -dangerous points of fire; the lips were compressed till -they were almost colourless.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment he stood in the narrow doorway, his -huge shoulders spreading from side to side, glaring into -the room as though he sought his deadliest enemy. -Then, as he saw the unspoken question with which -the occupants greeted him, he nodded and, entering, -flung his riding-crop on to the table with a loud, -ringing curse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Rev. John glanced anxiously at the ceiling, as -though he thought his wife might have heard, and the -squire, catching the movement, hastened to apologise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Pon my word, I didn't mean to make such an -infernal row," he said. "If I hadn't done something -of the sort I should have had a fit. It's enough to -send a man down into his grave with disgust. It's -enough to make a man shake the dust off his boots -and—and——" He stopped, stuttering with passion, -and the Rev. John turned involuntarily to Miles, who -had followed the squire into the room and was standing -with his hands in his pockets, gazing sulkily at the -floor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We've thrown up the sponge," he said, as though -he knew he had been appealed to. "We've eaten -humble pie, and the war's off. That's all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, that's all!" the squire burst out. "An -English Fashoda—that's all! We're the laughing-stock -of Europe with our threats and demands, and then -this d——d surrender. They call it a compromise. -It's not what I call it. We've just licked their dirty -boots—and I'd like to see every man-jack of the -Government hanged and quartered!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was almost unintelligible in his fury, and the -Rev. John made a mild gesture of protest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As a man of peace, I must rejoice," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As an Englishman, I curse!" the squire retorted, -shaking his fist in the air. "It was a cowardly thing -to do. We were ready and waiting for war. Every -man of us had put his best foot forward. All my young -fellows were learning to shoot and ride—I spent a small -fortune on 'em; and now, what's the good? Their -time and my money thrown clean away, and the -humiliation of it all into the bargain! And to think -we might have thrashed those confounded ruffians -and settled them once and for all!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He paced up and down, grinding his teeth, and Nora's -eyes followed him with a critical wonder. By a swift -turn of the imagination, she was again in that huge -crowd, watching company after company of trained -men as they tramped past in stern, resolute silence. -Was it possible that this great blundering squire could -talk of thrashing that mighty force with men who were -learning to shoot and ride? Was it possible that she -had ever thought as he thought?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stopped in front of her, with his legs apart, and -fixed her with a fierce, choleric stare.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come now, Miss Nora," he said, "you have been -out there and know the blackguards. You must have -hated 'em pretty well to have thrown up everything -and come home?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Something like an electric shock passed through -Nora's body.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I—hate them?" she stammered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; Miles has been telling me the whole story. -No offence meant, of course; but between such old -friends as you and I, it was a d——d mistake to have -married that foreign fellow. I always said so, didn't -I, Parson?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Rev. John sighed resignedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I said so myself," he answered; "but they were -so determined that I could do nothing. It was a -terrible blow to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It made me sick when I was there," Miles interposed -viciously, "to think that I had to be civil to -those boors because my sister had married one of -them. I tell you, I blessed the war. It gave one -the chance to pay back."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You! What could </span><em class="italics">you</em><span> have done?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The question came from Nora, and her voice sounded -curiously unsteady.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miles nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I could have done a lot more than you think, my -dear sister," he said pointedly. "I could have put -more than one spoke in your fine baron's wheel if I -had chosen. And glad I should have been to have -done it—swaggering bully that he was!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miles—you forget—you are speaking of my husband!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was leaning a little forward. Her cheeks were -hot and her eyes alight with a passion which should -have warned him. But Miles merely laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your husband? My dear girl, I expect he has -divorced you by now as a runaway and I don't know -what else besides. They are pretty summary with -that sort of thing in the Fatherland. Imagine"—he -turned to the squire—"they treat their women-folk -like underpaid servants. The fine gentlemen go about -in their many-coloured coats, and the wives can patch -together what they can on nothing a year. Poor -wretches!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They don't mind," Nora put in sharply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It wouldn't make much difference if they did. -And you needn't take up the cudgels like that! You -grumbled enough that time Wolff said you couldn't -have a new dress for the Hulsons' ball!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He gave it me," she retorted, in the same tone of -repressed irritation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; after you had worried enough. But I doubt -very much if you would have got it if I hadn't been -there to back you up. And the insolence of those -fellows! He as good as called Arnold and me a pack -of cowards because we wouldn't have anything to do -with their idiotic duelling. As though we didn't -know what a farce it all was! Whew! I am glad -we are both well out of it, and I wish to goodness we -could have given them a lesson they would not have -forgotten in a hurry."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A bully is always a coward," the Rev. John said -sententiously. "I have always heard those Prussians -were terrible bullies."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should think they are!" Miles agreed. "To -hear my dear brother-in-law talk, one would have -supposed that I was a raw recruit, or some inferior -beast. I held my tongue for Nora's sake, but I tell -you, there were moments——" He clenched his fist -significantly, and Nora broke into a short angry laugh. -"You were always a model of diplomacy, Miles," -she said. Her tone was contemptuous, but her brother -chose to take her words literally, and the other two -were too absorbed to notice her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And that," said the squire furiously, "is the -people we have kow-towed to—a lot of swaggering -braggarts who don't know what to do with themselves -for conceit. This comes of all our rubbishy peace-loving -notions! The world only gives us credit for -being afraid!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went on explosively tirading, but Nora no longer -listened. She was thinking of her mother's words and -wondering if these then were the narrow-hearted fools -and braggarts against whom she was to struggle. And -in that moment the struggle began in her own heart. -She went to the window and tried to shut her ears -against all that was going on about her. She tried -to understand herself and the strange, conflicting -emotions which had come to life in the last few minutes. -Everything that the squire and her brother had said -goaded her to a hot retort. She felt herself quivering -with indignation—because they were abusing a people -she hated, the man whom she had deserted because she -no longer loved him! She </span><em class="italics">wanted</em><span> to ratify every word -they said; she told herself that she had the right to do -so, that it was all true; and yet her whole spirit rose -in arms against their attack. What was worse, she -felt a vague antipathy for these three men. She -thought the squire coarse and arrogant; his entry -and his greeting to her had been rough and without -the respect to which she was accustomed. And why -could Miles do nothing without his hands in his pockets? -Why, when he sat down, had he to be either -nursing his leg or "slouching"? Why was her father -so weak and fussy-looking? And then, to her horror, -Wolff stood before her eyes. Was it a feeling of pride -which crept over her, pride in his upright bearing and -dignity? </span><em class="italics">He</em><span> had never been rough or rude to her. -His courtesy to her and all women had been unvarying. -She turned quickly away, trying to stop her own -thoughts. The squire was standing in his favourite -attitude, with his legs wide apart, still tirading -impartially against the German people and the English -Government, who refused to wipe them off the face of the -earth. Miles had collapsed into the most comfortable -arm-chair, his head thrown back, his hands plunged -deep in his pockets. The Rev. John stood between -them, a picture of helpless dejection. It seemed to -Nora that they had each taken up the attitude in -which she hated them most. Hated! It was the -word her thoughts had uttered. It could not be -recalled. If she hated them—why, then, she had lost -everything: her husband, her people, her own -nationality! Why, then, she was nothing, she belonged to -no one, no link of love bound her to any living being. -Only her mother was left—her mother and that one -other being the knowledge of whose existence had -come too late to save her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the same moment that her full misery broke -upon Nora some one tapped at the door and, without -awaiting an answer, a pale, terrified-looking servant -rushed in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you please, sir," she stammered, "will you come -at once? The mistress is—asleep—and we cannot -wake her——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Rev. John uttered a smothered cry, and without -a word to his guest hurried from the room. Miles -followed him. But Nora remained quietly by the -window and took no notice of the squire as, with an -awkwardly expressed hope that "it would be all right," -he left her to herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She knew what had happened. Her mother had -bidden her good night, and night had come. She was -alone—in the whole world alone and friendless.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="exiled"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER II</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">EXILED</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>There is only one sorrow in life which is really great, -and that is the loss of those we love. The other -sorrows seem great so long as we have been spared the -hardest blow which life can deal us, and then we -understand that, after all, they were very petty and that -if we had chosen we could have borne them patiently, -even cheerfully. Loss of health, loss of wealth, loss of -position—they are all bad in their way, and as a rule -we make the worst we can of them; but not till we -have to bear them </span><em class="italics">alone</em><span>, without the support of some -familiar, loving hand, have we the right to cry out that -we can endure no more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And for the first time in her life Nora knew -loneliness—not the loneliness which she had felt in her -husband's home and amongst her husband's people, for -that had been temporary, a state which could, if -necessary, be overcome by a return to those whom she had -left of her own free-will and whose love and sympathy -she could still claim. </span><em class="italics">This</em><span> loneliness was final, -unbridgeable. Death had raised up a wall between her and all -return. The one being whose hand could have -comforted her, in whose arms she could have found peace -and rest, had passed beyond recall, and it was in vain -that, in a childish agony of grief, she flung herself down -by her mother's sofa and pleaded with the dead not to -leave her comfortless. There was no answer. The -patient, noble woman who had lain there day after -day without complaint, watching the slow, painful -fulfilment of her destiny, had gone and would come -no more. She had gained her freedom. Even in her -own stormy sorrow Nora realised so much—that her -mother was free and that her life had been a long, bitter -imprisonment, to which it would have been cruel to -recall her. She had gone willingly, passing out of -a sphere in which she had always been an exile, and -taking with her the last—perhaps the only link which -had ever bound Nora to her home. In those hours -when Nora had hated the stuffy little flat and had -longed for the scent of the home flowers, it had always -been of her mother's garden which she had thought; -when she had seen the picture of the Vicarage rise -before her eyes it had always been her mother's room -which had stood out clearest, which had tempted her -by the tenderest recollections. And now that her -mother had gone, that home had ceased to be her -home. The flowers were dead in the garden, the -rooms empty of the old haunting charm, the glamour -which her exile's memory had cast about her old life -became dull and faded. She saw now an ugly red-brick -building, with dreary, silent rooms, and people -with whom she had never been in sympathy save in -her imagination. This last was the bitterest -disappointment of all. In her anger against Wolff she had -expected and believed so much of these "home people," -and they had, after all, failed her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As she sat alone in the sad, empty room, she felt that -those five days in England had taken from her not -only the dearest hope but the last illusion. Her -mother had said, "You do not belong here," and it -was true. She was an exile in this narrow little world, -and between her father and herself there was an -insurmountable barrier of taste and thought. It had -always been there, just as, like her mother, she had -always been an exile, but in her girlhood's days it had -been less pronounced, less clearly defined. Now that -she had had experience in another world, she could no -longer bear the trammels of her father's conventional -prejudices. She had hated and despised her mode of -life at Wolff's side; she began to see, though dimly, -that it had had at least its great moments, that it -was at least inspired by a great idea worthy of the -sacrifices it demanded. Here there was no sacrifice -and no idea—only vegetation, and her companion was -not even a useful machine. He was a weak muddler, -and his world was a little village which muddled along -in a muddle-loving country and believed great things -of itself and its institutions. Just as Nora had found -the squire ridiculous with his two-week soldiers, so her -father irritated her with his mingled piety, pusillanimity, -and timid self-satisfaction. Not even their common -grief had brought them together. They had stood -wordless by their dead, and when the Rev. John had -seemed about to speak, she had fled from him, dreading -that his words might destroy the impression which the -serene sleeper had made upon her mind. Since then -they had hardly spoken, and Miles had wandered -between them like a sullen, dissatisfied ghost. Somehow, -he felt that his influence over Nora was at an end, -that from the moment her feet had touched her native -soil she had turned from him and his explanations with -something like repugnance. He did not trouble to -seek the reason—indeed, she could have given him -none; but the shadow between them threw Nora -back into even deeper loneliness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And the wonder which had come into her life—the -miracle which had been revealed to her in her mother's -eyes? She only knew that its revelation had come -too late. Though all that was best and noblest in her -stirred as if beneath some divine touch, she felt none of -the exultation, none of the sanctified happiness which -might have been hers. The gift which was to come to -her was like a golden link in a broken chain, like a jewel -without setting—beautiful but imperfect. She was -indeed an exile and bore the exile's curse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus, when the first tempest of grief had passed she -faced the future with the first fear turned to conviction. -She had lost everything, even to her nationality. Those -few months had been sufficient to imbue her, without -her knowledge, with ideas and principles which made -her a stranger in her own land. She could no longer -admire without reservation; at every turn she was -forced to compare and criticise with the same -sharpness as she had compared and criticised in her German -home, and a word against the people to whom she still -theoretically belonged was sufficient to arouse the same -indignation and resentment. Poor Nora! It was -a bitter self-revelation which she had to face, and the -only being who could have helped her in this conflict -between the dual affections had been laid only a few -hours before in the dreary churchyard whose walls -she could distinguish through the leafless trees. The -sight of those walls and the red spire of the church -awakened her grief to its first intensity. She sprang -up from her place by the empty sofa and hurried out of -the room and out of the house. On her way she passed -her father's room. The door stood open, and she saw -him seated by the table, with his face buried in his -hands. She knew that he was crying, but she shrank -swiftly away, with the horrible conviction that she -despised him. She wondered if Wolff had cried when -he had returned and found that she had left him. -She felt sure that he had gone on working, and the -picture which rose before her fancy of a strong, -broad-shouldered man bent over his maps and plans in -unswervable devotion caused her a strange sensation -of relief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was already late afternoon as she left the village -behind her. She had no definite goal save the one to -be alone, and beyond the range of prying, curious eyes, -and almost unconsciously she chose the path over -the fields where, months before, she had gone to meet -Robert Arnold. Then it had been late summer, and -it was now winter, but so vividly did the scene recur -to her that when a tall, well-known figure strode out -of the mists towards her, she could have believed -that all the preceding months, with their condensed -history of bewildering change, had been no more -than an hallucination and that she was once more Nora -Ingestre, setting out to learn the mysteries of her own -heart. But the next instant her hand was taken, and -she was looking into a familiar face which was yet -so altered that she would have known alone from -its lines of care and grief that time had moved on, -bringing with him his inevitable burden.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Robert!" she cried. She saw his look of pain, -and wondered at it. She did not know that he, too, -had drawn the same comparison between then and -now, and had been shocked by the change in the face -which so short a time ago had been that of a -girl—nay, almost of a child.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor little Nora!" he said under his breath. -"Poor little Nora!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She lifted her hand as though to stop all words of -commiseration, and he turned quietly and walked at -her side. He understood that he was helpless, that -he could do nothing to comfort her in her grief, and -yet he felt, too, that she was glad of his presence and -silent sympathy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All at once she herself broke the silence, and her -voice, save that it was intensely weary, sounded -untroubled and calm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I did not know you were here," she said. "I -thought you were with your regiment."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have my Christmas leave," he answered. "They -have no special need of me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a bitterness in his tone and words which -she understood. She looked at him, and saw that he -was frowning as though at some painful reflection.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There will be no fighting?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, none. We have given in. I suppose"—he -controlled his voice with an effort—"I suppose we -had to."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Had to?" she echoed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We were not ready," he said between his teeth. -"Nothing was ready. I could never have believed it -was possible had I not seen it with my own eyes. If -there had been a war, it would have been a repetition of -1870, with London for a Sedan, and they knew it. -No horses, reduced regiments, a crowd of half-trained -men pitted against a nation which has been ready -for war any day in the last years! The thing was -obvious."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You were so sure," she said dully. "Everybody -was so sure."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No one knew until the test came," he answered. -"The outside of things was well enough, and there -were plenty of able statesmen and generals to tell us -that we had never been better prepared. We like -listening to that sort of talk, and we like believing -it. A belief like that is so comforting. It frees us -from all sacrifice—all duty. 'When the call comes, -we shall answer to it,' is our patriotic motto. 'An -Englishman is worth three foreigners.' And then, -when the call comes, a handful of half-trained youths -who cannot stand a day's march, who can scarcely -ride, scarcely shoot, is all that we have to show for our -boasting." He clenched his fist with a movement of -angry despair. "It's all wrong, Nora, all wrong! -We have grown too easy-going, too fond of our smooth -comfort. Even if we knew that our national existence -were threatened, we should not rouse ourselves. We -should vote for a few more Dreadnoughts and make -a great outcry and bang the Party drum with talk. -We think, because we have the money, that things -can't go far wrong—we have won before, so we think -there is a kind of lucky star to save us, however little -we have deserved success. We can't see that the world -has changed, that we have to face a race that has all -our virtues in their youth and strength—all our -tenacity, all our bulldog purpose, all our old stoicism; -and we—God knows! We never forget our grand -heritage; we never forget our forefathers nor the -glory they won for us. But we forget to honour them -with our own worthiness. How will it all end?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whether it be in peace or in war, surely only the -fittest can win," she said thoughtfully. "It will not -be the richest, or the best-armed nation, but the best, -the worthiest. Pray God we may prove ourselves to -be that nation!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pray God!" he echoed thoughtfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a minute they walked on in the gathering mist -without speaking. Both were plunged in sad -reflection, but in Nora's heart there had dawned a new -relief, a new peace. Arnold had spoken without -arrogance, with a proud humility, with a respect and -admiration for those whom he had hitherto despised. -She did not know what had brought about the change, -but it comforted her, it brought her nearer to him; -in some strange way it revived all her old love for -England and her people. The squire's swaggering, her -brother's calumnies had maddened her. She discovered -dignity and candour in Arnold's words, and -her aching heart filled with gratitude.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly he stopped short and faced her. She -saw then that a new thought had arisen in his mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora, have you heard from your husband?" he -demanded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She shook her head and went on walking, quickly, -almost nervously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you going to return to him—soon?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know it is impossible that I should ever -return," she answered. "In his eyes, at least, I have -no excuse for what I did—none. He would never -forgive me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not if he loved you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She shrugged her shoulders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Even if he did—even if he forgave me, I could -not return. I left him because I had ceased to love -him, because the distance that separated us was too -great. I did not understand his way of life, nor he -mine. He said things I shall never forgive."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not even if you loved him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not love him!" she returned passionately. -"He forfeited my love. He did not care enough to -fight for it. How should I grow to love him again?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Arnold drove his stick into the soft turf. His face -was white and deeply troubled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I feel as though I had done you a great wrong, -Nora," he said. "I did you a wrong already in the -beginning when I tried to force my love upon your -inexperience—when I tried to bind you to me without -having really won you. I failed, and I was justly -punished. But I wronged you still more when I sought -you out and offered you my friendship. I deceived -you and I deceived myself. It was not friendship, -and people were right to give it another name and to -look askance at my part in your life. Nora, it is my -one excuse that I did not know. I believed absolutely -in my own loyalty, until that night of the ball. Then -for the first time I knew that I was dangerous, and -whether I had been recalled or not, I should have -gone away. But Fate was too strong for me. If I -had really been your friend, I should not have taken -you with me that night. It was a mad thing to have -done. But everything happened so quickly that I -lost my self-control, my reason. Now I feel as though -I had put an insurmountable barrier between you -and your husband and had ruined your happiness—perhaps -your life."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had listened to him in unbroken silence, her -brows puckered into painful, ominous lines.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You say you are not my friend?" she said. -"What are you, then?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One who loves you," he answered, "and one who -has never really ceased to long for you as his own."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you talked of friendship!" she cried.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"God forgive me. Nora, a man does not know his -own heart until the moment comes when he is put -to the test as I was. I believed it possible that I -could care for you in that way. I should have -known better."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I also should have known better," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No; you were so young. You could not have -known what a man is capable and incapable of -performing. The blame is all mine. And if I have helped -to bring sorrow into your life, my punishment will be -more than I can bear."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So much genuine grief and remorse revealed itself -in his shaken voice that she laid her hand pityingly -on his arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't talk as though it were alone your fault," -she said. "It was mine as well. If I could not have -judged your heart, I could have judged my own."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora!" he exclaimed, horror-stricken.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I did not love you," she went on, almost to -herself, "and I do not love you. I do not believe that -I love any one on earth; but I always knew that I -might grow to love you. And—perhaps I have -something of my father in me—I should not have run so -great a risk."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora!" he repeated, and beneath the horror -there rang a painful joy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She stopped and looked him sternly in the face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do not misunderstand me, Robert. I did not -love you. Then I loved my husband, and I do not -believe you really came between us. There were -other things, and you were only the instrument that -helped me to escape from a life that was driving me -mad. But, because of all that had been between us -and that which might so easily have been, I ought never -to have allowed you a place in my life. It was wrong, -and the punishment is just this—that now our -friendship is an impossibility."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He walked on as though he could not bear to listen -to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know, I know!" he said, impatient with pain. -"I know it is true. I feel no friendship for you—only -an immense love which has not learnt to be selfless. -But it will come; it shall come. I swear it. -And when it comes—will you never be able to trust me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know," she said listlessly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do not punish me because I have been honest -and confessed what I might have kept hidden."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should have known sooner or later," she -answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had taken the village path, and already the -spire of the church rising above the clustering houses -warned them that their moments together were -numbered. As though by mutual consent, they -stopped and stood silent, avoiding each other's eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I want you to know one thing," he said at last. -"Whatever happens, I shall love you all my life, and -that if you need me I shall prove worthy of your trust. -Promise me you will turn to me as you would to a -friend. Don't take that hope from me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How can I take hope from any one?" she answered; -"I who have no hope——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She broke off, and he took her hand and forced her -to look at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Nora!" he cried despairingly. "You are so -young, and you speak as though your heart were -broken!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not know whether it is broken-hearted to feel -nothing," she said. "If so, then I am broken-hearted."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora, I believe you love your husband in spite of -all you say. You must go back to him. Where there -is love there must be forgiveness. You will forgive -each other. You will put aside misunderstandings -and foolish prejudices, and start afresh."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He spoke with a painful enthusiasm like that of a -man who is willing to trample on his own happiness; -but Nora shook her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No one understands how impossible it is," she -said. "If there were nothing else to separate us, there -would be the bitterness and hatred between our -countries. It sounds terrible—absurd; but that is -the truth. It was that hatred which poisoned our -life together, and if I could go back it would poison -our whole future. Oh——" she made a little -passionate gesture of protest. "Why are we so mean and -petty? Why cannot we watch the rise of another -nation without hatred and jealousy? Why cannot -we be generous and watch with sympathy and hope -her progress along the path which we have trodden? -Why cannot we go forward shoulder to shoulder with -her, learning and teaching, fearing no one? If we are -worthy of our great place in the world, we shall keep -it, no matter how strong others may grow; if we are -unworthy, nothing will save us, from downfall—not -all our ships and wealth. It seems so obvious, and -yet——" Her momentary outburst died down to the -old listlessness. "I talk like that because I have -suffered it so in my life," she said; "but it is all -talk. At the bottom, the antagonism is still there. -Nothing will ever bridge it over." She held out her -hand with a wan smile. "Good-bye, Robert."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-bye; and God bless you, dear!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He watched her move slowly homewards. He -suffered intensely because he knew that her pain was -greater than his. He knew that the antagonism she -had spoken of surrounded her whole life, and that she -stood alone, without husband, without people, and -without country.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="revelation"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER III</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">REVELATION</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Miles Ingestre met his sister in the hall, and without -a word drew her into the sitting-room and closed the -door. His action had been so sudden, his grip upon -her arm so fierce, that she stood looking at him, -too startled to protest. In the half-darkness she -could only see that he was very pale and that he -vainly strove to control the nervous twitching of his -lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it?" she asked. "Has anything happened?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Some one has come," he said breathlessly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She did not answer. A black veil had fallen before -her eyes, and an emotion to which she could give no -name, but which was so powerful that she stretched -out a groping hand for support, clutched at her throat -and stifled her. She did not ask who had come. She -knew by the very change in herself, by the violent -shock which seemed to waken her stunned senses -to a renewed and terrible capacity for suffering.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff—my husband!" she stammered. "Where is he?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is not Wolff," Miles retorted rapidly. "It is -that Hildegarde von Arnim. She arrived half an hour -ago, and says she must see you at once. She won't -speak to either of us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hildegarde? You must be dreaming! She is -too ill to move."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She looks ill, but she can move all right. At any -rate, she seems to have come a long way to find you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I must go to her," Nora said dully. "Where is -she? Why don't you let me pass?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look here, Nora." He took her hand again, and -his tone became half cajoling, half threatening. "I -can guess what she has come about. She wants to -get you back and put you against me—against us all. -She will tell you all sorts of lies. But you won't -believe her, and you'll stick to us this time? Swear, -Nora!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She tried to shake herself free.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why should I swear? You know I shan't go back—I -couldn't; and she would be the last person to want -it. She has come about something else; perhaps -about the——" She stopped with a quick breath -of pain. "Let me go, Miles!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right. But you'll stand by me, Nora? And -you won't believe her lies?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know what you mean. What are you afraid of?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing; only I know they'll do anything to—to -put us in the wrong. They hate us like the devil. -I—I wanted to warn you, that's all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora did not understand him. His manner, over-excited -as it was, frightened her even more than this -strangest of all strange visits. What miracle had -brought the feeble invalid over the sea to seek her—what -miracle or what catastrophe? And as she entered -the drawing-room and saw the beautiful, exhausted -face and stern, unsmiling eyes which had once -been all love and tenderness for her, the fear grew -to something definite, so that she stopped short, -hesitating, overwhelmed by that and by a sudden shame.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But of shame Hildegarde Arnim saw no sign. She -saw defiance in that waiting attitude, and not even -the pathos of the black dress and pale, sad face could -touch her. She rose, but gave no sign of greeting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My mother sent me to you," she said. "I am to -tell you that your—that Wolff is dying."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She seemed to take a cruel delight in the change -which came over the other's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dying," she repeated deliberately. "Dying."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora clasped her hands in an agonised movement -of appeal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know—I have heard you. For pity's sake, tell -me——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You need not be afraid. I shall tell you everything, -to the last detail." Hildegarde seated herself again. -Her clenched hand rested on the table and her eyes -fixed themselves on her companion with a detestation -almost violent in its intensity. "It is over a year -since you became engaged to my cousin," she went on. -"It is not nine months since you became his wife. It -is not a long time, but it was long enough for you to -ruin the best, the noblest man whom I at least have -ever met. You see, I declare openly what you no -doubt know and have triumphed over. I love Wolff, -and I have loved him all my life. If he had made me -his wife, I should have deemed myself unworthy of -so much happiness, and it would have been a joy to -sacrifice myself for him. No doubt you find such an -idea poor and contemptible; the idea of sacrifice for -those one loves is perhaps out of fashion in your -country. But, be that as it may, it was an idea -which served you well at the time. Because I loved -him, and because his happiness was really dearer to -me than anything else on earth, I gave him up to -you——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You gave him up to </span><em class="italics">me</em><span>!" Nora echoed blankly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"On the same day that he asked you to be his wife -I had given him his freedom from a bond which, though -it had never been openly acknowledged, was still -binding on him. You did not know that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora sank down in the chair by which she had been -standing. Her strength had left her; she looked -broken, and there was something intensely piteous in -the clasped hands upon her lap.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How should I have known?" she asked almost -inaudibly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You might have known," Hildegarde retorted. -"You knew Wolff. He was a man of honour. He -would never have yielded even to his love for you -until he knew himself absolutely free."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a cutting significance in her tone which -could not be mistaken. Nora lifted her head and met -the scornful eyes with despairing resolution.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You say that against me, because I was not free," -she said. "But you do not know everything; you -have no right to judge. My heart was free—my heart -belonged to Wolff and Wolff only."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You were bound to another man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By a foolish letter written in a moment of despair. -You have said that I despise all sacrifice. But that -letter was my sacrifice to you, Hildegarde."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must be mad," was the contemptuous answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have not spared me," Nora went on recklessly. -"I shall not spare you. That night when you were -delirious I learnt of your whole love for Wolff and all -that you suffered. I also loved him—I also suffered, -and I distrusted my own strength. I tried to raise a -barrier between myself and him, so—so that we could -never come together. I thought if I could say to him -'I belong to another,' that I should save you from -heart-break and myself from a mean, ungrateful act. -But the barrier was not high enough or strong enough -to shield me from my own weakness. Believe me or -not, as you will—that is the truth. In all my life I -have loved only one man—my husband."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a moment's silence. Hildegarde sat -stiff and upright, her lips firmly compressed, her -expression unchanged. But her voice betrayed the -rising of a new emotion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I must believe what you have told me," she said. -"In that case, what you did was pardonable—even -generous. But that is not all. That was not what -made me hate you. I hate you because you have -ruined Wolff's life. For the first month or two you -made him happy because you were happy yourself. -Then I suppose you tired of it all—of the poverty -and the restrictions and the sacrifices. It did not -satisfy your grand English tastes to go poorly dressed -and live in small, ill-furnished flats. It was beneath -your dignity to see to your husband's dinner; it did -not suit you to sit at home alone and wait for him, -much less to make his friends your friends and join in -their life. Though they were honourable, good people, -who brought their sacrifices uncomplainingly, they -were beneath you. You despised them because they -could not afford to live as you considered necessary, -because they cooked their husbands' supper and wore -old clothes so that he might go into the world and -represent his name and his profession worthily. You -hated them——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not till they hated me!" Nora broke in, with a -movement of passionate protest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They did not hate you—I know that. They -welcomed you as a sister and a comrade, until you -showed that you would have none of them—until -they saw that you despised their ways and their ideals. -Yes; they have ideals, those poor dowdy women -whom you looked down upon, and their first and -highest ideal is their Duty. Mark this! They bore -with you and your contempt and English arrogance -until you insulted that ideal. They bore with you -as a comrade until you proved yourself unworthy of -their comradeship, until you brought disgrace upon -your husband's name and profession with your -profligate brother and your lover——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hildegarde—how dare you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I dare because it is the truth."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Both women had risen and faced each other. And -yet in that supreme moment of bitterness, something -between them—their hatred and distrust—yielded. -Accuser and accused read in each other's eyes a misery -too great for hatred.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know everything," Hildegarde went on rapidly. -"Wolff has not opened his lips, but Seleneck told us. -We know that Wolff took upon his shoulders the -consequences of your and your brother's conduct. He -accepted the challenge that your brother refused, and -he went to his death without a word of reproach or -anger. And that same night you fled with the man -whose name the whole world coupled with yours, and -took with you the one thing of value which you could -steal from your husband—his soldier's honour."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora put her hand to her forehead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Please—please tell me what you mean!" she -cried piteously. "I don't understand—his soldier's -honour——?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know nothing of the papers that were stolen -on the same night of your flight?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Papers——?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mobilisation papers—the papers on which Wolff -had been working. When Seleneck came to see you -and tell you what had happened, he found that you -had gone, and that Wolff's room had been broken -into. There was only one explanation."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Listen!" Nora leant against the table. She was -breathing in broken gasps that were like sobs, but -there was such clear resolution in her eyes that -Hildegarde waited in stern, rigid patience for her to speak. -"I will tell you all I can," she said at last, in a low, -toneless voice from which she had driven every trace of -emotion. "I can't tell you all, because I have not -the strength—you must just believe me, Hildegarde, -when I say that I loved Wolff and that I was true to -him—yes, right to the bitter end. You must try and -understand that I suffered. I was English. I couldn't -help myself. I was English to the bottom of my heart. -I loved my country as you love yours, and I could not -give it up. When the trouble began I was miserable: -everything goaded me. Oh, I was all wrong, I know. -I let myself be carried away by it all. I let myself be -influenced. There were the Bauers—you won't -understand that, perhaps, but they flattered me. They -offered me friendship where others only followed me -with their criticism; and when I saw where it would all -lead it was too late. Miles had fallen into their hands. -There were terrible debts and money troubles, and -I dared not tell Wolff. I knew he would send Miles -away and—and I was afraid of the loneliness."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of the loneliness!" Hildegarde echoed scornfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, can't you understand? I was a stranger -among you. I was young and headstrong and had -made so many enemies. I had no one to turn to—only -Miles and Captain Arnold. They were English; they -understood a little what I felt. And I suffered, -Hildegarde. It was as though I had been infected with -some frightful fever which left me no calm, which -magnified every word and look into a taunt and an -insult. Once I </span><em class="italics">did</em><span> fight against it because I </span><em class="italics">did</em><span> love -Wolff and because I knew that our whole happiness -was at stake. But in the end it was too much for me. -That night when we all thought war had been declared, -I could bear it no longer. I rushed home. My -brother had already gone——" She stopped a moment -as though some terrible new thought had flashed -through her brain, and the last trace of colour fled -from her cheeks. "I followed him. At the station -I could not find him, but Captain Arnold was there. -He took me with him—home to my people. I did not -go to him intentionally: I could not have done so, -because I did not love him and never had loved him. -I went home. That is all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And the papers?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They looked each other in the eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think I know. God pity me—</span><em class="italics">that</em><span> disgrace is -indeed mine!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no, not yours! Nora——." The old tone of -tenderness had crept into the shaken voice. She said -no more, and they stood silently side by side, -overwhelmed with the disgrace that was another's, but -which yet seemed to surround them with its ugly -shadow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was Nora who at last broke the silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He must have been mad!" she said, as though -she were thinking aloud. "He must have thought -that he was serving his country."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Hildegarde stopped her with a scornful gesture.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He hated Wolff," she said, "and for the good -reason that Wolff had helped and befriended him for -your sake. He paid his debts with money which my -mother had given him——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't, Hildegarde! Don't tell me any more—not -now. I cannot bear it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The agony in her voice silenced the reproach. -Hildegarde Arnim turned away, as though she, too, had -reached the limit of her strength.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not here to hurt you, but to save Wolff," she -said brokenly. "He will not save himself. Ever -since he knew what had happened he has lain with his -eyes closed and will say nothing. Only when Captain -von Seleneck asked him about the papers, he said -that he was to be held responsible. They will arrest -him if they are not brought back in time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no, no!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hildegarde laughed harshly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It will be only a formality," she said. "They -know that he is dying, and perhaps they will believe -that he is innocent. But he has taken the responsibility -upon himself and must bear the punishment. -It was Captain von Seleneck who told me to go to you. -He has taken Wolff to his house, where my mother -and his wife are nursing him. Seleneck thought you -might have pity, and the papers are valueless now that -there is to be no war. Oh, I know that Wolff is -suffering! He was so proud of his work and his duty and -his great trust. You cannot understand all that it -means to him. Oh, Nora, let him die in peace! Give -him back his good name—he treasured it so——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All the hatred and cruelty had gone. She held out -her hands to Nora in desperate, almost humble, -pleading.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora stood rigid, staring in front of her with blank, -terrible eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is dying!" she said under her breath. -"He thinks I was so cruel and wicked! Oh, Wolff!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When he is asleep he calls your name," Hildegarde -went on, "and once he was half delirious, and he told -me that you were not to worry—that he was going -to die—he wanted to die. And it is true: he wants -to die. He has lost everything—everything. That -is why I have come—to bring him back at least his -honour. Oh, Nora, help me! Remember how he -loved you!" She drew a letter from her pocket and -forced it into Nora's powerless hands. "He wrote -that before it all happened: it was his farewell to -you. He is dying. Read it! Surely it will tell you -how he loved you! Surely it will make you pitiful! -Nora, if I have been unjust and cruel—forgive -me. Think that I am mad with grief—I loved him -so——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She broke off. Nora was reading her husband's -letter, and a silence as of death seemed to hover in the -little room.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"MY BELOVED WIFE," Wolff had written. "It -seems strange and foolish that I should sit down and -write to you when you are in the next room and I -could go in to you and tell you all that I have in my -heart. It seems all the more foolish because this -letter may never come into your hands. Somehow, -though, I think that it will, and that, though I am a -clumsy fellow with my pen, you will understand better -than if I spoke to you now. Now there is a terrible -sea between us which neither of us can cross. You -are bitter and angry with me because I am a soldier -and must do my duty even if it is against the one I -love most on earth. I am sad because I have lost -my wife. You see, my dearest, I know everything. I -have known quite a long time, and pitied you with -all my heart. I pitied because I understood. You -were too young to know your own heart or to measure -the sacrifices which you would have to bring, and it -was my fault that I did not measure for you and make -you understand. Well, after it was too late, you -found out for yourself, and the old love came back -into your life, and I lost you. I never asked you about -that 'old love.' I trusted you, and I believed that -the day would come when you would tell me everything. -Fate has ordained otherwise. I shall never -understand anything, save that you </span><em class="italics">did</em><span> love me, and -that for a time we were wonderfully happy in our -love. Now that it is all over, I can still thank you -for that time. It was worth all that it has cost, and -perhaps you too will not regret it—now that it is over. -My beloved wife! I suppose it had to end thus: -there was too much between us. I suppose—old -</span><em class="italics">Streber</em><span> that I am, with my cut-and-dried ways—that -I could not fit into your life nor fill it as another might -have done, and you could not understand that it was -not want of love that made me fail. You could not -understand that I could love you and yet ask you to -sacrifice so much. If you had been a German woman -you would have understood better. You would have -seen that a soldier must belong to his duty, and that -his wife must help him at whatever cost. But you -were English, and there was no reason why you should -have brought sacrifices to a country that was not your -own. I can understand that: I always understood, -but I could not help you.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There was only one way for me to go, and you had -to choose whether you would follow me or go back. -I wonder how you would have chosen? Thank God, -you need not be put to the test. I could not have -borne to see you suffer. When you receive this you -will know that you are free and can go back to your -own people and your own country. It is that freedom -from which I hope more than I would dare to hope if -I went to you now. You will be able to forgive me -because it is easy to forgive those who have passed out -of one's life for ever. You see, I know that I need -forgiveness. In my selfishness I tempted you into a -life too full of sacrifice and hardship, and I failed you, -my darling, sometimes because I was too miserable to -see clearly, sometimes because I did not understand, -but never because I did not love you. Forgive me, -then, and perhaps—if you can—let a little of the old -love revive. It can do no harm, and it makes me -happy to think that it is possible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do not try to find out how this has all happened. -All you need know is that I am to fight a duel -to-morrow, and that the chances are against me. I -know you despise duelling, but this time it has at -least its use—it will set you free.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is a poor letter, dearest, in which I have said -only half of all I long to say. If you read in it one -word of reproach or regret, believe that it is only my -clumsy pen which has failed me, and that I have -nothing in my heart but love for you. In all I am -to blame, and I am glad that it has been spared me -to see you suffer. Do not be sad over all that has -happened; do not let it cast a shadow over your -life. You have given a few months' happiness to a -man who has never for one instant counted the price -too high. You made me very happy. Let that be -my thanks to you.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"God bless you, my little English wife! In my -mind's eye I can see you sitting at your table in the -next room, with your heart full of bitterness against -me; or perhaps you are thinking of—— No, I will -not believe that. I would rather believe that it is -only bitterness, only sorrow because you are torn -between your country and your husband, and can -find no peace. The peace is yours now; and when -the time comes for you to find your happiness in -that old love, remember that I understood and -that I blessed you.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"WOLFF VON ARNIM.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"P.S.—The Selenecks are your friends, and have -promised to help you. Trust them implicitly."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Nora lifted her eyes to Hildegarde's. The two -women who a short half-hour before had confronted -each other in hatred and defiance now met on the -common ground of a great sorrow. The barriers -between them were yielding fast, were being swept aside. -Their hands met, and that touch broke down the last -restraint. The next instant they were clasped in -each other's arms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I loved him so!" Nora sobbed wildly. "I loved -him so—and I have made him unhappy. I have -killed him! Oh, Hildegarde, why did I come into -his life? You would have made him happy. You -loved him, and there was nothing to divide you. Why -did you not keep him? Why did you give him back -his freedom?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I could not have made him happy, Nora," Hildegarde -answered. "I think there are some natures -which must come together though the world stands -between, and even if it be to their own ruin. Wolff -belongs to you. He will belong to you to the very end."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora lifted her face. She had become suddenly -calm. She held herself with the dignity of -resolution.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I to him," she said. "I belong to him -and to no one else in the world. And whatever -separates us, I shall find my way back. There -must be—there is a bridge across. And when I -have crossed it I shall atone as no woman ever -atoned before. I shall blot out the past. Take -me with you, Hildegarde; take me back to him—now, -this hour!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hildegarde kissed her. She could have said that -there is a "too late" in life, and that that "too late" -had come. But there was something in Nora's face—a -hope, a confidence, a strange look of clarified -happiness which held her silent. Without a word, Nora -turned and left her. She seemed guided by a sure -instinct, for she went straight to her brother's -bedroom. As she entered he was hurriedly cramming -some clothes into a portmanteau, and his white, foolish -face was blank with fear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She came towards him, and he knew that no -explanation was needed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Give me the papers you stole from my husband!" -she said quietly. "Give them to me at once."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A sullen, defiant answer trembled on his lips, but -she stopped him with a single gesture.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not ask you to explain or excuse yourself," -she said. "I know what you are, Miles, and I should -not believe you. Nor do I appeal to your better -feelings. I appeal to your common sense. The papers -are useless to you. They might only bring you into -trouble. Give them to me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He gave them to her without a word of protest. Her -paralysed him; and only when she had reached -the door he stammered a single question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where are you going, Nora?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am going home—to my husband," she answered, -"and I pray with all my heart that I may never see -your face again!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-bridge-across"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE BRIDGE ACROSS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Selenecks' little drawing-room was almost in -darkness. Only the pale, flickering reflection from -the lights in the street beneath fell on the farther wall -and threw into ghostly prominence the figures of the -silent occupants. Frau von Seleneck was seated at -the table, still bent over a letter which she had ceased to -write long before the dusk had crept in upon them. -Her husband knelt beside her, and his hand held hers -in a strong, tender clasp.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus they had been ever since a hard-drawn sob had -told him that the letter was no more than a pretence. -He had seen the tear-stains and the piteous smudges, -and he had knelt down as though he knew that his -closer presence comforted her. Neither had spoken. -They seemed to be always listening, but the silence -remained unbroken. Once, it is true, a carriage had -rattled along the street and they had looked at each -other, but it had gone on, and neither had made any -observation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From where they sat they could see across the road -into the rooms of the house opposite. They were -brightly lit, and in one a noble young fir-tree glittered -in all the glory of tinsel and golden spangles. Husband -and wife glanced quickly away. It was Christmas -Eve. A tiny little shrub stood in the corner, unadorned -save with the candles and one single star. Frau von -Seleneck had bought it at the last moment, because -she could not bring herself to let the great evening -pass without that time-honoured custom, but she -had cried when she had fixed the star on the topmost -branch, and since then she had never dared look -at it because of the tears that rose in spite of every -heroic effort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently the clock upon the mantelpiece began to -chime. They counted the hurried, cheery little strokes -under their breath. Seven o'clock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They must be here soon," she said in a whisper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If the train is not late," he answered, trying to -speak in a matter-of-fact tone. "They are usually -late on Christmas Eve."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," she said. "How terrible and long the -journey must seem to her!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If she cares!" he said bitterly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His wife's hand tightened on his.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think she cares," she said with an almost -awe-struck earnestness. "I am nearly sure. It is not -alone that she is coming—it is something else. Kurt, -haven't you ever had a letter—just an ordinary -letter—from some one dear to you, and haven't you had -the feeling that it contained a message of which the -writer had written nothing—as though the words -had absorbed the look of his eyes, the touch of his -hand, and were trying to transmit to you all that -which he had tried to hide behind them? That was -how I felt when Nora's telegram came. It was just -an ordinary, ugly telegram, and yet I knew that she -cared—that she was sorry."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pray God he may live to see her!" he answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pray God that he may live to be happy with her!" -she added reverently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He shook his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't pray that," he said. "I can't ask -impossibilities of God. And how should Nora make -Wolff happy now? She failed before, when her task -was easy. What should give her the strength to succeed -in the face of the distrust and hatred which she called -to life by her own folly?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall help her," Elsa von Seleneck returned -proudly. "I shall stand by her for Wolff's sake and -because we were once friends. After all, she has -atoned—she is coming back. That must be the hardest -thing of all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She will need more than your help," was the grave -answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then God will give it her!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A tear splashed on to the note-paper, and he -pressed her hand tighter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Steady, Frauchen!" he whispered. "I hear -some one moving."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They listened breathlessly. A second cab rumbled -along the street, but this time they did not hear it. -Their whole attention was concentrated on that -neighbouring room, where life and death kept their silent -vigil, and when suddenly the door was softly opened, -both started as though an icy hand had touched -them on the shoulder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A faint light came through the open doorway, and -against the pale background Frau von Arnim's figure -stood out in all its old noble stateliness. They could -not see her face, but they felt that it was composed -and resolute in its grief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think they have come," she said. "I heard a -cab outside."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Somewhere downstairs a bell rang, and Seleneck -rose softly to his feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will light the lamp," he said, but his hand shook, -and his wife took the matches from him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me do it, Kurt. I am crying—I can't help -it; but I am quite steady. </span><em class="italics">Gnädige Frau</em><span>, how is he?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sleeping," was the answer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Poor Frau von Seleneck was not as good as her word. -She could not manage the wick, and the glass shade -threatened to fall from her nervous hands. In the -end she lighted the little candles on the Christmas -tree.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We can at least see each other," she apologised -humbly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus it was by this frail yet steady light of hope and -happiness that Nora entered and stood before them. -She was not alone, and yet, as though of intention, -Hildegarde had drawn back from her so that she stood -apart, looking silently from one to the other. No one -spoke. They too looked at her without a gesture of -greeting, even of recognition. It was as though she -were a total stranger, an intruder, an enemy. And -yet that haggard young face might have touched -them. It was almost terrible in its look of suspense -and agony.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have I come in time?" she whispered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her voice broke the spell. Frau von Arnim nodded. -Nothing had changed in her expression, but its very -calm was a reproach and a punishment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is alive," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nora took a step forward so that she came within -the pale circle of light. For the first time they saw -each other full in the eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have brought the papers—the proof that he -is innocent?" Frau von Arnim asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have brought everything—more than you know; -and I have come to be forgiven."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A dead, blank silence. Suddenly she stretched out -her hands in piteous, reckless appeal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Forgive me. I am guilty, but not so guilty as you -think. I have been foolish and self-deceived, but not -heartless, not wicked. Forgive me! Hildegarde has -forgiven me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was like a broken-hearted child crying in helpless, -lonely repentance, and with a quick movement Hildegarde -slipped her arm about the trembling shoulders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will know everything soon," she said. -"Then you will see that we have all been to blame—that -we all need to pardon and to receive pardon. -Forgive now—for Wolff's sake!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Something quivered in Frau von Arnim's frozen face. -The little woman by the tree was crying openly, and -her husband turned away as though the light blinded -him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora," Frau von Arnim said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That was all. Nora took a stumbling step forward; -the elder woman caught her and held her. They -clung to each other in a moment's agony of grief. -Years of life would not have brought them together -nor broken their stubborn pride. The hand of death -had touched them, and pride and hatred vanished. -The barriers had yielded and left free the road from -heart to heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Forgive?" Nora whispered brokenly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Very gently she was drawn towards the closed door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us go to him," Frau von Arnim said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was her forgiveness, and they entered the room -together, hand clasped in hand. For one instant -Nora shrank back as she saw the white face on the -pillow. Then she loosened herself from her -companion's clasp and went forward alone. They did -not follow her. It was as though at this hour of -crisis she had claimed her right above them all, as -though without a word she yet demanded back -from them what was her own; and they watched -her in awed, unbroken silence. She took the white, -feeble hand upon the coverlet, and kissed it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff!" she whispered. "Wolff!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No one before had been able to rouse him from that -terrible, death-like slumber. His eyes opened, and he -smiled peacefully at her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My little wife!" he answered faintly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She crept nearer. She put her arm beneath his head -so that he rested like a child against her breast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have come back," she said. "I have brought -your papers and your honour. You are to be quite, -quite happy. I will tell you everything——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not now," he interrupted gently; "not now. -I have so little time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His voice was pitifully thin and broken. It was as -though the great, powerful body had become inhabited -by the soul of a child. She drew him closer to her -with a movement of infinite tenderness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Only one thing—I did not leave you because I did -not love you—or because of—any one else. Wolff, -you must understand that. I was mad—the thought -of war and my own people made me forget all that you -were to me. But now I know, and you must know -too. You shall not think so badly, so wickedly of me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He shook his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think nothing bad of you, Nora."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know I love you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have a good, warm heart," he answered faintly. -"You are sorry for me—and I thank you. I am glad -that I am going to set you free."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For the first time she understood. He did not -believe her, and he was dying. The blow was almost -annihilating in its force and cruelty. Hitherto she -had defied Fate; it crushed her now beneath its -inevitableness, and a cry of agonised revolt burst -from her lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wolff, you must believe me! I can't begin life -again without you—I can't! You must not leave -me—you cannot leave me lonely!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't you see that it is for the best, my darling? -It was not your fault. The sea between is so broad -and strong——" He broke off suddenly, and a curious, -unsteady light flickered into his glazed eyes. "Don't -let her know it is anything—serious," he whispered. -"She will be frightened—and she must not be -frightened. She has gone, you say? With Arnold? That -is a lie. I knew she was going—I sent her. Her -mother is ill. The papers——? Oh, my God! my God!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She clasped him tighter in her arms. The frightful -outbreak of delirium—frightful because of its -extraordinary yet heart-broken quietness—shook her to -the soul. She looked about her, and in an instant -Hildegarde was at her side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora is here," she said. "She will never leave -you again. She has brought the papers. They are -safe—the papers are safe."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She repeated the words over and over again, as -though she were striving to break through the cloud -in which his mind was shrouded. He thrust her from -him, dragging himself upright in a stiff attitude of -salute.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Herr General, I am responsible—alone responsible. -No one else is to blame. The papers?—I can tell you -nothing but that I am responsible. Tell him, Seleneck! -Tell him I boasted about them and was careless—anything! -Swear—give me your word of honour! I -am dying—what does it matter? No, no; you are not -to send for her. She is to be happy—and free—among -her own people. You must not blame her. It was -too hard. We—must forgive each other. Oh, Nora! Nora!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am here, Wolff, my darling, my husband! I -have come back—I will atone to you with my whole -life. You don't know how I love you—more than -people, more than country, more than the whole -world! I have learnt just in the last hours that -there is no one else who matters to me but you, and -you alone. I will make you happy—so happy, my -dearest!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In that moment she remembered the power that had -been given her, and her voice rang with the exultation -of victory. He heard it, and the painful excitement -died out of his eyes. The mist of dreams shifted, and -he picked up the thread as though the short burst of -delirium had never been.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora, why do you look at me like that? What -is it you are trying to say to me? There is something -new in your face. Nora, help me! I am groping in -the dark——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She held him closer to her, and it seemed to her that -the threatening hand of Fate sank, and that Death -drew back as from a greater power.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am happy, Wolff—happier than I have ever been. -I know that our happiness has begun at last."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is too late—too late, Nora!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not if you live, my darling. And you will live, -because you will not leave me comfortless—because -there is another to come who will need you——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She broke off. He was looking at her as he had once -looked at her before—as though he were trying to -pierce down to the uttermost depths of her soul. A -look of dawning wonder was in his eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora—is it possible——?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She smiled at him triumphantly through the blinding -tears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is possible; it is true. And even if it were not -true, I should hold you back alone—with my own -hands. I have been through fire, Wolff. I have -grown strong, and my strength is my love for you. -Don't you know that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Kleine Frau</em><span>, it is so hard to believe, and yet—yes, -I believe I </span><em class="italics">know</em><span>! It has come to me suddenly. -It is as though a cloud were lifting. Before, you -seemed afar off; a great distance separated us, and -when you spoke I could not hear or understand what -you were saying to me—what you were trying to tell -me. Nora, I can hear and understand. Oh, Nora, -how good it is to have you again, my little wife! -How good God is!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A change had come over his face. It seemed -illuminated from within, so that the shadow of death was -forgotten, obliterated by the strength of his joy -and love.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nora, I believe I have been living for this! I have -been like Tristan—do you remember?—fighting back -death until my Isolde came. I have been waiting and -waiting as he waited. There was a great sea between -us; but I knew that you would come in time. I saw -you in my dreams—at first a long way off, and then -nearer and nearer—Nora! I understand everything—you -don't need to tell me: there is a bridge between -us; you are quite close to me; you have crossed—my -wife!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He tried to lift her hand, as though he would have -kissed it, but his strength failed him and he lay still, -with his head resting peacefully against her breast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently he sighed. And with that sigh something -in the quiet room seemed to change. The shadows -lifted, and through the open doorway the single -glittering star upon the solemn fir-tree shone with a greater -brightness. Hildegarde knelt down by the bed and -buried her face in her hands. The sounds of her -smothered sobs alone broke the peaceful hush about -them. But Nora seemed not to hear her. She bent, -and her lips rested on the quiet, untroubled forehead. -A great calm and thankfulness had come over her. -She knew that all was well.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Love had pronounced the last triumphant word, and -the sea between them had rolled away for ever.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>PRINTED BY -<br />HAZELL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD. -<br />LONDON AND AYLESBURY.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold x-large">Mills & Boon's New Novels</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><em class="italics small">Crown 8vo, 6s. each.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><strong class="bold">THE MOUNTAIN OF GOD</strong><span>. E. S. STEVENS. -<br /></span><strong class="bold">DIVIDING WATERS</strong><span>. I. A. R. WYLIE. -<br /></span><strong class="bold">THE SOCIALIST COUNTESS</strong><span>. HORACE W. C. NEWTE. -<br /></span><strong class="bold">THE PALACE OF LOGS</strong><span>. ROBERT BARR. -<br /></span><strong class="bold">PHILLIDA</strong><span>. THOMAS COBB. -<br /></span><strong class="bold">THE NEEDLEWOMAN</strong><span>. WINIFRED GRAHAM. -<br /></span><strong class="bold">THE TWO FACES</strong><span>. MARIE VAN VORST. -<br /></span><strong class="bold">ODD COME SHORTS</strong><span>. MRS. ALFRED SIDGWICK -<br /></span><strong class="bold">THE LEECH</strong><span>. MRS. HAROLD E. GORST. -<br /></span><strong class="bold">CAPTAIN SENTIMENTAL</strong><span>. EDGAR JEPSON -<br /></span><strong class="bold">THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA</strong><span>. GASTON LEROUX. -<br /></span><strong class="bold">DOWN OUR STREET</strong><span>. J. E. BUCKROSE. -<br /></span><strong class="bold">MR. PERRIN AND MR. TRAILL</strong><span>. HUGH WALPOLE. -<br /></span><strong class="bold">BODY AND SOUL</strong><span>. LADY TROUBRIDGE. -<br /></span><strong class="bold">CHILDREN OF THE CLOVEN HOOF</strong><span>. ALBERT DORRINGTON. -<br /></span><strong class="bold">THE YEAR'S ROUND</strong><span>. MAUD STEPNEY RAWSON. -<br /></span><strong class="bold">THE QUEEN'S HAND</strong><span>. MRS. BAILLIE REYNOLDS. -<br /></span><strong class="bold">ISABEL</strong><span>. DOROTHY V. HORACE SMITH. -<br /></span><strong class="bold">WHEN THE RED GODS CALL</strong><span>. BEATRICE GRIMSHAW. -<br /></span><strong class="bold">SOME EXPERIENCES OF A POLITICAL AGENT</strong><span>. ANON. -<br /></span><strong class="bold">THE SEA-LION</strong><span>. PATRICK RUSHDEN. -<br /></span><strong class="bold">813</strong><span>. A New Arsène Lupin Adventure. MAURICE LEBLANC. -<br /></span><strong class="bold">WITH POISON AND SWORD</strong><span>. W. M. O'KANE. -<br /></span><strong class="bold">SPORT OF GODS</strong><span>. H. VAUGHAN-SAWYER.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="backmatter"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst" id="pg-end-line"><span>*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>DIVIDING WATERS</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="cleardoublepage"> -</div> -<div class="language-en level-2 pgfooter section" id="a-word-from-project-gutenberg" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<span id="pg-footer"></span><h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><span>A Word from Project Gutenberg</span></h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span>We will update this book if we find any errors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This book can be found under: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/49460"><span>http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/49460</span></a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. -Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this -license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works to protect the Project Gutenberg™ concept and -trademark. 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