A Noble Name Part 21

"Oh, to have to stay here when they are so happy in Vienna" sighed Magelone. "And all for the sake of Johann Leopold, who cares as little for me as I do for him! And, of all places, in this horrid Donninghausen, where there never is the slightest diversion!"

Her thoughts were interrupted by a slight noise; the door was cautiously opened, and a tall figure appeared on the threshold. "Otto!" she exclaimed. And the next moment he clasped her in his arms and kissed her.

"But, Otto," she said, reproachfully, as she extricated herself from his embrace, "what is the matter with you? what brings you here? It must be something very extraordinary," she added, startled by the dark fire in his eyes and the strange rigid look about his mouth.

He laughed bitterly. "You would ridicule me if I told you that a desire for a reconciliation with you brought me hither, and more still when you hear that I have other reasons to give other people. But all the same it is a fact that the breach between us grows more intolerable to me every day."

"Why did you not write?" asked Magelone.

"Because you made Johanna your go-between. She wrote me so cold and stiff a note. The wind at Donninghausen seems to blow from a quarter strangely unfavourable to me."

Magelone knew only too well what had influenced the tone of Johanna's letter; she blushed slightly and turned away her eyes, but before she could reply Aunt Thekla and Johanna entered the room.

"You came to escort your grandfather?" the old lady said, after salutations had been exchanged. "Unfortunately, he left this morning."

"So they told me in Thalrode," the young man replied. "But I am not going to Vienna. I have come to you, dear Aunt Thekla. You must help me.

Come, sit down, and let me make my confession. Please stay; you must hear it too," he added, as Johanna and Magelone were about to leave the room.

Aunt Thekla sat up stiffly. "Confession?" she repeated, in a troubled tone. "Otto, you have not been----" she hesitated.

"Playing again?" He completed her sentence, as he took a chair opposite her. "Yes, dear aunt; unfortunately, I have broken my promise and played, and have lost. Do not reproach me, I entreat; I do that myself.

Rather let us consult how I can be extricated from my embarra.s.sments; nay, even more than that,--how I can be relieved in my extremity."

"Otto, how could you?" Magelone exclaimed, reproachfully. Aunt Thekla stared at him in dismay, and Johanna was mute with terror.

Otto shrugged his shoulders. "It is easy to ask and to condemn. Try being mewed up in a wretched garrison, where you have lost interest in what amuses others, because you have learned to wish for something better and higher. Find yourself disappointed in your wish,"--here both Johanna and Magelone were convicted by his reproachful glance,--"and then in your desolation and distress see others enjoying the intoxicating, all-engrossing delights of play. I wonder whether your lofty virtue would hold out?"

Aunt Thekla was weeping. "Poor boy!" she whispered to herself. Johanna's heart beat fast. Magelone smiled, half in scorn, half flattered. After a pause Otto went on, turning to Aunt Thekla: "Gambling debts must, as you know, be paid within four-and-twenty hours. I had nothing, and only knew of one way out of the difficulty; that is, I gave a note. If it is not paid in a week----" He broke off and looked gloomily on the ground; then added, "When the invitation to Vienna came, I instantly concluded that grandpapa would accept it, and I determined in his absence to apply to you, dear aunt. You will not leave me in the lurch."

The old lady sighed. "Certainly not, if my few hundreds can help you----"

"I need nearly three thousand thalers," Otto interrupted her.

"Three thousand!" cried Aunt Thekla. "Wretched boy! Never in my life have I had so much at once."

"The bailiff would give you the money at any time," said the young man; "and if grandpapa were angry at first----"

"Otto, what are you thinking of?" his aunt interposed, hastily. "It would be actual robbery! I will not listen to such a thing. Moreover, the bailiff never would do it."

Otto changed colour. "Then there is nothing for it but to send a bullet through my brains," he said in an undertone, as if to himself.

Aunt Thekla again burst into tears. "If I could only help you!" she said. "But if I stake everything that I have, my money, my few trinkets, my laces----" Suddenly a thought occurred to her. "Magelone, you can help!" she cried. "Your beautiful pearl necklace,--Lobel Wolf will certainly advance you the needed sum upon it, and when Johann Leopold comes back he will redeem it."

For a moment Magelone was speechless with terror. Her pearl necklace, the only thing she had been able to save from the wreck of her fortune, must it, too, go? She could not let it if she would, for had she not vowed, when money, plate, trinkets, everything, in short, had been swallowed up in paying poor Willfried's debts, never, never again, even for the dearest being on earth, to offer up such a sacrifice? But of course she could not explain this now, when Otto, Aunt Thekla, and Johanna were all looking at her so expectantly. A happy thought came to her aid. "Gladly--gladly would I give it up," she stammered, and the tone of her voice, the tears in her eyes, must convince her hearers how sincere was her regret that she could not do so, "if I only had the necklace; but I was anxious about its safety, and I gave it to grandpapa, who locked it in his safe."

"But how would my Christmas-gift do?" cried Johanna. "If it is worth so much----"

"Oh, child, how could I forget it?" Aunt Thekla interrupted her. "Of course it can help us. But you have no Johann Leopold who will redeem it," she added, less hopefully. And Otto rising, said, "No, thank you, Johanna; I cannot accept such a sacrifice from you."

Johanna, too, rose. "You must!" she cried, and her eyes sparkled. "Tell him, Aunt Thekla, that he must. If I am not a near enough relative to help him, he must reflect that it is the right of all of us to help to avert a family misfortune----" She paused, and hurried from the room.

"How good she is!" said Aunt Thekla.

"More than good,--magnanimous!" murmured Otto, who was pacing the room with folded arms, and Magelone once more marvelled at 'this girl's extraordinary luck; everything redounded to her honour and glory.'

CHAPTER XIV.

AN UNEXPECTED RETURN.

Johanna brought the _parure_ to her aunt. "He will not refuse to accept aid from you," she said. Then they sat at table conversing upon indifferent subjects, and the same talk went on in the drawing-room while they were drinking coffee. When at last Magelone sat down at the piano, and Aunt Thekla, wearied with the exertions of the day, dropped asleep in the corner of her sofa, Johanna slipped out into the park.

Her heart was heavy. Otto's words, 'I cannot accept such a sacrifice from you,' had wounded her, in proving to her that she was not as near to him as she had thought. "I wish grandpapa were at home again; he is the only one who really cares for me," she said to herself. And, as she leaned against the wall of the park at the end of the linden avenue and listlessly plucked some monthly roses from the marble vase beside her, she thought that the tears that filled her eyes were shed for her grandfather's absence.

A quick, firm step upon the gravel startled her from her revery. She hastily wiped her eyes, but did not look around until Otto's voice said close beside her, "Forgive me, dear Johanna. I hear, it is true, that you do not like to be interrupted in your evening strolls; nevertheless you must allow me to thank you before I leave here again to-morrow morning."

"Are you going so soon?" she asked in faltering tones.

"Would you like to have me stay?" he replied. "Do not be conventional, Johanna; I want to know your real feeling."

"We should all be glad to keep you here," she said.

He looked at her sadly, and rejoined, in a melancholy tone, "I asked how _you_ felt; I care little about the others. But you,--what fault do you find with me, Johanna? I ought not, indeed, to ask such a question to-day. You all blame me, and you are apparently right in doing so. But before--I mean when you wrote me that letter--we parted more than friends; and then came that cold, stiff note!"

"It was not meant to be so; I meant it should be kind," she replied, without looking up at him.

"So much the worse!" he cried. "You meant to and could not. But I have no right to reproach you when you have just done me so friendly a service."

"Which you did not wish to accept from me," she answered him, reproachfully.

"Johanna, I trust you understand why it was so much harder for me to accept this kind of help from you than from the others?"

"Because you do not know me so well; I am not so near to you," she said.

"You do not, you cannot believe that," he hastily interposed. "To me you seem far nearer to me, and therefore it humiliates me all the more to----"

"Where are you?" Magelone's voice called from a side-path at this moment.

"Here!" called Johanna, who hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry for the interruption.

"Oh, dear! I had so much to say," whispered Otto, as he took Johanna's hand and pressed it to his lips. "One word more while we are alone,--would you like to have me stay here a few days?"

"Most certainly. Did I not tell you so?" Johanna replied, vainly endeavouring to withdraw her hand from his.

"And your letter was not the expression of your displeasure with me?" he went on, still in a whisper, as he leaned towards her; but, before she could answer, Magelone's light gown appeared from among the trees.