He had hoped that Elsa, to whom he had addressed himself, would have protested, at least with some polite phrase, which he might have accepted as genuine.
But Elsa was silent, and Frau von Wallbach with difficulty concealed a fit of yawning, as she leaned back in her armchair, and with her hand before her mouth, seemed to be making a minute inspection of the ceiling.
The Count bit his lip.
“I am afraid we have not been very lively company for the ladies,” he said. “Strummin was really unbearable. I believe he drank three bottles to his own share, and spoke about as many words. I think such silence must be catching, or is it in the air? It is really just like May, when the first thunderstorms come. What a pity that Captain Schmidt did not accept your aunt’s invitation, Fräulein Elsa! he might, perhaps, have told us the meaning of this wonderfully sultry state of the atmosphere. I wonder why he did not come?”
The Count seldom missed an opportunity of reflecting upon Reinhold in what he imagined to be a peculiarly sarcastic and witty manner. It could only be the consequence of the blind hatred with which, from the first he had honoured him.
Reinhold had once visited Warnow during the last week, and that for an hour only. They had certainly never given anyone the slightest indication by which a clue could be found to the nature of their mutual relations, yet the Count’s last remark sent the blood up into Elsa’s cheek.
“Captain Schmidt only expressed his regret that he had no time to avail himself of our invitation today,” she said.
“I should like to know what a man like that has to do,” returned the Count. “He does not, so far as I know, manage the boat himself, but looks on comfortably from the shore. A mere sinecure, it seems to me.”
“Perhaps you do not clearly understand the duties and cares of a man in such a position, Count Golm?”
“Very likely. For instance, I cannot understand why it is his duty, or why he gives himself the trouble to interfere in the strangest and most perverse way with my harbour works. Amongst other things, I know it for a fact that we owe to his suggestion, or rather his denunciation—”
“Forgive me for interrupting you,” said Elsa; “the gentleman of whom you are speaking possesses the regard, I may say the affection, of my father; he is my—friend, received by my aunt at Warnow. I do not think it right to allow him to be cried down here—in his absence.”
“But,” cried the Count, “you completely misunderstand me. I had not the slightest intention of maligning that gentleman. I call it a denunciation, because—”
“Perhaps you will be so kind as to take some opportunity of mentioning the matter before him; I am certain that he will give you a satisfactory answer. Dear Louisa, will you excuse my going to see after my aunt? she may want me.”
Elsa bent over Frau von Wallbach’s chair, then, drawing herself up, made the Count a civil but cold bow, and left the drawing-room.
“This is too much!” said the Count, looking after her; “what do you think of that, Frau von Wallbach? To make such a fuss about this man, who cavils at everything. Just imagine that he may manage to bring matters to such a pass, that we shall not dare to demolish the dunes on the left of Ahlbeck, in spite of the position being absolutely necessary to us as a depot for our materials! He asserts that the dunes are a protection for the whole coast. Just fancy! Sixty feet of beach at the narrowest part, and then to talk of protecting the coast! Absurd! And our dear President of course—”
“My dear Count,” said Frau von Wallbach, turning her head towards the Count, “what does it all matter to me?”
“Pardon me, my dear lady,” said the Count; “I thought—”
“And I am already bored to death,” exclaimed Frau von Wallbach; “good gracious, how bored I am! This week—oh! this week! If I could only write to Wallbach to come and fetch me back!”
“We should miss you dreadfully,” said the Count.
“I think you would get on very well without me,” said Frau von Wallbach; “and besides, my dear Count, this cannot go on any longer. Either you must make up your minds, or you must give it up. Do you think Elsa is blind?”
“Bah!” said the Count, “Fräulein Elsa has got her interesting Superintendent of Pilots!”
“Yes,” said Frau von Wallbach; “you are always talking about that; but I have lately watched them both closely, and I tell you it is nonsense.”
“I have it on the best authority.”
“From Signor Giraldi, of course; he knows everything! And yet it was Signor Giraldi who originally interested himself in your engagement to Elsa. I cannot understand it. It is such a bore to be groping in the dark like this.”
The Count, for whom there were also many obscure points in this delicate affair, thought it high time to break off the conversation.
“I think the horses must have been brought round,” he said, rising and kissing Frau von Wallbach’s hand; “excuse me for today;
