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Three words would have sufficed, but he had passed more than half an hour very agreeably in Berbel's company. And Berbel, little guessing the tremendous import of what she held in her hand, had been interested by the long story. It did not enter her mind that the letter could be anything but a word of affectionate farewell, at the time Wastei gave it into her keeping.
'You put the house before the wife, I see, remarked Berbel. 'Because if I had a good house I could have the good wife fast enough. Wastei is not so dull as he looks. He has looked about him in the world. Ay, Frau Berbel, now if you were thinking of being married and had your choice of two men, would you choose the one with a house or the one without?
'But, after all, suggested Berbel, 'it is only the affair of a day or two, and the baron will be very glad, afterwards, to feel that his father had not forgotten him. 'You do not understand, answered Hilda with increasing anxiety. 'We never knew why they killed themselves it is an awful secret, and the explanation is in this letter. 'You never knew! cried Berbel in great astonishment.
This consideration, of which Berbel was well aware, ultimately turned the scale, and she determined to go to Hilda with the letter, while regretting that a lingering distrust of Rex's character prevented her from appealing to his fabulous wisdom. The christening was a very grand ceremony, in the eyes of the village folk, and everything was done in the most approved fashion.
Berbel was by no means without her share of the national military instinct, which will face annoyance in any shape, or impose it upon others rather than allow a duty of any kind to be eluded, or the execution of its mandates postponed. Better for Greif, she thought, that the matter should be settled at once, better for herself, better for everybody. Delay might be fatal.
She had taken care of Hilda from a child, and the girl had grown up feeling that Berbel was more a friend than a servant, as indeed she was; whereas the baroness, though sincerely attached to the good creature to whom she owed so much, and although overflowing with kindness towards her, could not get rid of the idea of all distinctions so far as to talk intimately with her upon family matters.
She was neither a village Gretchen, such as Faust loved and ruined, nor was she the omniscient damsel of modern society. During the greater part of her existence she had lived without any companions but her mother and the faithful Berbel.
For a moment Berbel conceived it possible that it might not, after all, contain a farewell communication, since there was nothing to show that it had really been written on the fatal night, but the idea would not bear examination, and when she laid the envelope once more in its place in her box she was firmly persuaded that it contained old Greifenstein's last words to his son.
'Yes but you have thought about that in the night, answered Wastei keenly. 'You will not wait much longer than to-day. 'What makes you think that? 'It would not be like you, Frau Berbel, said the man, with affected indifference. 'Perhaps not, replied Berbel, smiling unconsciously at the subtle flattery bestowed upon her scrupulously honest character. 'Perhaps not.
Berbel would have let them pass, seeing that Hilda was not alone, had not the latter stopped and asked a question. 'What have you got there, Berbel? she inquired, looking at the bundle. 'It is a very important matter, answered Berbel. 'And if you could spare me a few minutes 'Is it really important? asked Hilda, leaning on her husband's arm. 'Very.
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