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On the introduction of Colonel von Tresten, whose name she knew, but was dull to it, she delivered him her letter with unaffected composure, received from him Alvan's in exchange, left the room as if to read it, and after giving it unopened to Marko, composedly reappeared before the colonel to state, that the letter could make no difference, and all was to be as she had written it.
Late in the evening her door was flung wide for Colonel von Tresten. She looked her interrogative 'Well? His features were not used to betray the course of events. 'How has it gone? she said. He replied: 'As I told you. I fancied I gauged the hussy pretty closely. 'She will not see him? 'Not she. The baroness crossed her arms. 'And Alvan? The colonel shrugged.
Tresten stares and owns she is worth heavier labours, worse than his friend has endured. Love does it! Love, that hallows a stranger's claim to the flower of a proud garden: Love has won her the freedom to suffer herself to be chosen by the stranger. What matters which of them toiled to bring them to so sweet an end! It was not either of them, but Love.
As it is, I have acted in obedience to his wishes, without idle remonstrances I know him too well; and with as much cordiality as I could put into an evil service. She will drag him down, down, Tresten! 'They are not joined yet, said the colonel. 'She has him by the worst half of him.
She called to mind a fancy that she had looked at Tresten out of her deadness earnestly for just one instant: more than an instant she could not, beneath her father's vigilant watch and into those repellant cold blue butcher eyes. Tresten might clearly have understood the fleeting look. What were her words! what her deeds! The look was the truth revealed-her soul.
It 's about time for me to go back to him, for there may be business. The baroness thought it improbable. She was hoping that with Alvan's eruption the drop-scene would fall. Tresten spoke of the possibility. He knew the contents of the letter, and knew further that a copy of it, with none of the pregnant syllables expunged, had been forwarded to Prince Marko.
Tresten stares and owns she is worth heavier labours, worse than his friend has endured. Love does it! Love, that hallows a stranger's claim to the flower of a proud garden: Love has won her the freedom to suffer herself to be chosen by the stranger. What matters which of them toiled to bring them to so sweet an end! It was not either of them, but Love.
Colonel von Tresten, however, was very far from offering himself in such a shape to a girl that had jilted the friend he loved, insulted the woman he esteemed; and he stood there like a figure of soldierly complacency in marble. Her pencilled acknowledgement of the baroness's letter, and her reply to it almost as much, was construed as an intended insult to that lady, whose champion Tresten was.
'You have done your commission, the colonel said to Count Walburg, whose companion was not disposed to go without obtaining satisfactory assurances, and pressed for them. Alvan fastened on him. 'You adopt the responsibility of this? He displayed the letter. 'I do. 'It lies. Tresten remarked to Count Walburg: 'These visits are provocations.
Tresten sketched it. The baroness realized it, and shut her lips tight for a laugh of essential humour. Late in the day Alvan was himself able to inform her that he had overcome Clotilde's father after a struggle of hours.
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