We directed our steps towards the back of the Castle, passing by the aviary, which had fallen into decay like its surroundings. The Captain had, however, turned it into a poultry-walk, and held undisputed sway over the turkeys with which he had stocked it. The General, who had come out against his will, leaned on the arm of Francis, and I walked by her side. Ascending a small rise in the grounds we came to a summer-house, whence we could obtain a splendid view of the surrounding country—a sweep of undulating heath as far as the eye could reach. Francis said this was her favourite place in the grounds, and that she never grew tired of the charming prospect; but I could see that her grandfather’s thoughts were occupied about something quite different from the picturesque view. All the farms in the neighbourhood, and all the woods around, formerly appertained to the lordship of the Werve; and all these ought to have descended intact to his granddaughter, to whom he would not leave a foot of earth.

“By the way, nephew, what has become of the six other Miss d’Hermaeles, your mother’s sisters?” asked the General, breaking the silence briskly.

Francis burst out laughing.

“Grandfather beginning to take an interest in the fate of six young ladies all at once! That’s too much! But he wishes to know, Leo, whether you have a chance of inheriting anything from a rich aunt,” she said, displaying a quickness of perception peculiar to her. “Isn’t it so, grandfather?”

I hastened to answer—

“Three of them died long ago; two others made good marriages, but they have children of their own; and one, Aunt Sophia, is maintained by the rest of the family, I contributing in proportion to my means.”

“Aunt Sophia,” repeated the General; “had the d’Hermaeles the foresight to make Sophia Roselaer godmother to one of their children?”

“It is possible,” I answered, “but I don’t know for certain; my mother seldom talked to me about her relations.”

“At any rate it appears to me she has been made heir to the property of that mischief-loving woman, Miss Roselaer,” continued the General; “and probably you, Leopold, were not informed of the death, nor invited to the funeral any more than ourselves? As far as I am concerned I expected such treatment; yet I cannot understand that she should allow her hatred to deprive the only granddaughter of her eldest sister of the property.”

I now felt myself on dangerous ground; but Francis came to my rescue by saying, in a tone of pleasantry—

“Neither did I ever expect anything from her; and yet, who knows, if I had liked—I have only seen her once in my life; and though as a rule people are not prepossessed in my favour at a first interview” (hereupon she gave me a malicious look), “she seems to have had no reason to complain of me;—in fact, if I had only cultivated the acquaintance, probably at this moment my name would be in her will for a good round sum.”

“What! you have seen the old gossip?” interrupted General von Zwenken, “and you have never told me of it. When and where have you met her?”

“At the beginning of this year, when I went to Utrecht on certain business about which it is not necessary to trouble cousin Leopold.”

“She never likes to hear her good deeds spoken of,” the General murmured to me.

“Oh, it was only a simple duty I had to fulfil; I had to consult the celebrated Dr. D. about an unfortunate woman who had lost her reason. At his door I had an altercation with his man-servant, who wished to put me off till next day under the pretext that the hour for consultation was passed, and that his master was taking his luncheon with visitors. However, I insisted upon his taking in my card, and finally I obtained admission to the dining-room. Dr. D. politely invited me to take luncheon with them, and introduced me to two elderly ladies, one his sister, and the other his sister’s friend. As I was very hungry, I accepted without ceremony. I was soon sensible that his sister’s friend was observing my every motion with sharp, penetrating eyes. Her conversation was amusing. She was lively, and criticised persons and events cleverly, though with unsparing severity. This was just to my taste, and excited me to the contest, till, from repartee to repartee, we got almost to a dispute. It was my great-aunt Sophia in person, as I afterwards learnt; and just fancy her mixing up her own name in a malicious manner in the conversation, and then asking me if I knew her, and what my opinion of her was! I simply answered: ‘I had heard her spoken of; that there had been quarrels between her and my relations, but that I did not think it fair, on my part, to attack her behind her back in the presence of strangers.’ She answered that she approved of my conduct. The doctor, who had for some time been appearing ill at ease, now invited me to go to his surgery. After the consultation I met the old lady in the passage; she invited me to accompany her as far as the house of a friend, where her carriage would await her. I consented, but now I was on my guard, as I knew who she was; and when she invited me to spend a day with her I declined——”

“It was imprudent and impolite,” interrupted the General.

“It was acting in conformity with the spirit of all your dealings with her, grandfather. I said I could not spend a single hour longer in Utrecht than business demanded. Before she could say more, a band of students, of that class better known outside the lecture-room than inside, began to form a circle round us, and treat us to a piece of by no means flattering criticism as to the style of our dress. It is true I was negligently dressed, far behind the fashions; and aunt’s bonnet and shawl gave her much of the appearance of a caricature. I felt my blood boil, and yet I retained sufficient calmness to tell these seedling lawyers, authors, and clergymen they ought to be ashamed of themselves, as their conduct was worse even than that of street Arabs. My words took effect; one or two dropped off in silence, others stepped aside, and one of them even attempted to stammer out an apology. We were near the house of lawyer Van Beek, where Miss Roselaer was going; and as we took leave of each other she warmly pressed my hand, thanking me for my protection and presence of mind, but added that ‘such conduct was scarcely ladylike in the public streets.’

“It might have been more becoming to swoon, but such farces are not in keeping with the character of Major Frank.

“If I had known the story would amuse you so much, grandfather, I would have told it you three months ago; but I was afraid it would be disagreeable to you to hear I had seen Aunt Sophia.”

“And you have never since heard a word of Miss Roselaer?” demanded Von Zwenken, fretfully.

“No; but I have reason to suppose she wished to oblige me. I had to make arrangements at Utrecht for the proper nursing of my poor patient. The most important point was the money, and at the time I had very little; but the same evening I received a letter from Dr. D., informing me a rich friend, who desired to remain unknown, had promised to pay all the expenses. So here you have my reasons for surprise that Aunt Sophia should have included me in hatred of the family; for the rich unknown friend could be no other than herself.”

The General muttered between his teeth—

“Oh, from that woman you might expect anything!”

To me this account was as a ray of light. Aunt had changed her will, after this incident, in favour of Francis, and not, it was clear, for purposes of revenge. Now I felt more bound than ever to win the love of Francis, and to marry her; and I confess my inclinations were tending in that direction. Her straightforward, upright character, her original and piquant style of beauty, were already beginning to act like a charm upon me; still it would be well not to precipitate matters, and I controlled a desire which came over me to demand her hand on the spot. There were also mysterious events in her past life which required clearing up. Besides, I had to consider how it would be possible to change her aversion from marriage, the male sex, and social life in general. And I was convinced if she once pronounced the fatal word “No,” my suit was hopeless.