Just outside stood the young girl, leaning against the frame; pale, and with a hard, determined gaze, she looked abroad beyond the man at her side into the empty air,—she would not see him.

He recoiled at sight of her, then stood for one moment speechless before her motionless figure. "Kitty!" he called, softly, in the anxious, hesitating tone of one who seeks to arouse another from some heavy, troubled dream.

She drew herself up to her full height, and slowly descended the steps. "What do you wish, Doctor Bruck?" she asked, over her shoulder, when she stood upon the grass below. She might have been some automaton, but for the indignant light that flamed in her eyes.

He blushed like a girl, and approached her. "You heard—" he asked, with hesitation, but with intense eagerness.

"Yes," she interrupted him, with a bitter smile, "every word. Another reason why you should rid your house of intrusive strangers,—the walls have ears." She moved away from the steps, as if to be quite clear of the threshold she was no more to cross.

Meanwhile he had recovered himself; he threw his hat upon a garden-table near, and stood erect before her, no longer blushing, but with an air of relief, as if matters had taken a wished-for turn, and chance had come to aid him. "Fear of being overheard has no part in what I have been telling my aunt. This quiet home has no secrets, and those which one must imprison in his own breast will not escape, even where the walls have no ears," he said, with calm gravity. "You heard every word,—you know, then, that only the desire for present rest induces me to ask for undisturbed quiet. Unfortunately, I must resign any attempt to justify my rude egotism. You certainly cannot conceive that there are those who are perpetually fleeing from thoughts and—images; but perhaps you may more easily imagine the angry pain, the torture of a man so fleeing, who, hurrying exhausted to his home, finds there just what he seeks to escape."

As he spoke, he had approached her more nearly, and she now looked him keenly and inquiringly in the face. Yes, he was in earnest; he not only described this torture, he felt it at this very moment; his strangely disordered glance, the pallor that overspread his countenance, left her no room to doubt it; but—he did not flee from his future wife, or from the innocent children; and none others frequented his room, except herself. It was really true, then, as she had frequently told herself, that she had become utterly distasteful to him since she had several times been the witness of scenes between himself and Flora; he did not wish to see her in his house, and he had begged his aunt to put a stop to her afternoon classes, that her further intercourse there might cease. As this conviction crept over her, her lovely features lost their usual mobility, and their expression grew stern and hard.

"There is no reason why you should justify your proceeding; you are master here,—that suffices," she replied, icily. "But what an unbounded esteem you must entertain for the Baroness Steiner, since you sacrifice your coveted repose to her, and wish to receive her spoiled grandchild and his governess beneath your roof!" It was a harsh reproof to come from girlish lips which were wont to be frank and outspoken, but which had never hitherto uttered words to show how sharp and cutting the clear, bell-like voice could be. "No, no; do not speak!" she cried, with sudden passion, as he opened his lips to reply. "I would not have you stoop to frame a false excuse for courtesy's sake, and say what you do not think. I know too well what motives influence you!" She evidently struggled to keep down angry tears. "I have most inopportunely crossed your path on several occasions, and entirely understand the irritation with which you exclaimed, a moment ago, 'Always that girl!' I cannot forgive myself for my awkwardness, although upon one occasion only did I wilfully interfere. But you judge me still more harshly,—you persecute me in consequence."

Doctor Bruck did not contradict her, but it seemed as though he had a struggle to resist the temptation to speak. He looked down upon her with eyes full of an inexplicable expression, and his right hand leaning upon the garden-table was tightly clenched. As he stood thus, every lineament of his handsome face showed the strength and resolution that would to the last resist being forced to an explanation.

"It cost me much to return hither," she began again. "The Frau President"—she pointed towards the Villa Baumgarten—"poisoned my childhood with her pride of rank whenever it was in her power to do so, and I can never forget the bitter tears which her perpetual insolence wrung from my poor Lukas. You know how, upon my arrival, I shrank from meeting my clever sister Flora, and how, in sight of the villa, I longed to turn back and flee to my Dresden home. Would that I had done so! In addition to pride of rank and of office, the arrogance of wealth is now rampant in the villa. In that air, filled with pretence and gold-dust, no healthy thought or feeling can survive. By my very nature I am incapable of striking root in such a soil; but here,"—she extended her arms towards the house and garden,—"here I was at home; here I could even have forgotten my dear Dresden; why,—I do not know myself!"

How lovely she was, standing there in spotless white, thoughtfully inclining her head with its crown of heavy braids! "I think your dear old aunt has cast a spell upon me," she added, with a bright look; "the simple, noble beauty of her character helps me to a true balance of mind; she goes her way calmly, noiselessly, and never yields one iota of what she holds to be just and right, although no word of contradiction or self-assertion ever passes her lips. It is refreshing indeed, in contrast with such unjustifiable pretensions, such deceitful appearances, and—yes, such pitiable weakness assailing even the strong masculine intellect." She tossed contemptuously aside a spray of blossoms with which she had been toying as she spoke.

The gesture evidently irritated the man who stood before her. A gloomy fire shone in his eyes; he understood her. "You have forgotten to enumerate one virtue possessed by my 'dear old aunt,'—caution and gentleness in judgment," he said, reprovingly. "She never would have uttered such condemning words as those you have just spoken, for she knows how easily we may be mistaken, and that often—as, indeed, in the case to which you so evidently allude—what looks like weakness demands every possible exertion of strength." He spoke with exceeding earnestness; the calm demeanour, which had never forsaken him even when there had been such wonderful and sudden changes in his career, had vanished entirely.

In her first surprise, Kitty's eyelashes drooped upon her hot cheeks, but she felt that she was right: he was utterly weak towards himself in his love, as in his dislike. Had she not had proof of the latter?

At this moment the children in their play came running round the corner of the house. As soon as they saw Kitty they rushed to greet her, shouting with joy. They paid no heed to the doctor's stern face, and in a second the young girl was surrounded and almost overborne by the merry throng, in their eagerness for some kind word or caress from their "dear FrÄulein."

In spite of her agitation, Kitty almost laughed outright, for the wild onslaught of the children in their affection fairly made her stagger; but the doctor became more angry than she had ever before seen him. He harshly reprimanded the little ones, and ordered them to return behind the house and stay there until they were dismissed.

Confused and frightened, the children retired.

Kitty looked after them compassionately until they had all disappeared. "I should like to go with them to comfort them, but I cannot again seek the spot which I have left forever," she said, half in pain, half in anger.

"'Comfort!'" the doctor rejoined, almost derisively. "Confess that you would now like to stamp me monster as well as weakling. Be consoled: children carry their comfort with them, their smiles and tears are closely akin. Do you not hear them laughing already?" And he pointed over his shoulder with a fleeting smile. "I'll wager their merriment is at my expense. I sent them off on your account; I could not endure—— How could you bear such an attack? They are uncouth, rude——"

"Because they are fond of me? Thank God that it is so! There at least I may still have faith!" she cried, pressing her clasped hands to her bosom. "Or would you perhaps persuade me that this exhibition of affection is also due solely to my money? Oh, no, here I stand firm; I will not be defrauded of this satisfaction, rely upon it!"

He recoiled in amazement. "What strange idea has——"

"Ah! is it really so surprising that at last I have been aroused from the state of childish confidence in which I have lived, imagining that true honest feeling was worth something in this world? It has taken a long time, has it not, to induce my clumsy German comprehension to open its eyes and see how unspeakably ludicrous were all its old-fashioned ideas of right and wrong, truth and falsehood?" She grew pale and shuddered. "There is something horrible in the sudden conviction that one has no existence as a genuine human creature, with a right to be happy after one's own fashion."

He turned away his eyes, and she continued: "At our first meeting you asked me how I liked my sudden accession to wealth; now for the first time I am able to answer your question. I seem drowning in this ocean of money; many hold out a hand to me, to be sure, to rescue me, not for my own sake, but for the golden waves that surround me."

The doctor interrupted her. "In heaven's name, what induces you to take such a view of your life?"

"Can you ask? Am I not forced to accept this view with every draught of air that I inhale, every drop of water that I drink? In my dear Dresden home I am cajoled as the 'heiress,' my teachers exalt the faint spark of musical talent which I possess for the sake of the high price I pay for my lessons, and the guardian wooes his ward because he knows better than any one else—how rich she is."

As she spoke, her gaze had wandered aimlessly over the distant hills; now she looked at the doctor; he started as if from an electric shock. "Has it gone so far?" he stammered, passing his hand over his eyes as if overcome by dizziness. "And you of course are pained to think that such thoughts should influence Moritz," he added, after a moment's pause.

She listened in wonder, his voice sounded so faint and broken. "It wounds me still more deeply that every one seems to feel justified in having a voice in the matter," she replied, as, standing erect, she looked the personification of a protest against unwarranted assumption of authority. Then, shaking her head gravely, she continued: "Such an unfortunate heiress as I must be on her guard lest she become a pitiable plaything in the hands of egotism; and this I will not be, absolutely will not. And you, Herr Doctor,—you too are one of those who think that an orphan girl should submit herself, her will, her goings and her comings, to the convenience of others. Here you would exile me, there you would fetter me to the spot. I should like to know what justifies you in this despotism, or—no"—her lips quivered in the struggle to keep back the tears,—"I would ask, with Henriette, 'What have I done to you?'"

The last passionate words died upon her lips: the doctor grasped her wrist with fingers that were like cold iron.

"Not a word more, Kitty," he said, in a whisper that terrified her. "Did I not know that there is not in your nature a trace of falsehood, I could not but believe that you had devised this torture to wring from me a secret which has been strictly guarded,"—he dropped her hand,—"but I too say, this shall not be, absolutely shall not!"

He folded his arms, and walked away for a few paces as if to go towards the house, but suddenly, turning, he said, "I should like to know how I would fetter you to the villa." His tone was calmer, and he came again and stood before her.

Kitty blushed crimson; for one instant maidenly timidity delayed her reply, then she answered, firmly, "You wish me to be—mistress of Villa Baumgarten——"

"I?—I?" He laughed again the hard, scornful laugh that had startled Kitty awhile before in his conversation with his aunt. "And upon what do you base this accusation? Why should I wish to see you mistress of Villa Baumgarten?" he asked, controlling himself with difficulty.

"Because, as Flora says, you would not have Henriette left alone," she replied, with frank decision, born of a determination to leave no point unexplained. "You see how fond I am of my poor invalid sister, how gladly I undertake the care of her, and you would like to have her future home and comfort secured by my becoming—the wife of the councillor."

"And you believe me to be at the head of this family scheme? You seriously believe this? Have you forgotten how I protested long ago against your sacrificing yourself and remaining longer in RÖmer's house?"

"Since then much has been changed," she replied, bitterly. "In September you will leave M—— forever; it will then be a matter of indifference to you who rules in the villa; your comfort will no longer be disturbed by an unsympathetic presence there——"

"Kitty!" he gasped.

"Herr Doctor?" She calmly met, with head proudly erect, his glance of fire. "The excellence of such an arrangement is plain, and no one who was not as dull of comprehension as myself could have been blind to it for so long," she added, with apparent composure, and with a gravity of tone and manner that seemed to come of suddenly-added years of knowledge and experience. "Then no strange element would intrude upon the family circle; every domestic arrangement could remain as it is; the habits of all in the villa, as well as in the tower, need not be disturbed; nothing, not even my iron safe in Moritz's 'treasure-chamber,' would have to be moved from its place. Oh, it is all so sensibly contrived——"

"And is so natural, that you have not hesitated for a moment to remain," he completed her sentence, breathing quickly, and with a look which in its impatience seemed to chide the lips that delayed confirmation of his words.

"No, Herr Doctor, you exult too soon," she cried, with a kind of triumph in her tone. "The obstinate heiress refuses to be led in chains. I am going, going this very day. I came here only to take my leave of your aunt, and should have laughed at your decree of exile awhile ago, if it had not pained me. My sisters have at length opened my blinded eyes, and revealed to me in a dazzling vista the 'happiness' to which I have been destined. At the moment of revelation I felt as if there were but one path open to me from the Frau President's drawing-room,—the road leading directly to the railroad depot,—and I should have pursued it immediately, had I not remembered the duties here which I had undertaken to fulfil. I am not going to stay away longer than will suffice to convince Moritz that he can never be more to me than my legal guardian, and that he arouses my dislike as soon as he attempts to assume any tone towards me except that of a fatherly friend and adviser."

She drew a long sigh of relief, and, although she had crimsoned to the roots of her hair with maidenly shame at speaking such words, it was easy to see that she was now fully determined that all should be plain and clear between herself and the man who, as she spoke, seemed to become more erect and elastic in form, as if some oppressive weight were suddenly removed from his shoulders.

"Since the day when Henriette was carried fainting into your house, a strong tie has been formed between the Frau Dean and my poor sister," Kitty continued, more quickly, "and I can go away with an easy mind, leaving Henriette to your aunt's care. I wished to bespeak her kind services in this matter, and came hither for that purpose. I shall now write to her from Dresden, for you must be aware that she whom you have banished from your house will never again intrude upon your domain."

With these words she turned to go. "Good-bye, Doctor Bruck!" she said, with a slight inclination, and walked towards the bridge. As she reached the poplars that grew on the other side of the river, she turned once more to take a last look at the dear old house. Around the corner the children were peeping curiously, but the doctor still stood by the garden-table, both hands resting upon the top, and leaning heavily forward, while his face, which was ashy pale, was turned to her with a wild expression of despair.

Oh, mystery of a girl's heart! Without thinking what she did, she flew back across the bridge, over the path she had thought never to tread again,—she would have traversed the world to come to his aid.

"Ah, you are ill!" she stammered, laying her warm supple hands anxiously upon his own.

"No, not ill, Kitty, only what you declared me to be a while ago, although in a different sense,—a pitiable weakling!" he replied, impatiently, shaking back a lock of hair that had fallen over his brow. "Go, go! can you not see that in my present condition every word of sympathy, every kind look, is like a dagger-thrust?" he cried, harshly, while quick as thought he stooped and pressed his lips for one instant passionately upon the white hand that lay upon his own.

Startled though she was, for a moment Kitty's heart throbbed fast and loud with an indescribable sensation of happy tenderness, and the words hovered upon her lips, "No, I will not go,—you need me." But at the same moment he stood erect before her, mute and pale, and pointed commandingly towards the bridge. She turned once more, and fled as though the angel with the flaming sword stood by his side.

A few hours later she noiselessly descended a back staircase in the villa, her travelling-bag in her hand. She went as she had come, suddenly, unexpectedly. Henriette, although shocked and distressed at her departure, had acquiesced in her remaining away for a time, since Flora's thoughtlessness had made such mischief. She consented that Kitty should leave thus privately, and write what she thought best to say from Dresden, she herself engaging to inform the household of her departure. One condition she strictly exacted, however, and that was, that Kitty should instantly return whenever her invalid sister needed her support and care.

Henriette stood at the top of the staircase with arms extended in farewell, while Kitty drew her veil down over her swollen eyelids. Every hall and passage of the house was bathed in light, and carriage after carriage rolled up to the door. For a moment Kitty was obliged to take refuge in a side-corridor, whence she saw ladies in full dress rustle by to the drawing-room. Footmen threw open the folding-doors, and, within, Flora appeared in light-blue silk and white lace, beautiful and gracious as a princess, to receive the guests assembled in her honour. The councillor was celebrating her birthday by a large ball.

As she looked, Kitty's heart ached to breaking. There stood her haughty sister, the favorite of fortune that dogged her footsteps although she had thrust it from her, and here cowered hopelessness like crime. Why should every gift of heaven, all the wealth of love, be heaped upon this one head,—that did not prize them,—while a weary life of self-sacrifice lay before the other sister in the midst of her hoarded gold?

The doors were closed, and Kitty hurried out into the park, filled with such despair as alone can assail a young and ardent nature; and while the maid awaited her in her room to dress her for the soirÉe, she was knocking at the door of the mill to request Franz to accompany her to the railroad depot.