He still loves me!  He is a man with feeling and generosity.  But he, too, is resigned.  They are all ill—­these men!  They have no courage!  From pure learning and introspection they have lost all confidence in themselves.  This Conrad!  Why doesn’t he say to me:  “Adelaide, I want you to be my wife?” He can be brazen enough when he wants to!  God forbid!  He philosophizes about my kind of happiness and his kind of happiness!  It was all very fine, but sheer nonsense.—­My young country-squires are quite different.  They have no great burden of wisdom and have more whims and prejudices than they ought to; but they do their hating and loving thoroughly and boldly, and never forget their own advantage.  They are the better for it!  Praised be the country, the fresh air, and my broad acres! [Pause; with decision.] The Union is to be sold!  Conrad must come to the country to get rid of his crotchets! [Sits down and writes; rings; enter CARL.] Take this note to Judge Schwarz; I want him kindly to come to me on urgent business.

[Exit CARL.]

Enter IDA through the side door on the left.

IDA.

I am too restless to keep still!  Let me cry here to my heart’s content! [Weeps on ADELAIDE’S neck.]

ADELAIDE (tenderly).

Poor child!  The bad men have been very cruel to you.  It’s all right for you to grieve, darling, but don’t be so still and resigned!

IDA.

I have but the one thought:  he is lost to me—­lost forever!

ADELAIDE.

You are a dear good girl.  But be reassured!  You haven’t lost him at all.  On the contrary, we’ll see to it that you get him back better than ever.  With blushing cheeks and bright eyes he shall reappear to you, the noble man, your chosen demigod—­and your pardon the demigod shall ask for having caused you pain!—­

IDA (looking up at her).

What are you telling me?

ADELAIDE.

Listen!  This night I read in the stars that you were to become Mrs. Member-of-Parliament.  A big star fell from heaven, and on it was written in legible letters:  “Beyond peradventure she shall have him!” The fulfilment has attached to it but one condition.

IDA.

What condition?  Tell me!

ADELAIDE.

I recently told you of a certain lady and an unknown gentleman.  You remember?

IDA.

I have thought of it incessantly.

ADELAIDE.

Good!  On the same day on which this lady finds her knight again shall you also be reconciled with your professor—­not sooner, not later.  Thus it is written.

IDA.

I am so glad to believe you.  And when will the day come?

ADELAIDE.

Yes, dear, I do not know that exactly.  But I will confide in you, since we girls are alone, that the said lady is heartily tired of the long hoping and waiting and will, I fear, do something desperate.