“I believe you do love me a little, Aunt Regine, and I—­I have been happy for weeks over the thought of my visit to Burgsdorf.  I have been sick with longing for woods and sea, for the green meadows and the far blue heavens.  I have been so happy here; but of course, if you really do not want me, I’ll go away from the place.  I won’t wait to have you send me.”

His voice had sunk to a soft, seductive whisper, while his eyes spoke more eloquently than his tongue.  They could plead more powerfully than the lips, and Frau von Eschenhagen, who yielded to no one, from her only son to the lowest tenant on the estate, permitted herself to be persuaded by them now.

“You are incorrigible, you merry-andrew” she said, brushing the curls from his forehead.  “And as to sending you away, you know only too well that Will and all my people are always ready to make fools of themselves for you, and I, too, for that matter.”

Hartmut laughed aloud at the last words, and kissed her hand with impetuous gratitude, then he turned to his friend, who, having finally ended his meal, was looking on in silent wonderment.

“Have you finished your breakfast at last, Will?  Come, we’ll go to the Burgsdorf fishing pond—­don’t be so vexatiously slow.  Good-bye, Aunt Regine, I can see Uncle Wallmoden does not approve of your having pardoned me.  Hurrah, now we’re off for the woods.”  And away he rushed over the terrace and across the garden.  There was something attractive in his exuberance and enthusiasm.  The lad was all life and fire.  Will trotted after him like a young deer, and in a few moments the two disappeared behind the trees.

“He comes and goes like a wind storm,” said Frau von Eschenhagen, gazing after them.  “That boy is not to be restrained once the reins are slackened.”

“A dangerous youth,” said Wallmoden.  “He even understands how to manage you, who usually have all your commands obeyed.  It is, within my knowledge, the first time you have ever forgiven disobedience and lack of punctuality.”

“Yes, Hartmut has something about him which bewitches one,” exclaimed Regine, half angry at her own irresolution.  “If he did not look at me with those big black eyes of his while he begged and flattered, I might be able to resist him.  You are right, he is a dangerous lad.”

“Well, we’ve had enough of Hartmut for this morning.  The question which interests me concerns the education of your own son.  You have really decided—­”

“To keep him here.  Don’t bother yourself about him, Herbert; you may be a great diplomatist, and have the politics of the whole country in your pocket, but I wont give my boy into your keeping; he belongs to me alone, and I intend to keep him, and—­that’s enough.”

A sounding blow on the table accompanied the “that’s enough.”  Then the ruling lady of Burgsdorf rose from her chair and left the room.  Her brother shrugged his shoulders and said half aloud:  “He can grow up an ignorant country squire for all of me—­perhaps it’s the best thing for him after all.”