With that he started his horse on at a faster gait, and the head forester followed his example, for Ostwalden lay before them.  The great building which Herr von Wallmoden would have made so magnificent, had he lived, was an old, rambling castle, with two high towers, one on either side, which gave the building a very picturesque appearance, surrounded as it was by a wild, partially overgrown park.  The present mistress of the place, so it was said, intended to make few changes, but she would not sell the place.  What mattered a country-seat more or less to the heiress of the Stahlberg millions.

The gentlemen found on their arrival that Frau von Wallmoden was walking in the park, and Frau von Eschenhagen was in her room.  The young prince announced that he would seek the lady of the house, while the head forester turned his steps toward his sister-in-law’s room.

He had not seen Regine since the previous winter.  As he entered the room he said in his wonted hearty manner: 

“Here I am.  I didn’t think it worth while being announced to my sister-in-law, although she does avoid my house with contempt.  I don’t believe in hunting pretexts for quarrels, so have ridden over in this hot sun to have an explanation.”

Regine reached out her hand to him.  A passing glance would reveal no change in her in these last six or seven months; she was the same strong, determined woman as ever.  But there was a change, nevertheless.  Heretofore her severity and harshness had always been tempered by a certain winning cheerfulness, but that was gone now.  She had not yielded, but—­she had suffered.  She was estranged, perhaps forever, from her only son, who was the idol of her mother’s heart.

“I have nothing against you, Moritz,” she said heartily.  “I knew you would be true to the old friendship in spite of all that you and your daughter were made to suffer; but of course it is very painful for me to go to Fuerstenstein; you must see that.”

“On account of the broken engagement?  Well you can console yourself about that.  You saw and heard at the time how good naturedly Toni took the matter.  She played the role of guardian angel much better than that of sweetheart, and she wrote you several times that she had no regrets and so did I. But, I am sorry to say, our assurances have amounted to nothing.”

“No, but I know how to appreciate your rare generosity.”

“Rare generosity!” repeated her brother-in-law laughing.  “Well, perhaps a jilted bride and her father do not always want to speak a good word for a recreant lover, but that is not the case this time, and who knows but we may be able to persuade the mother to see as we do.  Toni and I have both remarked that Will never was a man until now, and that—­forgive me, Regine, but I must say it—­he owes his manhood to little Marietta.”

Frau von Eschenhagen’s brow darkened at this remark; she did not see fit to answer it though, but showed that she wanted to avoid further discussion by asking, in a changed tone: