The young wife by his side was always taken by strangers to be his daughter.  Unquestionably the ambassador’s choice had proved his good taste.  Adelheid von Wallmoden was indeed lovely, but her beauty was of that chill, statuesque type which awakens only cold admiration, and she seemed to have been born to occupy the position in the world to which her marriage had raised her.  The young bride, not quite nineteen, and only six months a wife, exhibited a coolness of behavior and as complete a knowledge of all the forms and obligations of her social position, as if she had been at the side of her elderly husband for half a lifetime.

Wallmoden was politeness and attentiveness itself to her.  He offered her his arm now, after the first greetings were over, to conduct her to her own apartments, and a few minutes later returned alone to the terrace to have a talk with his sister.

The intercourse between this brother and sister was in many respects very singular.

Regine was as uncouth in outward appearance as she was rugged in character, and the direct opposite of her courtly brother in every particular; but still, as they sat side by side now, after their long separation, there was a look on both faces which told that the mysterious bond of kinship was much to them both, despite the antagonism which so often came to the fore.

Herbert was made rather nervous during their conversation, for Regine did not think it necessary to refrain from brusque questioning or candid comment, and her brother was frequently embarrassed and annoyed by both, but he had learned from experience the uselessness of striving to check her open speech, so gave himself up to the inevitable with a sigh.  Of course, among other things, she spoke of Willibald’s and Toni’s betrothal, of which Wallmoden fully approved.

The subject had been worn threadbare long years ago, so there was little really to be said.  And now Frau von Eschenhagen branched off on another theme.

“Well, Herbert, how do you feel now you’re a married man?” asked his sister.  “You certainly were long enough about making up your mind, but better late than never, and I must admit that for an old gray-head like you, you have made a very good selection.”

This frank reference to his age did not seem to please the ambassador; he pressed his lips tightly together for a moment, and then answered his sister sharply: 

“My dear Regine, you should strive to use a little tact in your conversation.  I know my age well enough, but the position which I occupy, and to which I elevated Adelheid by marriage, more than compensates for the difference in our ages.”

“Well, that’s true enough, and the marriage portion she brought you is not to be despised,” assented Regine, quite unmoved by his sharp tones.  “Have you presented your wife at Court yet?”