She brought out the last words in a towering rage, but Will was not overwhelmed by them.  He stood for a moment staring in surprise, as if wondering if it was really that which had overtaken him, then a light seemed to dawn upon him.

“O!” he said, drawing a deep breath, and a slight smile flitted across his face.

“O! is that your only answer?” broke forth the furious mother, who, in spite of everything, still hoped for a contradiction.  “You do not even deny it.  And this is what I must live to see in my own son, whom I educated so carefully and never allowed to leave my side.  While I was having you watch and protect your betrothed from this infamous woman, you were acting a hypocrite.  And she playing the virtuous, deeply injured part before me, that creature—­”

“Mother, be silent!  I will not allow that,” interrupted Willibald, angry too, now.

“You will not allow it—­what does that mean?”

Frau von Eschenhagen stopped suddenly and listened.

“There comes Toni, your betrothed bride, to whom you have pledged your word, who wears your ring.  How do you purpose treating her?” She had at last found the right means to conquer her son, who now hung his head despondently as Antonie entered the room.

“You’re here already, are you, Will?” she asked.  “I thought—­but what is the matter?  Has anything happened?”

“Yes,” said Regine, who, as usual seized the reins without fear.  “We have just received a telegram from Burgsdorf which will compel us to start for home to-morrow morning.  You need not be alarmed, my dear child, it is nothing serious, only a piece of stupidity,”—­she laid a sharp accent upon the last words,—­“a piece of stupidity which will soon right itself, and the sooner its checked, the sooner the matter’ll be ended.  I’ll explain it all to you later, but we must go now; it can’t be helped.”

Antonie listened attentively, but it required more than such an announcement to stir her from her wonted repose, and the declaration that it was nothing of moment, satisfied her.  “But will Willibald have to go, too?” she asked, without any special eagerness.  “Can not he remain?”

“Well, Will, can’t you answer your sweetheart?” said his mother, fastening her sharp gray eyes on her son.  “You know best all the circumstances.  Do you think you can afford to remain here?”

There followed a short pause.  Willibald’s glance met his mother’s; then he turned toward Toni and said, in a half-depressed tone: 

“No, Toni, I must go home—­there is nothing else for it.”

Toni took this news, which another girl would have seriously deplored, very calmly, and began to plan where they had better dine on the morrow, for they had a long distance to go by carriage before they would meet the express train.  This troubled her much more than the parting, and she finally decided that she would prepare a luncheon for them, so that they need have no care concerning their midday meal.