inimical.  Pilar had her circle of friends, and her accustomed way of life, to which Wilhelm would have to adapt himself.  Would that occur without opposition on his part?  Would not many a tender sentiment be wounded beyond the power of healing in that struggle?  But of what avail were all these tormenting questions?  She had to look the future in the face, and prepare to engage in a struggle in which he was determined to come off victorious.

From time to time she glanced at Wilhelm, and always found him deep in thought.  He was reviewing, with a touch of self-mockery, the latest development of his affairs.  Here he was on his way to Paris.  He had not chosen this destination.  Once again another will than his own had determined his path for him.  He resigned himself without a struggle; he allowed himself to be taken along like an obedient child.  Was it weakness?  Perhaps.  Possibly, however, it was not.  Possibly he did not think it worth the trouble to call his will into play.  Why should he, after all?  As long as he might not live in Berlin, what did it matter where he lived? and Paris was as good a place as any other.  To have resisted Pilar’s persuasions would not have been an evidence of strength, but simply the obstinacy of a conceited fool, who wants to prove to himself that he is capable of setting somebody else at defiance.  So that after all he was going to Paris because he wished it, or rather, because he saw no reason for not doing so.  But as he spun the web of these thoughts in his mind, he heard all the time a still small voice, which contradicted him, and whispered:  “It is not true.  You are not your own master; you are going you know not whither; you are doing you know not what.  Two beautiful eyes are your guiding star, and in following their magic beckoning your feet may slip at any moment, and you may be hurled into unknown depths.”

Pilar must have divined that Wilhelm’s thoughts were enemies to her peace, and must be dispersed.  They were alone in the carriage, and she could give free rein to her feelings.  She took his hand and kissed it, and laying her arm round his neck, she said fondly: 

“Don’t be so depressed, Wilhelm.  Of course it is only natural that one should be afraid of any change after one has been so happy, but you shall have no cause to regret St. Valery.  You will see, it will be still nicer in Paris.  We remain the same as we were before, and surely my little home is a more fitting frame for our love than the bare room at the hotel!”

Wilhelm started back.

“You surely do not imagine that I am going to live in your house?” he cried.

“But there can be no question about it!” she answered in surprise.

“Never!” Wilhelm declared, with a determination that frightened Pilar, it was so new to her.  “How could you think of such a thing?”