is passionate embrace all else seemed to sink from
view. They had both forgotten the threatening shadow from the past which
was forcing itself between them.

In the meantime Frau von Eschenhagen was harangueing Will in the
dining-room. She had already performed that duty once this morning, but
she thought the occasion required a second portion. The young heir
looked sorely disturbed, he felt himself in a false position both as
regarded his mother and his friend, and yet he was quite innocent in the
matter. As a dutiful son he listened patiently to the tirade, and only
threw a wistful glance now and then toward the table upon which the
evening meal was already spread, and of which his mother took not the
slightest notice.

"This is what comes of it, when a boy has secrets behind his parents'
back," she said in conclusion. "Hartmut will be well watched now, and
the Major won't deal any too gently with him, either, and you, I think,
will refrain from assisting in any more plots, if I have anything to
say."

"I had nothing to do with it," said Will, defending himself. "I only
promised to be silent, and I had to keep my word."

"You should never keep silence toward your mother. She is always and
ever an exception," said Frau Regine, decidedly.

"Yes, mamma, that was probably what Hartmut thought; that's how he acted
toward his mother," said Willibald, and the remark was so just that
nothing could be said in contradiction; it provoked Frau von
Jischenhagen none the less, on that account.

"That's something different, something quite different," she answered
shortly. But her son asked obstinately:

"Why is it something different here, then?"

"Do not bother me any more with your talk and your questions," his
mother went on angrily. "That is a thing which you do not understand,
and about which you have no business to trouble your head. It's bad
enough that Hartmut has brought you into the affair at all. Now be
quiet, and don't trouble me any more about it. Do you understand?"

Will was silent as requested. It was the first time in his life that he
had been catechised so sharply and had received so severe a lecture. At
this moment his uncle Wallmoden, just back from a walk, entered the
room.

"I hear Falkenried has come already?" he said to his sister.

"Yes," she answered. "He came immediately upon receipt of my letter."

"And how did he take the news?"

"Quietly enough, outwardly; but I saw only too well that h