uld begin to put by. But,
while he thus speculated, his eye fell upon his over-worked horses, and
the anxious face of his old bailiff, and a vague fear crept, like a
loathly insect, over the fluttering leaves of his hopes; for he had
staked all on this cast; he had so mortgaged his land that at this
moment he hardly knew how much of it was his own; and all this to raise
still higher the social dignity of his family tree!

The baron himself was much altered during the last few years. A wrinkled
brow, two fretful lines around the mouth, and gray hair on the temples:
these were the results of his eternal thought about capital, his family,
and the future aggrandizement of the property. His voice, which once
sounded strong and full, had become sharp and thin, and every gesture
betrayed irritation and impatience.

The baron had, indeed, had heavy cares of late. He had thoroughly
learned the misery of extensive building operations combined with a
scarcity of money. Ehrenthal was now become a regular visitor at the
castle. Every week his horses consumed the baron's good hay; every week
he brought out his pocket-book, and reckoned up the account or paid off
bills. His hand, which at first so readily and reverentially sought his
purse, did so now tardily and reluctantly; his bent neck had become
stiff, his submissive smile had changed into a dry greeting; he walked
with a scrutinizing air through the farm, and, instead of fervent
praises, found many a fault. The humble agent had grown into the
creditor, and the baron had to bear, with still increasing aversion, the
pretensions of a man with whom he could no longer dispense. And not
Ehrenthal alone, but many a strange figure besides knocked at the
baron's study, and had private dealings with him there. The broad shape
of the uncouth Pinkus appeared every quarter, and each time that his
heavy foot ascended the castle stairs discord and dissatisfaction
followed.

Every week, as we said, Ehrenthal had visited the estate: now came the
most anxious time of all, and no eye beheld him. They said in the town
that he was gone off upon a journey, and the baron was listening
restlessly to the noise of every carriage that passed, wondering whether
it brought the tardy, the hated, yet the indispensable visitor.

Lenore now joined her father, a radiant beauty, full in form and tall in
stature, but somewhat shadowed by life's cares, as her thoughtful eyes
and the anxious glance she cast at t