She pointed to a bridge at a little distance from them. It crossed a wide ditch, which bordered the park on this side, and it was closed by means of an iron gate.

Herr Wilberg was in despair. The gate was securely fastened; it was done to keep the work-people, whose dwellings lay for the most part about here, out of the park, but the gardener had the key; Wilberg would hasten, would fly to fetch it, if only her ladyship could bear to wait until ....

"Oh no," broke in Eugenie, rather impatiently. "You would have twice to make the round which I want to avoid. I would rather go back."

Wilberg would not hear of it. He begged and entreated the lady to grant him the happiness of this one small service. His pretty little speech was brought to an abrupt conclusion by the sound of a loud crack.

Ulric had gone up to the gate and seized it with both hands. He shook the iron rails with such force that the bolts and locks creaked again.



Finding that it did not give way promptly, his features contracted angrily, he gave one violent thrust at it with his foot, and so made an end of all resistance. The fastenings, which were not in the best condition, yielded; the gate flew open.

"Good Heavens! Hartmann, what are you about?" cried Wilberg, terrified.

"You are spoiling the lock. What will Herr Berkow say?"

Ulric gave him no answer. He pushed the gate quite back and turned quickly round.

"The way is open, my lady."

Eugenie did not look half so shocked as the young clerk. She even laughed, as she proceeded towards the path so vigorously cleared for her.

"Thank you, Hartmann. Do not make yourself uneasy as to the spoilt lock, Herr Wilberg; I will take the responsibility on myself. But, as the gate is open now, will you not take the shorter cut through the park?"

What a proposal! Herr Wilberg did not hasten, he rushed, he flew to the lady"s side, racking his brain even in this hurried moment to find an interesting and striking theme on which to discourse; but he was obliged to begin with a very prosaic one, for Eugenie, turning her head once more, looked curiously after the enigmatic being who had puzzled her so much once before, as though she would again try to read the riddle of his character with her grave meditative eyes.

"That Hartmann has the strength and the fury of an old Berserker. He crashes down locks and bolts without more ado, just to"----

"Just to make my way easy," continued Eugenie, with a touch of irony, as she looked at her companion. "You would not have been guilty of such a forcible act of politeness?"

Wilberg protested against even the supposition of such a thing. Her ladyship could not believe for a moment that he would have laid violent hands on other people"s property, and that too in her presence; no, most a.s.suredly he would not.... But she listened to his protestations with marked abstraction, and in spite of all the pains he took to interest her, he could not succeed in fully gaining her attention once during their walk through the park.

CHAPTER X.

Hartmann pulled to the gate again and returned slowly to the house. He stood at the entrance watching the two figures until they disappeared down one of the park avenues.

"I thought, when you said no, you meant it, Ulric?"

The young man turned round and scowled at Martha standing by his side.

"What is it to you?" said he, roughly.

"To me? nothing. Don"t frown like that, Ulric. You are angry with me because I reminded my lady of the handkerchief; but it belonged to her, and what could you do with that soft, white little thing? You could not even touch it when you came home from work, and I am sure you have looked at it often enough!"

There was a slight but unmistakable touch of irony in the girl"s voice, and Ulric must have noticed it, for he exclaimed hastily:

"Let me be! I will have none of your sneers and your spying. I tell you, Martha"----

"Now, now, what is to do out there? Are you two quarrelling?"

interrupted the Manager, as he joined them at the door.

Ulric turned away with a muttered exclamation of anger, but he did not seem inclined to continue the discussion. Martha, without answering her uncle, hurried past him into the house.

"What is the matter with the girl?" asked the old man, looking after her wonderingly, "and what were you two about? Have you been giving her hard words again?"

Ulric threw himself sullenly down on the bench.

"I am not going to be taught what I should do or leave undone, least of all by Martha."

"Well, well," said his father quietly, "she is very sure not to do anything to vex _you_."

"Why should not she vex me as well as any one else?"

The Manager looked at his son and shrugged his shoulders.

"Why, boy, have you no eyes in your head, or will you not see it? It is true, you never did care about the girls, and, after all, it is no wonder if you understand nothing about them."

"What is there for me to understand?" asked Ulric, growing attentive.

His father took his pipe out of his mouth and blew a cloud of smoke slowly into the air.

"That Martha cares for you," he answered laconically.

"Martha? For me?"

"I do believe he did not know it," said the Manager, in unfeigned astonishment. "His old father has to tell him such a thing as that! But that is the way when people fill their heads with all sorts of nonsense, which only confuses them! Goodness knows, Ulric, it is time you gave up all the other folly and took a good managing wife who would bring you to a better way of thinking."

Ulric was still gazing over at the park, and his eyes were fixed and gloomy as before.

"You are right, father," said he slowly. "It is time."

The old man nearly let his pipe fall in his surprise.

"My lad," he said, "that is the first reasonable word I have heard from you. Have you come to your senses at last? Yes, it is time indeed. You could have kept a wife long ago, and where could you find a prettier, a better, or a cleverer than Martha? I need not tell you how happy it would make me for you two to come together. Think it over, Ulric."

The young man sprang up and began pacing rapidly to and fro.

"Perhaps it would be best. There must be an end of this, there must! I felt that to-day again ... and the sooner the better!"

"What has come to you? There must be an end of what?"

"Nothing, father, nothing. But you are right; when once I have a wife, I shall know I belong to her, and my thoughts too. So you think Martha cares for me?"

"Go in and ask her!" cried the Manager laughing. "Do you think that I should have the girl in the house still if she cared for any one else!

She does not want for suitors. I know plenty who would be glad of her, and there is Lawrence who has been trying to win her for ever so long, he has never got her to say "yes" yet. She will say it to-day for you, if you choose; trust me for that."

Ulric listened with eager attention; but in spite of his father"s flattering a.s.surance, there was not much joy or satisfaction to be seen in his face. He looked as though he were trying forcibly to keep down some rebellious feeling which would not let him make up his mind, and there was something wild and almost convulsive in his manner, as, a sudden determination burning up within him, he turned at last to the old man and said:

"Well, if you think I shall not be refused, I ... I will go and speak to Martha."

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