A Hero of the Pen

"Of which I have no conception."

"For which you will have none, and which will yet assert its right, like the home-bud at that very moment when you called it poor and narrow."

Jane was for a moment speechless with pride and anger. What had taught this man, who in his revenge and absence of mind often forgot the simplest, most familiar things, to glance so deeply into her soul, although her features never betrayed what was passing there? What induced him, with such exasperating clearness, to bring to light sentiments which she herself would not confess? For the first time that indefinable oppression she always experienced in his presence, found a decided reason; she felt dimly that in some way danger threatened her from this man; that she must at any price hold herself far from him, even on account of this one provocation.

Miss Forest drew herself up with her utmost dignity, and measured the professor from head to foot. "I regret, Mr. Fernow," she said, "that your penetrating glance has so deceived you. I alone am accountable for my sympathies and antipathies; besides, I assure you that I thoroughly detest sentimentality and revery in whatever form and that to me nothing in the whole world is so antagonistic as–a hero of the pen."

The word was spoken, and, as if he had received a wound, the professor trembled under this irony. The flame again flashed up in his face, and from his blue eyes darted a lightning glance that would have made any other than Jane tremble. For an instant a passionate, indignant reply seemed to quiver on his lips; then he suddenly averted his face, and placed his hand over his eyes.

Jane stood immovable. Now she had her will. The storm was invoked. She had made him angry, angry as he had been that day when he had so hastily lifted and carried her in his arms to disprove her insinuation of his want of physical strength.

What now?

After a momentary pause, Fernow turned to her. His face was pale but perfectly calm, and his voice lacked that peculiar vibration it had possessed during the whole interview.

"You seem to forget, Miss Forest, that even a lady's privileges have their limit," he said. "If the social circle in which you move, allows you so free an expression of your opinions, I beg leave to remind you that I do not belong to that circle, and will not tolerate direct insults. I should have answered a man otherwise. As for you, I can only assure you that it will henceforth be my especial care that our paths do not again cross."

And with a bow just as cold and distant, just as haughty as Miss Forest herself had at her command for persons not agreeable to her, he turned away and vanished behind the wall.

Jane remained standing there motionless, in a sort of bewilderment, which gradually yielded to the consciousness of what this man had presumed to say to her. He had mortified, chided, repulsed her! Her, Jane Forest! This pitiable scholar, upon whom until this hour she had looked with sympathetic contempt! The contempt indeed was over, but who could have dreamed that this man, so timid, so helpless in every-day life, could in a moment, when the conventional barriers fell, become so unmasked! In the midst of her resentment, Jane experienced something like a deep satisfaction, that he to her and to her alone, had shown himself in this light; but that did not lessen her exasperation, neither did the consciousness that she had driven him to extremities, and that the rebuke was just, in the least console her.

In one thing at least this German professor had succeeded, a success no one had before achieved; he had broken through the icy coldness with which the young lady had thus far met all, and had brought to the surface an ardent glowing passionateless, which rose in arms against him. She hated this man, who had forced upon her the first humiliation; hated him with the whole energy of a proud, spoiled nature, which had deemed itself unapproachable, and now for the first time had found its master. The costly lace of her handkerchief had to atone; it lay torn in pieces on the ground; but she did not care. Neither did she care that the twilight was falling, that she was two hours' distance from B. and must go back on foot; for nothing did she care after this quarrel. With a passionate movement, she lifted her hat from the ground, and scornfully thrust aside with her foot the ivy twigs that came in her way.

"'It will henceforth be my especial care not to cross your path again!' Well, Professor Fernow, you may rely upon it that I shall not cross yours, and so I hope we have parted forever!"

Jane gave her head a toss that indicated her contempt of the whole world in general and Walter Fernow in particular, and then with rapid steps she swept along the path leading down into the valley. There, dense shadows already lay, while thicker and thicker the twilight wove its gray veil around the ruins of the old castle, around the place where two human hearts had come so near, and had parted so far asunder.

CHAPTER V.

Face to Face

A few days later, two gentlemen in elegant travelling dress, were walking from the railway station, up the street leading to Doctor Stephen's house.

"Don't be in such a hurry, Alison!" said the elder, somewhat pettishly; "I cannot keep up with you in this heat, and what will Miss Jane think if she happens to be at the window and sees you coming along at such a break-neck pace?"

The warning, superfluous as it might seem, was quite in place here; Alison moderated his pace as if he had been guilty of some unheard-of crime, and turned the glance with which he had been impatiently scanning the houses, to his companion.

"Meeting you was a great surprise," continued Atkins. "We believed you in London; was it not your plan to go directly from there to Paris?"

"Certainly, but as business called me to the Rhine, and as Miss Forest had been for some weeks in B., I came out of my way so as to pass a few days with her. I was very much surprised at your decision to accompany her to Germany."

"You were surprised because I always derided the country," returned Atkins indifferently. "I came here mostly on Miss Forest's account, she is the only practical thing in this sentimental land; I am nominally Miss Jane's guardian, although she is more than independent in all things; and I did not think it proper for her to cross the ocean alone. And, besides, as I know so many Germans in America, I would not deny myself the satisfaction of admiring them in their own much vaunted fatherland. I hope you thank me for remaining at the side of your betrothed."

"Certainly!" replied Alison in a somewhat chilly tone, "I am only astonished that the requirements of Miss Forest demanded so long an absence on your part."

The old sarcasm again appeared in its full sharpness on Mr. Atkins' face, as he cuttingly replied. "Give yourself no uneasiness, Henry. Your future fortune is in safe hands."

"I did not ask in my own interest," said Alison angrily.

"But in those of Miss Jane, which in a year's time will be yours. Well, do not get angry! It is only natural that you should concern yourself with this matter, and I perhaps owe you some explanation. You know, I suppose, that the deceased Mr. Forest, during the last years of his life, converted most of his property into money. The money is safely deposited, all the other business was settled in two months after his death; the landed property is in good hands; a fortune entrusted to my stewardship would not be placed in jeopardy for the sake of a pleasure tour, Mr. Alison."

In spite of his displeasure, Henry had listened with marked attention and satisfaction, he now knew the most important thing, and quickly changing the subject, he asked:

"And how do you like Germany?"

"I find it tedious enough. It is just what I thought, and the life here in this learned city of B. is perfectly unendurable! I assure you that by staying here Miss Jane makes a sacrifice to her father's wishes. I assure you she is thoroughly disgusted with these formalities and sentimentalities among which she gets so hopelessly entangled, while I take an unceremonious flight away from them all."

"And was it on this account you went to Hamburg?"

"No, I had business there."

"Do you employ your European travels in business transactions," asked Alison gravely.

"Not I; I went in Miss Forest's interests. It was to look after an old debt we have often tried to settle, but in vain."

The young merchant's attention was now fully aroused.

"Is the debt a large one?" he asked, as if incidentally.

"Yes."

"And you hope to secure it?"

"I hope so."

"Then I wish you success," said Alison with animation. "It is always pleasant for a merchant to cancel old debts."

"Do you think so?" asked Atkins maliciously. "It may cost us half a million."

Happily, Alison did not hear these last words, which were spoken only half aloud; for at this moment, his whole attention was directed to the windows of the house before which they halted. Atkins rang the bell and the door was opened by Frederic who was expecting his master. His face grew noticeably long as he saw Mr. Atkins, who, during his stay in B., had not laid claim to the doctor's hospitality, but had lodged at a hotel, daily calling at the house where his ward was staying.

"Is Miss Forest at home?"

"No."

"And Doctor and Mrs. Stephen?"

"They, too, have gone out."

"Are they expected back soon?"

"Every minute."

"Then we shall do better to wait here in the garden than to go back to the hotel," said Atkins. "Frederic, announce our arrival to the family immediately upon their return."

Frederic gazed after the retiring gentleman with open displeasure. "And here is another! This makes the third who has come. These American guests will at last drive us out of house and home. I wish"–His further mutterings were lost in the closing of the door which he had shut with such violence that the window panes rattled.

"What is the matter with the fellow?" asked Alison, as they entered the garden, "he gave us a very singular reception."