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"Well, a man who is scarcely less famous: Baron Oldenburg. His name stood close behind ours on the list."
"The Oldenburgs are of ancient family?" asked Oswald, who had learnt to understand the meaning of that remark.
"The Oldenburgs are, after the Grenwitzes, the oldest n.o.ble family in the country," said the baroness, with grand self-satisfaction. "The Grenwitzes can trace their pedigree up to the beginning of the twelfth century; the Oldenburgs date from the end of the thirteenth century, when Adalbert, the founder of that n.o.ble family, was created a baron by the Emperor."
"And the name of Oldenburg?" asked Oswald.
"The Oldenburgs would be sovereigns, like the dukes of their name, if they were legitimate."
"And what makes such a remarkable personage of the baron, aside from his ill.u.s.trious descent?" asked Oswald.
The baroness was rather embarra.s.sed by his question. What was in her eyes so very remarkable in the baron, his sovereign contempt of rank, his sarcastic, ironical manner to those of his own caste--this remarkable feature, which appeared almost immaterial in her eyes, was not exactly a fit subject to be discussed with a man of low birth. She contented herself; therefore, with the vague answer:--
"The baron has very eccentric views about most things in the world, so that I am often afraid for his mind."
At that moment a horseman came galloping from a by-road and stopped his horse as the carnage pa.s.sed. It was a young man with a pleasant, dark face, on which a blond mustache appeared to advantage.
"Ah, baroness--baron--delighted to see you," he called out, doffing his hat and riding up to the coach--"have not had the honor for an eternity----"
"That is, _mon cher_," said the baroness, with her sweetest smile, "because you have not been at Grenwitz for an eternity."
"Ah, very kind, baroness--very kind--baroness, you have not had the goodness yet to introduce me--Baron Felix, I suppose?" continued the dandy, lifting his hat to Oswald.
"Doctor Stein," said the baroness, "my son's tutor--Baron Cloten----"
"Ah, ah, indeed," said Baron Cloten; "delighted--indeed--yes, yes, what I was going to say, baroness, where are you going? if I may ask."
"To Barnewitz."
"Ah, just my way--quiet, Robin, quiet!"
"But, Baron Cloten, it will be a large party," said the baroness, looking at his top-boots and hunting-coat.
"Impossible, baroness; Barnewitz asked me yesterday, as I met him accidentally, to come over to a game of whist; but he did not say a word about a dinner-party."
"It was a joke of his, you may be sure."
"Ah--very likely! Barnewitz has such funny notions. Quiet, Robin!--devil of a fellow, that Barnewitz--no doubt thought it great fun to see me come into the dining-room in top-boots--spoil the fun--I beseech you, baroness--gentlemen--tell n.o.body you have seen me. In a quarter of an hour at Barnewitz. _Au revoir!_"
Thereupon the young man threw his horse round and galloped off at full speed in the direction from which he had come.
Soon afterwards the carriage drove across a rather rough corduroy road, which led straight across the farm-yard of Barnewitz up to the lawn before the great house.
A servant approached to open the carriage door; in the door appeared the figure of a broad-shouldered, bearded man, who would have been superb-looking if indolence and high living had not seriously impaired the harmony of his features. It was Melitta's brother, Baron Barnewitz.
"You are the very first we see," he said, showing his guests into the large room on the right hand of the hall, where they were received by Frau von Barnewitz, a pretty blondine.
"You know how much I value punctuality," replied the baroness, taking the offered seat on the sofa.
"Capital quality," replied Baron Barnewitz; "entirely my conviction--always been--main thing in life and at snipe-shooting--snipe comes up--puff--lies--punctually! Ha--ha--ha!"
"How is it?" asked the baroness, turning to her hostess; "are we going to have a large company?"
"Only forty, or fifty at most."
"That means pretty nearly our whole circle."
"Pretty nearly."
"And--we were discussing the question on the way--will your charming cousin be here also?"
"You must ask my husband; he has attended to the invitations."
"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the latter. "Capital joke--must tell you before the others come. You know we travelled with Melitta all over Italy, and there Baron Oldenburg joined us. Well, we had a very merry time--for Oldenburg can be very pleasant when he chooses. All of a sudden our peace is gone!--all to the devil--excuse me, ladies--one went here, another there. Melitta and Oldenburg said nothing but sharp things to each other, and one fine morning Oldenburg had disappeared--gone--left a note; the air in Sicily too oppressive for a consumptive--would make a little trip to Egypt. Since then three years are gone--now Oldenburg back again--but he only called here to see me, as he said--to see my wife, as I say----"
"But Charles----"
"Well, dear Hortense, among friends--you know, a mere joke--well then, to see us both. When I ask him to come, he says: Yes, if your cousin is not to be there. A few days ago I meet Melitta--I ask her and she says: Yes, if your friend Oldenburg is not to be there. Of course, I a.s.sured both of them they might be quite sure they should not meet the object of their detestation. To make the thing still safer, I sent out two servants with two different lists--on one was Melitta's name--on the other, Oldenburg's. And now they will both come--is not that a capital joke?--Excuse me, I pray, I hear a carriage coming up."
Gradually the room filled up, and then the adjoining suite of lofty and superb rooms, which ended in the rear of the house in a large hall, from which two steps led through folding-doors into the garden.
Oswald had been presented to several ladies and gentlemen, who returned his bow with that cold politeness which the n.o.bles always adopt towards a man of low birth, especially when he fills a position which, in their eyes, is a very subordinate one. He had then withdrawn to one of the deep bay-windows, from which he could observe the new arrivals outside and the company inside at once. A young man with pleasing features and kindly blue eyes joined him there.
"I have the pleasure of addressing Doctor Stein?" he said. Oswald bowed.
"My name is Langen. I am told you were a student at Berlin. Did you know a Mr. P. there? He studied physiology and was my best friend there. I should like to know what has became of him."
It so happened that Oswald knew him and could give Baron Langen the desired information. The sincere interest which the latter manifested for a man who, as Oswald knew, had no earthly recommendation beside his natural abilities and unwearied industry, prepossessed him in favor of his new acquaintance. He was well pleased, therefore, in spite of his inner restlessness, to see the conversation go on, and he felt somewhat more at ease in thus having found one man among so many unknown ones who cared to make his acquaintance.
"What do you say, Baron Langen," he said, after some time, "if in return for my information you were now in your turn to give me some information about the company? Who, for instance, is that old gentleman there in the blue dresscoat with the white hair and red face, who speaks so fearfully loud, as if he wished to make himself heard by somebody standing on the other side of a mountain torrent?"
"That is Count Grieben, one of our richest n.o.blemen. Do you know the pretty story they have about him and the king?"
"No, please let me hear it."
"The king was on a journey and came to our seaport. At the wharf, where the highest officials, the n.o.bility, and so forth had formed in order to receive him, stood the count's carriage with six magnificent bays; on each wheel-horse a jockey in the count's rich livery. The king admired the superb turnout 'All my own raising, your Majesty,' cries the count, with a bold gesture of the hand. 'Including the jockeys?'
replied the witty monarch."
"Not so bad," said Oswald; "and who is that fat lady with the masculine features who is just coming in with her three pretty daughters?"
"A Baroness Nadelitz. She is a Catherine of Russia in miniature.
Formerly she kept the geese of her future husband. She is said to have been so wonderfully beautiful that everybody fell in love with her, and yet so kind-hearted that no one went away mortified. Their marriage, however, was not over happy."
"At all events, she has very pretty daughters," said Oswald. "Then the baron is dead?"
"Yes, and since then she is virtually the master. She shows it literally, for I have seen her myself walking across the fields with her steward, in top-boots and heaven knows what. To be sure the soil was clay, and she sank every moment in above the ankles."
"Who are the two pretty girls who are just now coming across the room, walking arm in arm?"