improve and impart an air of comfort to the Schloss as a dwelling, without interfering with, or injuring the massive antiquity of the exterior, so that many parts of the building present a rather ludicrous contrast between the present arrangement of some of the apartments, and what had been evidently their primitive destination. Altogether the ensemble, although strikingly singular, is far from disagreeable to the eye of a spectator. It must be allowed that a considerably less space would have sufficed for a more superb, as well as a more commodious residence; but, the absence of all uniformity is more than compensated for by the picturesque and disjointed masses of building which surprise the visitor in every possible direction, and any endeavour to explore the whole of this elaborate structure would be fruitless indeed, as many parts of it remain unknown to its present occupier, and perhaps have not been visited for many successive generations.
The deep snow having become firm and hardened, rendered the roads delightfully easy, and the travellers arrived in the highest spirits at the castle; most of them were strangers to it, and the novelty of the scene attracted their attention from object to object, as the baron led them through innumerable corridors and lofty halls, until they reached the warm and cheerful withdrawing room.
“And where is the lady of the house?” eagerly inquired Falk; after the hearty “Welcome to Hartenstein!” had been again repeated to the guests; “I fear that we arrive too early, but the roads are now so good, that we travelled faster than we expected.”
“Alas! I am a widower bewitched,” replied the baron, “so I must e’en solicit the indulgence of the ladies if the absence of the hostess is too observable in my performance of the honours to them. Meanwhile, I trust that this evening, or early to-morrow, my wife will be enabled to resume her agreeable office; we have been spending Christmas with my mother-in-law, and so not entirely to spoil the good old lady’s pleasure, I found myself compelled to leave her daughter with her a couple of days longer.”
“But she may still arrive to-day,” exclaimed several voices at once.
“I certainly expect her,” said the baron; “yet I know how difficult the separation will be, and her present situation renders her mother trebly anxious on her account. Their medical adviser laughs at these alarms, and will not hear of any danger; but you all know how impossible it is to oppose reasoning to the fond wishes of an anxious mother; to-morrow, however, my wife will undoubtedly be here.”
The baron had arranged a hunting party for the gentlemen; Falk alone devoted himself to the ladies and the tea-table, where Cecilia, a near relation of Elisa’s, presided in her absence; he looked more confidently than any of them for the return of Elisa, and at every noise in the castle-yard sprang to the window, in the expectation of seeing her. At last his impatience increased so much, that the party jested him about it.
“Laugh if you will,” he retorted; “but I owe Elisa some satisfaction since last year, consequently her return concerns me more than any of you.”
In reply to the general inquiry, Falk reminded them of the ominous commencement of his New Year’s poem, which he thought might, under the then existing circumstances, have powerfully affected Elisa, although she was too good-natured to make it evident.
Cecilia begged to be enlightened—“You have sufficient reason,” she said, “when all was told her, to atone for the alarm you caused Elisa. But you are, apparently, yourself unaware why the first line of your poem so strongly affected her.”
Cecilia was pressed by all to be more explicit.
She continued. “After what you have related, it was scarcely the story of Angelica, that Elisa excused herself from relating; had she mentioned the circumstance, upon which I am convinced her mind was dwelling at the time, you would doubtless not have read your poem in her presence.”
“Really, you make me uneasy,”
