"No, I will not, I do not recognise this settlement. What is it? It is I whom she loves—I! With him it is nothing but a reminiscence and duty yes, and 'a destiny'! A nice destiny! To lay her fresh warm life as a plaster on his blasé existence.… But it is, of course, my own fault! Why did I not take the settlement into my own hands? What a fool I have been! All this scrupulousness and generosity and care, that wind and sun were equally shifted; it was nothing but pretence for want of will; and so I allowed myself to be overawed by him. He has indeed 'pleaded his cause,' as she said that day. 'He could not be without her'—no, I should think not, when he has had enough of the flighty girls and been thrown over by rich coquettes, then he has come to think whether 'the best one' might not still be got—for old acquaintance sake. Or perhaps does it only come to this: he could not bear that another one got her, that is the real truth, I suppose."
Yes, I have been a weakling, a young fool! Would a man have given up such a woman?
In this way I scourged myself—yes, I even reproached myself for not having that night in Schandau gone to her room, then she would have been mine and no choice left her; I forgot that in order to let this happen, we should both have required different natures. For the nearer an action lies to its opposite, the deeper is often the natural barrier that parts them.
But now, what was to be done? Go to her, take back my words, bind her by her promise and be myself responsible for all, past and future? Yes, but where was I to find her? It was likely that she was no longer in Meissen, or in any case that I should not find her there to-morrow.
My head was aching, my confused thoughts jumped nervously here and there. It was not possible for me to
