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338
ONCE A WEEK.
[Sept. 20, 1862.

the shadow of the trees which skirted it on one side, I thought not of aught which had chilled my friendship for Rupert, but that the happiest moments of my later life had been spent with him and his child. I recalled the past months, during which I had not thought a thought, wished a wish, hoped a hope, which was not in some way connected with Ida, and my heart melted with yearning tenderness over both. I longed to hold Rupert’s hand in mine, and tell him how much I valued these only treasures which fate had left me.

“I reached our favourite spot. It was a bank which hung steeply over a brawling stream. Seven cypresses stood together on the highest point, and beneath them a rustic bench had been placed on which I now sat down to rest. The view of the green fertile plains backed by the ‘terrible purple’ of the mountains was exquisitely beautiful. It was spring, and the grass at my feet was fragrant with violets and jonquils. The half-melancholy, half-enchanting mystery, with which all nature struggles into life, was filling the air with unutterable sweetness. My excited feelings were softened into calm; I felt contented; for me, also, life was not all winter,—there might be spring for me, too. Was not Ida a gift from God, to comfort and console me. A blossom to make vernal my hitherto frozen life?

‘The Serranos tell me you go in a few days,’ said a voice below. The cypresses sheltered me, and I saw Rupert, and a man who belonged to the same secret society as he did, and whom I had seen occasionally at the house, standing in the path just below me.

‘Yes, I go in a week.’

‘Why do you sigh so deeply? Madame Serrano thinks you have wasted your time here quite long enough; as she does not know your occupations, she considers, naturally enough, that Madame Rabenfels has an undue share of your society. I know she has persuaded you to leave the Schloss, and stay the rest of the time with her. But how will Madame Rabenfels receive this intelligence?’

“Rupert muttered an oath.

‘Poor Madame Rabenfels, she will miss both you and your child,’ continued his friend.

‘Pshaw! If Helena wishes it, it is enough. She makes it a point to retain Ida. How can I refuse her? No one has such a right to my devotion.’

‘Really you are unintelligible.’

‘In heaven’s name, are you mad?’ said Rupert, ‘or do you wish to drive me so? What am I to Madame Rabenfels, or Madame Rabenfels to me? We are friends of course—I have a great many friends; but surely friends are left every day. The fact is, I should not have returned at all had not business obliged me.’

‘The Chanoinesse is dying, then?’

‘Yes, poor woman, I believe she is. The house is miserable in consequence: it is like a tomb. I shall be glad to get away. This sort of life suited me while I was disabled; but since, it has been the greatest bore; the first day I put my foot in the stirrup, about a week ago, I was resolved it should not last, and my aunt’s illness has expedited my departure. I am sorry for poor Ida, though; for she will miss her home here and her aunt.’

‘Madame Rabenfels has been of very great use to her, to you,—indeed I may say, to all of us.’

‘Yes, she is a woman of great intelligence and powers of application. I soon discovered that, and made use of it accordingly. I came here to be near the Serranos. There had been a little coolness between us which I could only get over by seeing them constantly, though not at first under their own roof. My visit here has served two purposes. I have worked most diligently with Santa’s help.’

‘And you and the Serranos are more intimate than ever. The affair has been well and cheaply managed, I must say. You may smile and shrug your shoulders, but it is the fact. Poor Madame Rabenfels!

‘Qui plus y perd, plus y amis.

“Rupert laughed as he uttered this quotation from an old French song.

‘Is the rumour true, that instead of leaving her fortune to you, your aunt leaves it to Madame Rabenfels?’

‘It is: she only bequeathes the Schloss to me.’

‘I am sorry.’

‘Nay, I care not for myself, and I am well pleased that she leaves it to one who will serve our cause, and who has been like a daughter to her.’

‘Besides which, you are sure to be her husband’s heir; there is no chance of a reconciliation in that quarter: I have taken care of that, by informing him of this free-and-easy life at Schloss Stein. The interpretation which was placed upon it by all who witnessed it, he is informed of through me, and I am quite sure that his large fortune will help our cause. He will never see her again, and at his death it will be yours.’

“Rupert sighed. Did he, remorseless as he was, feel a little conscience-striken at this cold-blooded villany? It matters little; he listened to these infamous words, and acted as if they expressed his own sentiments.

‘To say the truth,’ went on his friend, ‘Madame Rabenfels is a woman I dislike. She is antagonistic to me in every way. Some persons praise her simplicity and intelligence. I could never discover anything in her but a certain hardness and force of character and will, which I supremely dislike in a woman. I can imagine her obtaining a great influence over some people, but I confess I always breathe more freely away from her; no woman should place herself so at war with the convenances of society as she does.’

“Again Rupert sighed. His friend pursued:

‘What will you do with your child? Had you not better leave her at the Serranos? And then her belongings can be sent after her.’

‘Yes, I think I shall do so.’

‘You will thus get rid of a scene: women always make scenes at parting. Have you any idea what Madame Rabenfels intends doing?’

‘None: but see, the dew is falling; let us go home.’