The Malady of the Century | Page 8

girl in the gap in the
wall, who seemed very much surprised at the sight of their evident
intimacy. The young lady stood up rather hastily and went a few steps
toward the newcomer, a servant-maid, who had brought a cloak for her
mistress, and took charge of her album, sunshade, and large straw hat.
"Is it so late already?" she said, with a naive surprise, which left no
room for doubt even to Wilhelm's modesty.
"Certainly, fraulein," said the maid, pointing with her hand to the
distant mountain, whose peaks were already clothed with the orange
hue of twilight; then she looked alternately at her young mistress and

the strange gentleman, whose handsome face she inwardly noted.
"Do you think of making any stay here?" asked the young lady of
Wilhelm, who followed slowly.
"Yes, certainly," he answered at once.
"Then we may become good friends. My parents will be glad to make
your acquaintance. I did not tell you before that my father is Herr
Ellrich."
As Wilhelm merely bowed, without seeming to recognize the name,
she said rather sharply, and slightly raising her voice:
"I thought as you came from Berlin you would be sure to know my
father's name--Councilor Ellrich, Vice-President of the 'Seehandlung.'"
The name and title made very little impression on Wilhelm, but his
politeness brought forth an "Ah!" which satisfied Fraulein Ellrich. They
left the ruins by an easy path which Wilhelm had not noticed before,
and walked together to the entrance of the hotel, where she took leave
of him by an inclination of her head. He betook himself to his room in a
dream, and while he recalled to his mind the picture of her beautiful
face, and the clear ring of her voice, he thought how grateful he was to
this chance, that not only had he become acquainted with the girl, but
that he had avoided in such a glorious fashion the discomfort of a
formal introduction. Also Wilhelm knew himself well, and felt sure that,
badly endowed as he was for forming new acquaintances, he could
never have become friends with Fraulein Ellrich apart from the
accident of his fall in the castle yard.
Dinner was served at separate tables where single guests might take it
as they pleased, and Wilhelm was absentminded and dreamy when he
sat down. He scarcely glanced at the large, cool dining-room,
ornamented with engravings of portraits of the Grand Dukes of Baden
and their wives. Six large windows looked into the valley of the Gutach
with its little town of Hornberg, and the mountains lying beyond. He
hardly noticed the rather silent people at the other tables, in which the

English element predominated. He had come in purposely late in the
hope of finding Fraulein Ellrich already there. She was not present; but
he was not kept long in suspense before a waiter opened the door, and
the lovely girl appeared accompanied by a stately gentleman and a stout
lady. They seemed to be known to the servants, for as soon as they
appeared the headwaiter and his subordinates rushed toward them, and
with many bows and scrapes took their wraps from them and ushered
them to their places.
Wilhelm, who possessed very little knowledge of society, was
somewhat at a loss. Ought he to recognize the young lady? If he
followed his inclination, he certainly would do so. But her parents!
They seemed to be cold and reserved-looking. Happily all fell out for
the best. The Ellrichs walked straight to the table where he was sitting,
and in a moment Wilhelm was greeting his lovely acquaintance with a
low bow. Her quick eyes had already recognized him from the doorway.
She returned his greeting smiling and blushing, and as her father
nodded kindly, the ice was broken. Wilhelm introduced himself, and
the councilor gave him the tips of his fingers and said: "If you have no
objection we will sit at your table." His wife, who gazed at Wilhelm
through a gold "pince-nez" with hardly concealed surprise, took her
place next to him; on the other side sat her husband, and opposite the
daughter's face smiled at him.
The councilor was a well-preserved man of about fifty, of good height,
dressed in a well-made gray traveling suit, with a light gray silk tie
adorned with a pin of black pearl. His closely-cut hair was very thin,
and had almost disappeared from the top of his head. His chin was
clean-shaven, but his well-brushed whiskers and closely-cut mustache
showed signs of gray. His light blue eyes were cold and rather
tired-looking, at the corners of the mouth were evident signs of
indolence, and his whole appearance gave an impression of
self-consciousness mixed with indifference toward the rest of mankind;
his wife, stout, blooming, and