The carriage rolled off. Oswald followed it long with his eyes; then he crossed the bridge, bowing his head, and went up to the château. The sun had risen, and was flooding the gray walls with rosy lights; in the dewy garden the birds were singing their carols--but Oswald saw a dark gray veil drawn over the charming morning, for in his ear sounded yet the baron's words: Which of us is still able to love with all his heart? Which of us has yet a whole heart? CHAPTER IV. "Do you fell refreshed by your nap, dear Grenwitz?" asked the baroness. "I thank you, dear Anna Maria, very much!" replied the old baron. It was the afternoon after the eventful ball at Barnewitz; the speakers were in the same room, looking out upon the garden, in which, a week before, the conversation between Melitta and the baroness had taken place. The baroness was again sitting, as then, near the open glass-doors which led upon the great lawn, on which Melitta's eyes had for the first time fallen upon Oswald, and again the admirable lady was sewing industriously, as if she had to earn her daily bread by her needle. The baron sat opposite to her, in the same rocking-chair which Melitta had occupied. He was just awaking from an afternoon nap, and looked, with his old glazed eyes, through the open door upon the lawn, where his pet, the peacock, displayed his gorgeous plumage in the bright sunlight. "Very much," he repeated, stretching his limbs. "But you look very tired yet," said the baroness, fixing her cold gray eyes searchingly upon the baron's faded features; "these pretentious, noisy parties are real poison for you, and I have reproached myself, while you were sleeping, that I did not make you go home sooner yesterday." "But I assure you, my dear Anna Maria, I am very well; I mean, not worse than usually; not much worse," said the good old man, timidly; for he was too well trained ever to contradict his Anna Maria, whom he loved and honored above all things. "But you must take particularly good care of yourself these days," said the latter, sewing busily; "we must start at least in a week from to-day, and you will need all your strength to bear the fatigue of such a journey. Would to God we were all safely back again! I really am very reluctant to go! Your feeble health--the dangers of a sea-voyage--and then: will Heligoland really benefit you? Doctor Braun says so, to be sure, but who can trust all physicians? If their advice brings success, they are triumphant; if not, why, it is not their fault, but the patient's, who has not done all he ought to have done. And what does it matter for the doctor, whether you come back sick or well, whether you live or die--but I, but we--oh Grenwitz, what would become of us if you should be taken from us!" The baroness looked up from her work, and in her eyes appeared something which in other women would have been a tear.