now for the first time--rose within me, that Herr von Waldor might have purposely misrepresented those relations in his own interest--you know why. What need to continue to describe the wretched position in which I now was placed; how the net was tightened more closely and more fatally round me, so that I at last had given up all hope of ever being freed from it; all the more because Erna--as you heard yourself--repelled with such passionate indignation your mediation, which I was about to claim. I must confess, I cannot even guess why." The dark eyes of the young man were raised inquiringly to Bertram, who did not at once reply to the questioning look. He had turned aside a little, and was busied refilling the glasses; he did not seem to notice that he was filling the second to overflowing, and that the wine was saturating the table-cloth. "Dear me," he said, presently, "I beg your pardon; I was--thinking. Why, did you ask? Well, we settled already that, according to all experience, girls are not fond of confiding to their fathers the secrets of their hearts. They dread paternal jealousies, a paternal prejudice against the one who ventures to claim the little hand, which, as a matter of course, is far too precious even for the best of the best. But fear not! Erna shall find in me a friend, protector, and counsellor, who hopes to give the proof that one may love like a father without being blinded by a father's prejudices, and, above all, one who means more honestly by her than, I am sorry to say, Herr von Waldor does by you." A dark shadow flitted over the young man's open countenance.