"So I see, indeed," laughed Bertram. "And now Hildegard must again keep me in good-humour, that I, in my turn, may keep you in good-humour. It were strange indeed, if, under these circumstances, we were not, all of us, in the very best humour!" "This hardly seems to be your case as yet," said Otto, "your laughter notwithstanding." "Nor, I hope, yours either," exclaimed Bertram. "Why do you hope so?" Bertram made no answer. His Heart was full of sorrow and wrath. He saw that the whole affair was arranged--among the two women anyhow--and the easy-going henpecked husband by his side would be sure to say yes to everything, had probably done so already, and this was but the second scene this morning in a nicely-arranged comedy, with all the parts carefully distributed beforehand. Evidently the drive had but one object--to give Otto an opportunity of saying his part. And he, himself?--Why, barely an hour ago he had solemnly protested to the fair stage-manager that never more would he act again! And she had listened to his solemn protest without laughing in his face! Well, well; there might yet be a chance of interpreting some passage in a way that the clever lady had not thought of! Otto broke the silence, after they had been walking side by side for some little time, by saying somewhat humbly-- "You are angry with me!" "What right could I have to be so?" replied Bertram. "I am no relation of yours. I am nothing but a friend; and, as such, I have no right whatever. It is only my duty to give an honest answer if you consult me on a matter of importance. And there is properly no consultation in this case. You are not in need of any advice; you, her parents, are resolved. Nothing is wanting, but the merest trifle--Erna's consent. And, as that is sure to be given in good time, the whole thing is clearly settled, and we may as well talk of something else." "No, no!" exclaimed Otto, "nothing is settled; and the matter is by no means clear--clear--not in my mind, anyhow; and Hildegard has not the faintest conception how things really stand. She thinks it is only my want of resolution that ... And because she knows how much I value your judgment--if I could only tell you everything ..." "But you cannot, and you would be, sorry for it afterwards. Therefore, you had better not try." "But I must at length tell some one, and there is no one else in the world whom I could say it to. Listen: I ... I ..." A kind of spasm passed over the full, round, good-humoured face; the blue eyes, which he kept rigidly fixed upon his friend, seemed to struggle against rising tears. "I--I am ruined!" He had just managed to pronounce these words hoarsely; then he broke, down and sunk upon a log of wood which was lying by the roadside. Bertram had, at first to struggle against the terrible notion that his friend had suddenly gone mad. But his look, though one of utter despair, was not that of a madman.