How much, thought Charlie, were Herminia and her cousin to be envied;
they had been, and were, so successful in their love, and all through
the fortunate little scheme of the Countess and Ernestine.
How he longed to show the latter to his sisters; for Charlie had
three, in that dear old home in Warwickshire, all softly featured and
gently mannered girls, such as England excels in, more than all the
world besides. Would they love her? But could they fail to do so?
Well, his father might, perhaps, oh, no! he could not look coldly on
her, because she was a foreigner. Pure innocence and beauty belong
to no country in particular; and Ernestine looked more thoroughly
English than many an English lady Charlie had seen in Regent Street
and the Row.
What was to be the end of all this?
In spite of all his prudence and the suggestions of reason, Charlie
had fallen madly in love, without considering what a costly whim a
high-born wife would prove to a Prussian subaltern; or how the prize
was to be obtained, the whim gratified.
Eleven was struck by the great old clock in the hall of the Schloss,
and Charlie, who had been awaiting it, watch in hand, took his wax
taper, and softly and swiftly descended the great staircase to the
boudoir of the Countess, a small octagonal apartment that opened off
the drawing-room.
It was, of course, without a fireplace; but, in lieu thereof, in one
corner stood the prettiest of little German stoves, a black iron
cylinder, or column, surmounted by a large coronet of ornamental
brass, and set on a block of white marble. Numerous statuettes under
glass shades, and pretty bijou articles, littered all the marble and
marqueterie tables, with Dresden china vases of flowers, gathered
fresh that morning by Ernestine and Herminia in the garden at the
foot of the castle rock. The furniture and hangings were all pale
blue silk, trimmed with white lace or silver; water-colours decorated
the wall, and, in a place of honour, hung a Berlin engraving
representing the meeting of Wellington and Blucher at La Belle
Alliance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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