Life at the castle just at present was anything but
monotonous. In Fraeulein von Schoenau's room, this bright morning, there
were sounds of gay chatter, and many a clear, good-natured laugh.
Marietta Volkmar had come for a little gossip with her old friend, and
as usual during such visits, the laughter and the babble knew no end.
Toni sat in the window-seat, and near her stood Willibald, who, by his
mother's special orders, was to play the _role_ of sentinel.
Frau von Eschenhagen had not yet been able to accomplish her purpose
concerning the opera singer. Her brother-in-law had remained obdurate,
and even from her future daughter, whom she imagined so pliant, she had
met with decided resistance when she demanded that all intercourse
should be broken off between the two. "I cannot do that, dear auntie.
You ask too much," Toni had answered. "Marietta is so noble and good. I
could not wound her so deeply."
"Noble and good!" Frau Regine shrugged her shoulders over the
inexperience of this girl whose eyes she might not open; but she was
diplomatic enough to let the subject drop for the present and bide her
time. Willibald, accustomed to confide in his mother, had told her of
his meeting with Fraeulein Volkmar, and how he had enacted the part of
porter at her suggestion.
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