Perhaps Falkenried thought of all this as he listened to his friend
grown almost enthusiastic on the subject, but he said nothing. He had
grown more silent and stonier than ever, if that were possible, during
the last few days. And when he did ask a question concerning the
every-day affairs of life, one felt it was merely mechanical, and that
he scarcely cared whether he received an answer or not.
Now as Adelheid entered the room, fully equipped for her journey, he
turned to her and offered his arm to escort her to the carriage. After
he had helped her in it, Wallmoden entered, and as the coachman cracked
his whip, said:
"We'll be back to-morrow without fail--good-bye."
Falkenried bowed and stepped back. It mattered little to him whether
they came back to-morrow or not, all friendships were over for him. But
as he entered the house again, he said:
"Poor Ada, she deserved a better fate."
Everything was going on in the usual quiet fashion at Fuerstenstein.
Willibald had been there for a week. He was two days later than he had
expected to be; but he had met with a slight accident, and his hand was
hurt, so he told his uncle; and this was perfectly satisfactory, and not
at all alarming, as the hand was nearly healed now. The head forester
found his son-in-law changed since his last visit, and changed for the
better, too.
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