Vineta, the Phantom City. E. Werner

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СКАЧАТЬ and must be, like him, rough, uncontrollable, and unsusceptible to high and noble influences. I think I fully understand Waldemar's character, but he will allow me to control him. Inferior natures always yield to intellectual superiority, if it is only asserted in the right way."

      "Could you control the boy's father?" asked the count, gravely.

      "You forget, Bronislaw, that I was at the time of my first marriage a young girl of seventeen, without experience and without knowledge of human nature. I should now know how to deal with such a character, and to mould it to my will. Besides, in dealing with Waldemar, I have a mother's authority; he will yield to me."

      The count thought differently, but ere he had time to reply, a light, quick step echoed on the balcony. The door flew open, a young girl bounded into the room, and the next moment was clasped in her father's arms.

      The princess rose and advanced to meet her son who stood in the doorway. "You have been absent a long while, Leo," she said; "we have waited a full hour for your return."

      "I beg your pardon, mamma; the sunset upon the water was so beautiful that we wanted to gaze at it until the last moment."

      With these words, Leo Zulieski took his mother's hand, and leading her to the sofa, sat down by her side. He was very young, perhaps seventeen or eighteen years of age, and bore a striking resemblance to his mother; but the cold, severe expression of that older face was absent from these youthful features, where all was warmth and animation, and from the dark, fiery eyes, which indicated an ardent, impulsive temperament. The young fellow was such a picture of youthful strength, grace, and beauty, that the pride with which his mother took his hand and led him to his uncle might well be pardoned.

      "Leo has no father," she said, sadly. "Whenever he needs a man's advice and guidance, I rely upon you, Bronislaw."

      The count embraced his nephew warmly and cordially, but his glances as well as his thoughts were centred upon his daughter. The joy of meeting her again overruled all other emotions.

      Wanda did not bear the slightest resemblance to her father; she seemed a being unique and unlike all others. Her graceful figure, which was still that of a child, had not attained its full stature or development; her features were those of a child, although their expression was firm and resolute. Her face was pale, but not with illness: it bore the impress of perfect health; a faint flush, called forth by the least excitement or emotion, came and went on her lips and cheeks. The abundant, deep black hair made the exceeding fairness of the complexion still more striking, and the large, dark, liquid eyes were shaded by long black lashes. Wanda indeed gave promise of great beauty. She could not now be called beautiful, but she possessed that indefinable fascination we see in many young girls when standing upon that charmed boundary,

      "Where the brook and river meet,

      Womanhood and childhood sweet."

      In this young girl's whole appearance there was a delightful blending of the petulance and innocence of the child with the gravity of the young lady, who every now and then calls to mind her sixteen years, and feels that her childhood has passed. The halo of early youth, which surrounded her like the fragrant odor around a half-opened rosebud, made her doubly enchanting.

      The first joy and surprise of reunion were over, and the conversation began to flow in quiet channels. The count drew his daughter closer to his side, and playfully chided her for not having returned sooner.

      "I did not know you had come, papa," she said; "and, besides, I had an adventure in the forest."

      "In the forest?" interrupted her aunt. "Were you not with Leo upon the sea?"

      "Only upon our return, Aunt Maryna. We had planned a sail to Buchenholm; Leo thought the distance by water less than that by the forest-path; I maintained the contrary. We disputed a while, and at last concluded to prove which was right. Leo sailed away alone, and I took the path through the forest."

      "Who guided you?" asked the count.

      Wanda smiled archly. "O, some satyr!–one of those old giant-ghosts which now and then flit around here. But you must question me no further, papa. Leo is dying of curiosity to know; he tormented me with questions all the way home, and for this very reason I will not tell him a syllable."

      "This is all a made-up story," cried Leo, laughing; "a subterfuge to explain your late return. You would invent a whole fairy-tale rather than own I was in the right."

      "Subterfuge or not," interposed the princess, "this solitary walk was highly improper. I gave you permission to take a short sail with Leo, but I had no idea he would leave you for hours alone in the forest."

      "Wanda insisted upon it," replied Leo. "She was determined to settle our dispute about the distance."

      "Yes, Aunt Maryna, I would have my own way," said Wanda, emphatically, "and Leo knew that he could not keep me back."

      The princess was about to reprimand her niece for this new exhibition of self-will, but her brother said, hastily, "I feel somewhat fatigued with my journey, and would like to retire to my room. I would also speak with Wanda alone. Good night."

      He rose, took his daughter's arm, and left the room.

      "My uncle seems perfectly bound up in Wanda," said Leo, as the father and daughter disappeared.

      The princess gazed after the two retreating forms, and said, half audibly,–

      "He will spoil her. He idolizes her blindly, as he once idolized her mother. Wanda will all too soon learn her power and exercise it. I feared this before his return; I now see that my apprehensions were just. What about this forest adventure, Leo?"

      "I do not know. It is very likely one of Wanda's jests. She first roused my curiosity by all sorts of hints, then obstinately refused to explain, and made herself merry over my resentment. You know her way."

      "Yes, I know it," the princess said, with a slight frown. "Wanda loves to make sport of us all. You should not let this be so easy for her, Leo, where you are concerned."

      Leo flushed to the forehead. "I, mamma? I often quarrel with Wanda."

      "And yet you allow yourself to be a mere tool for her caprices. I am well aware, my son, who wins in all your quarrels. But this is mere childishness. I wish to speak with you of serious matters. Close the balcony door, and sit down by me."

      Leo obeyed, but his face and manner showed that he was offended, perhaps less at his mother's reprimand than at the word "childishness."

      Without taking the slightest notice of her son's mood, the mother began: "You know that I was a widow when I married your father, and that there is a son of the first marriage still living. You also know that he has been reared in Germany. You will soon see him and make his acquaintance."

      "Do you mean my brother Waldemar?"

      "Yes, Waldemar Nordeck. He lives here in the neighborhood, upon his guardian's estate. I have written to him of our arrival, and hope to see him in a few days."

      Leo's ill-humor vanished, and he showed deep interest in the subject of conversation. "Mamma," he said, hesitatingly, "will you not tell me something definite concerning these family matters? I only know that your first marriage was unhappy, that you had a falling out with Waldemar's relatives and his guardian, and I learned this by hints from my uncle and the old servants of our house. I never questioned my parents; I saw that this topic wounded my father and angered you, and that you both strove to banish its remembrance."

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