The Archbishop seemed old and haggard in the morning light,
and it was not difficult to guess that no beauty sleep had soothed his
pillow. It wrung the girl's heart to look at him, and again she accused
herself for lack of all tact and discretion, wishing that her guardian
took his disappointment more vengefully, setting her to some detested
task that she might willingly perform.
The hospitable Count, eager that they should stop at least another night
under his roof, pressed his invitation upon them, and the Archbishop
gave a tacit consent.
"If the Countess is not too tired," said Cologne, "I propose that she
accompany me on a little journey I have in view farther up the river. We
will return here in the evening."
"I should be delighted," cried Hildegunde, "for all sense of fatigue has
been swept away by a most restful night."
The good-natured Count left them to their own devices, and shortly
afterwards guardian and ward rode together down the steep declivity to
the river. The mist was already driven away, except a wisp here and
there clinging to the gray surface of the water, trailing along as if
drawn by the current, for the air was motionless, and there was promise
of a sultry day.
Pages:
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417