LIBRARY 
 
 ^University of Cata
 

 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE.
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE 
 
 A NOVEL 
 
 BY 
 
 MARGARET RUSSELL MACFARLANE 
 
 CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED 
 
 739 & 741 Broadway, New York
 
 
 
 M3 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 
 
 1886, 
 By O. M. DUNHAM. 
 
 Press of W. L. Mershon & Co. 
 Rahway, N . J.
 
 TO 
 
 ELSA VON STRALENDORFF.
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 i. 
 
 T ETTER from Leopold Uhlheim to 
 \_j Count Louis de Vere, attache" of the 
 French Embassy at Berlin. 
 
 SCHLOSS KARTLOW, MECKLENBURG, 
 
 June ii, 18 . 
 
 MY DEAR LOUIS : You ask how I like it, or, 
 in your characteristic way, if it is so very bad. 
 It might be worse, and it serves my purpose, 
 which is to gain time. No one likes to be a 
 pack-horse ; moreover, the position of tutor in 
 this half feudal country is not an enviable one. 
 It is that of an upper servant tolerated at the 
 family board not so bad for me, however, as I 
 knew these people in the South last year when 
 I was rich and independent. Frau von 
 Althaus, hearing of my misfortune, asked me 
 to come here to teach her nephew during the
 
 10 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 summer. After all, how could I do better? I 
 love the country, and the alternative offered 
 me by my worthy uncle, that of being chained 
 to a stool in the stifling air of a city office, 
 would kill me. Here I have every thing befit 
 ting a country gentleman but the position, 
 while I am saved the weight that responsibility 
 would incur. Is not this philosophical ? Then 
 too, they treat one well I must confess. Possi 
 bly my absurd pride needs discipline. It gets 
 it in this position. 
 
 The boy, Victor, is nineteen, not clever, but 
 lovable, and fonder of his violin than of math 
 ematics, wherein he is wise. There are two 
 girls, one fair, the other dark, both pretty, but 
 without a marked individuality. The aunt, a 
 widow and a thorough woman of the world, is 
 clever and sympathetic and possesses a degree 
 of tact surpassed by few. Do not smile, Sir 
 Cynic. There is no danger, as you shall pres 
 ently learn. Indeed I think that you will pres 
 ently be convinced that I am insane. 
 
 You have always thought me a sensible, 
 practical man. My self-control has at times 
 commanded your respect. My calm under
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. \ I 
 
 trying circumstances has won your approba 
 tion. I like to dwell on these things, for I am 
 about to upset all your theories, and expose 
 myself to your impartial judgment, which will 
 no doubt be harsh. I need severe measures, 
 for I am like a man who has seen a ghost ; he 
 does not expect others to believe in his hallu 
 cination, and yet nothing can weigh against the 
 evidence of his senses. I am dazed. I lay the 
 case before you, my friend. Bring to bear on 
 it all your forcible argument. Bring me to 
 reason if you can and I shall count you doubly 
 my friend. 
 
 Ten . days ago I left D , traveling over 
 country roads for twenty miles. It was just 
 after a rain and the roads were in a bad state, 
 making it tedious for man and beast. My 
 mind was engrossed in my own affairs and I 
 hardly took note of my surroundings. I was 
 on my way to Kartlow to begin a life very 
 different from the one my fancy had pictured 
 six months ago. The sun went down, and the 
 long northern twilight set in. We were at the 
 foot of a long hill which seemed a hard pull for 
 the tired horses. I jumped out to lighten the
 
 12 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 burden while the vehicle toiled on and disap 
 peared in the dusk. I was standing on the 
 edge of a small pond. The faint hues of the 
 setting sun lingered in the west, and the hills 
 were indistinctly outlined against the sky. 
 Occasionally the notes of the nightingale 
 sounded mournfully in the air. The scene was 
 still and restful. I sat down on a stone and 
 buried my face in my hands. I do not know 
 why I should have been overwhelmed with a 
 sense of lost opportunities at that moment, but 
 regret swept over me keenly. 
 
 Suddenly a voice rose on the stillness, sing 
 ing divinely. I can not tell you what, it sang, 
 but the burden of its song was a wild lament 
 which racked my heart with pain. My own 
 troubles sank into insignificance beside the tale 
 of woe it breathed. The clear, full tones echoed 
 and re-echoed through the dark wood ; now 
 loud, now soft, now bursting into a wild 
 melody, then sinking in a low wail like the cry 
 of something wounded unto death. It was a 
 woman s voice, human in its protest, human in 
 its appeal, a wild, passionate voice that none 
 could hear unmoved. I found myself embody-
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 13 
 
 ing this voice in a divine form with streaming 
 hair and glowing eyes. Tall and well molded, 
 a woman who had been tried by sorrow ; she 
 knew whereof she sang. It was no fancy, but 
 reality ; a passionate yearning cry that found 
 relief in utterance. It ended in a theme of 
 exaltation, broad and grand, as though to put 
 a cloister-wall between itself and the cold 
 world. 
 
 I listened spellbound. 
 
 Suddenly a light flashed in my eyes and 
 roused me. Behind a clump of bushes stood a 
 low peasant hut which I had not before 
 noticed. Through the door just opened the fire 
 light streamed out into the darkness. The 
 great brick chimney was filled with burning 
 peat ; a kettle hung on a hook over the fire, and 
 the smoke curled out and up through the raft 
 ers to find escape in the roof above, casting 
 fantastic shadows on the whitewashed walls as 
 it ascended. In the doorway, peering anxiously 
 out into the darkness, stood a woman in peas 
 ant garb with a child slung over her shoulder. 
 She was tall and broad shouldered. Her brown 
 hair was faded in dull streaks by the sun, her
 
 14 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 eyes were heavy with care and gave her the 
 expression of a beast of burden. 
 
 Where was the ideal conjured by my imagi 
 nation ? Surely, not she ! The door closed 
 and left me chilled. The hut had disappeared 
 in the gloom, the voice was dumb, and the 
 unmusical tones of my driver from the top of 
 the hill reminded me that my journey still lay 
 before me. I stumbled on in silence. I drove 
 on as in a lethargy and awoke to find myself 
 close to Schloss Kartlow. Do you think, Louis, 
 that the vision of the peasant woman brought 
 me to my senses? No, I heard the voice wak 
 ing, sleeping. When I was sad it cheered me, 
 when I was lonely it gave me companionship. 
 At night it took form in my dreams ; by day I 
 saw her in the shadows of the woods. 
 
 For four days I bore this spell passively, 
 knowing that my impulse to examine that hut 
 was madness and meant only disappointment. 
 At last I could stand it no longer and I found 
 my way back to the woods by the mysterious 
 pond. The hut was deserted. A man work 
 ing near by told me that the former occupants, 
 a laborer with his wife and child, had left the
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 15 
 
 place that day. Four days before, the man s 
 sister had died, and directly after the funeral 
 the family had emigrated to America. The 
 girl was dying that night, Louis. Did I hear 
 her soul breathing itself out in music like a 
 dying swan ? It touched a chord in me never 
 before awakened. I have always fancied that 
 I should meet my fate through music, and this 
 woman s voice has stirred my soul to its very 
 depths. I found her but to lose her. 
 
 Perchance she watches over me and knows 
 the bitterness of my regret. She is a beautiful 
 memory that crowds out the real and fills my 
 heart with longing. Now tell me what you 
 think of me. You have known me many years. 
 I know this is madness. Bring me to reason ; 
 and yet I almost wish that you would not. 
 I await your answer with impatience. 
 
 LEOPOLD. 
 
 Letter from Louis, Count de Vere, in Berlin, 
 to Leopold Uhlheim at Schloss Kartlow in 
 Mecklenburg. 
 
 BERLIN, June 15, 18 . 
 
 MY GOOD FRIEND : Your state of mind defies 
 analysis. Give up night wandering and take
 
 16 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 to metaphysics. There is nothing that knocks 
 the nonsense out of one more quickly. If you 
 must fall in love, do not let it be with a shadow. 
 Take the widow, for instance. A ten mile 
 walk daily will soon drive away your hallucina 
 tions. I do not laugh at you. I am somewhat 
 alarmed at this new development, which proves 
 that the strain on your mind has been too 
 great for your endurance. I know your pupil 
 nice boy. I am coming to visit him and you 
 at Kartlow for a week, later. Will talk or 
 shake you into reason then if you have not 
 already forgotten what I hope is only a tempo 
 rary fit of depression. After all, was not the 
 worthy uncle right ? You would have had no 
 time for dreams in his office. 
 
 Always yours, 
 
 Louis.
 
 II. 
 
 WHEN General von Rabenhorst first fell 
 heir to the estate of Rabenhorst by an 
 accident, he hardly echoed the congratulations 
 of his friends. The former master, a man in 
 the prime of life, and his two sons, just verging 
 on manhood, had been venturesome climb 
 ers whose ambition had been to scale the 
 highest mountain peak yet unconquered by 
 man. So they neglected their lands at home 
 and traveled in foreign countries. No wonder 
 the wiseacres wagged their heads and foretold 
 disaster. When they were precipitated into 
 a yawning crevasse on the Jungfrau, it was no 
 more than had been expected. 
 
 But to General von Rabenhorst the sudden 
 extinction of the branch of the family whose 
 sons had inherited the estates of his ancestors 
 for centuries, was horribly unexpected. 
 
 The shock dulled the satisfaction he might 
 otherwise have felt at the prospect of trans-
 
 1 8 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 mitting his inheritance to his sons. He was a 
 soldier, of a race of soldiers who had carved 
 their way to the top by good use of their trusty 
 swords, and a soldier s life of restless activity 
 had ill-fitted him for the quiet existence of a 
 country gentleman. To be sure, he might do 
 as his predecessors had done and spend his 
 winters at the capital and his summers where 
 fancy led him, but he thought of the chances 
 of the Jungfrau with a shudder. No, given 
 an inheritance, it behooved him to guard it, 
 and he was not a man to shirk his duty. More 
 over, there was another reason to reconcile him 
 to his newly acquired lands. 
 
 He had married late in life a beautiful, delicate 
 wife who had borne him two sons and a daugh 
 ter. At the time of the accident which changed 
 his fortunes, her health was rapidly failing. 
 The family estate of Rabenhorst lay in the 
 extreme north of Mecklenburg, bordering on 
 the Baltic shore. It was shut out from the 
 busy world by the roughness of the country 
 roads, that were the only means of reaching the 
 highway leading to the town of D , some ten 
 English miles distant. In the severe northern
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 19 
 
 winter the inhabitants, cut off by heavy snows, 
 were almost isolated. 
 
 Except for an occasional drive to church, or 
 a house-warming in honor of a birthday, the 
 monotony of existence was rarely broken. But 
 in summer the strong sea breeze swept over 
 the land, the dark foliage was alive with night 
 ingales, and the air was laden with the sweet 
 scent of roses. 
 
 To this retreat General von Rabenhorst 
 brought his wife one clear spring day, trusting 
 she might breathe in new life from the bracing air 
 that blew from the Baltic. " Hier ist Ruhe ! " 
 she murmured. 
 
 As the summer days grew longer she revived 
 again, her cheek regained its hue of health, her 
 eye its brightness, and her step its old elas 
 ticity. 
 
 General von Rabenhorst was satisfied, and 
 found work for his idle hours. In the 
 absence of the master the estates had been 
 
 I 
 
 neglected so he called the false steward, who 
 had exercised no supervision for years, to strict 
 account ; he reorganized his forces and took 
 command, and under his systematic rule the
 
 20 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 fields began to thrive and brirg in three-fold. 
 Order was restored where chaos had reigned. 
 
 When the long winter came, there was no 
 thought of going back to the capital. 
 
 " Let us remain," said his wife, and he was 
 quite ready to agree. 
 
 Meanwhile the sons, Ulrich and Otto, grew to 
 be sturdy, fine youths, with the fighting instinct 
 of their race. They rode, hunted, or swam 
 boldly out from the rocky shore with daring 
 that thrilled their old father s heart with pride. 
 When they outgrew the authority of their tutor 
 at home and the time for sending them to a 
 university came, he evinced no surprise at their 
 choice of a military career, as their restless 
 spirits were like his own. 
 
 He only said with an air of remonstrance to 
 Otto, the younger, who was, according to the 
 custom of the family, the heir: 
 
 " But this will unfit you for your future, my 
 son." 
 
 Otto shook his head gayly and answered : 
 
 " Time enough, my father. You were a sol 
 dier too." And when the old man looked back 
 on his youth and remembered how eagerly he
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 21 
 
 had gone forth to fight the world, he could not 
 gainsay him. 
 
 The mother, with her slender daughter by 
 her side, looked proudly at her two fair boys, 
 who, when they left the paternal nest, would 
 come so rarely, and argued gently : 
 
 "Would it not be better for Otto to learn 
 the Landwirthschaft ? " but she was overruled 
 by the eagerness of his desire. 
 
 The Rabenhorsts had always been most con 
 servative. The family, dating back to the 
 twelfth century, had been the last to give up 
 its feudal rights. In those old days it had been 
 allied to the reigning powers, and no son or 
 daughter was allowed to forget the honor this 
 alliance entailed. Pride of race was bred in the 
 bone. The general possessed all the prejudices 
 of his ancestors and instilled them into his sons. 
 
 " For honor all " was the Rabenhorst motto. 
 It was engraven on the hearts of his sons. " A 
 title !" he was wont to say, "What is a title? 
 Our race is older than the petty title of baron." 
 And although this was his title, he rarely used 
 it, signing himself proudly, " Rabenhorst," as 
 though he were a king.
 
 22 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 The winter came again and shut them in. 
 It was more severe than any previous one since 
 they came to Rabenhorst. The fierce winds 
 blew the snow in great drifts around the house 
 and lashed the sea to fury. 
 
 Little Elsa was a tall, slender maid with ash 
 blonde hair. Her large violet eyes questioned 
 mutely and her serious mouth rarely smiled. 
 Unlike her brothers she was frail and delicate, 
 and the blue veins in her temples showed faintly 
 beneath the clear white skin. She was like a 
 breath of sea mist which might be blown away 
 by too sudden a blast. One s first impulse was 
 to pity her delicacy as an evidence of ill 
 health, but when one looked into her clear 
 eyes, or watched the lithe figure tripping 
 over the rocks that lined the shore, her 
 elasticity of movement betokened a perfect 
 organization. Although slender she was well 
 rounded. She had no angles ; her arms tapered 
 from shoulder to wrist, like those of a 
 Psyche ; her eyes darkened and deepened with 
 each varying emotion, and her sensitive lips 
 quivered at a harsh word from any one she 
 loved. She had a quick imperious way with
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE 23 
 
 her inferiors, a gesture of command like her 
 father, and her eye would flash scornfully at 
 any act of cowardice. She stood in awe of her 
 father, but adored her gentle mother, who was 
 instructress, counselor and friend in one. To 
 her she laid bare her child heart with all its 
 joys and griefs, but in her father s presence she 
 preserved a shy silence. He did not under 
 stand his little daughter. She was so different 
 from the frank, sturdy sons whose characters 
 were reflected in their faces. There was noth 
 ing mysterious about them no nonsense, no 
 dreams. Their problems were easily solved ; 
 but this mysterious maid, whom the general 
 sometimes found perched in a high window 
 in the tower looking dreamily out to sea, 
 inspired the blunt old man with mixed 
 feelings. He was inclined to scold her for 
 being different, and yet he did not know 
 wherein she was different. She never asked 
 unnecessary questions ; she was too wise, and 
 she possessed marvelous intuition, intensified 
 by this mystic something which her matter-of- 
 fact old father did not comprehend. 
 
 If he had but known, it was the music in
 
 24 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 her nature struggling for utterance. Music 
 tickles the senses of the masses, touches the 
 emotions of many and the intellect of a few, but 
 it is often a language of unintelligible sounds 
 because the interpreter is merely an imitator. 
 Let a composition be given as perfectly as is 
 mechanically possible, it will not appeal to the 
 listener unless it is rendered with individuality. 
 It is the spirit, not the letter, that is wanted. 
 The interpreter must not only give the com 
 poser s ideas, but he must weld himself into 
 them until they become a part of himself. 
 Then if the story is worth the telling, the 
 instrument and the individual are forgotten in 
 the ecstasy of musical thought evoked by his 
 magic touch. In this annihilation of self lies 
 true art. Let an artist take up the theme and 
 it gains life and breathes a new inspiration. 
 Many have this musical nature, but few are 
 gifted with the power of expression, either 
 in words like Heine or in music like Chopin. 
 They are born dumb, but with an apprecia 
 tion which compensates them in part for 
 their inability to express their aspirations in 
 music.
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 25 
 
 Elsa was one of those happy beings born 
 not only with aspirations, but also with the gift 
 of their expression. As yet she was in her 
 alphabet. 
 
 To her the screaming of the sea gull and the 
 trilling of the nightingale suggested music, and 
 when her mother guided her through the first 
 exercises the little ringers would group them 
 selves into chords and simple harmonies unwrit 
 ten in the books. She wished to soar ere yet 
 her wings were grown. 
 
 In the long dull days that followed the 
 departure of the brothers, Elsa s mother taught 
 her the mysteries of embroidery. Cross stitch 
 and feather stitch were sore trials to her, for 
 her mind would wander out over the sea to 
 that Elfland of Sweden, peopled by her vivid 
 imagination with all sorts of wonders, and her 
 eyes drooping with sleep would follow the fairies 
 further into dreamland. 
 
 Meanwhile letters filled with minute details 
 of their college life came from the brothers. 
 They had already fought their first duels, and 
 bore scars of honor on their brows, the thought 
 of which made their mother shudder and Elsa s
 
 26 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 heart to expand with pride, for on that little 
 heart as well was engraven, " For honor all". 
 
 The general laughed and re-lived his young 
 days in these experiences. Although these 
 were mock duels, with the body well protected, 
 they proved that the boys were fearless and did 
 not shrink from pain. 
 
 One dark day there was a duel fought 
 without guards and the victim was the eldest 
 son. Some hasty quarrel about a trifle, pro 
 voked by a hot blooded Southerner, it was 
 said, a challenge, a sword thrust, and all was 
 over. 
 
 In the first days of mourning fresh disaster 
 followed at Rabenhorst. The little mother, 
 prematurely cast by this cruel blow on abed of 
 sickness, gave birth to a boy and never rallied. 
 Just before she sank into unconsciousness, she 
 called Elsa to her side. " Be all to him," she 
 whispered, in tones that sank deep into Elsa s 
 heart, but whether she meant the baby in the 
 cradle or the white haired man kneeling beside 
 the bed prostrated by grief, Elsa could not 
 determine. 
 
 The general turned to Otto and leaned on
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 27 
 
 him, ignoring the other two. Indeed, he 
 looked on little Heinrich, whose advent had 
 cost so dear, with aversion, inasmuch as he was 
 the usurper of his favorite son s inheritance, 
 since by the family custom the estates must 
 go to the youngest. 
 
 Elsa, sensitive and shy, was overcome with 
 awe of her father and dared not express her 
 longing to be of comfort to him. 
 
 " I will be all to thee, little brother," she 
 whispered, straining the forsaken boy to her 
 young heart, that was longing for the sympathy 
 and love of which death had robbed her, and 
 the child hushed its sobs at the sound of her 
 voice and welcomed her coming with smiles. 
 
 " It is well I became a soldier," said Otto 
 half gayly. 
 
 As his tastes did not run to farming, he did 
 not quarrel with the destiny that had inter 
 fered to deprive him of an inheritance, but the 
 general looked at him sadly and said nothing. 
 
 Life went on much as before in the quiet 
 household. The general took a housekeeper 
 for his house and a governess for his daughter. 
 The former was a good natured " Stifts dame",
 
 28 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 old and fat, a distant relative of the family who 
 was quite ready to resign the dull and restricted 
 life of the convent for the good living offered 
 her at Rabenhorst. 
 
 The governess was a pedantic woman, the 
 daughter of a parson, whose fiance, a theo 
 logical student, was waiting for a parish. Her 
 character was as hard and colorless as her face, 
 but she filled her mission to the best of her lim 
 ited capacity. She had no imagination ; indeed, 
 she disapproved of imagination as an invention 
 of the devil, and when Elsa talked about the 
 mermaids that sang in the storms at night, 
 Miss Moller frowned and bade her pray against 
 such wicked fancies. Her rebuke silenced, but 
 did not convince Elsa. 
 
 At Rabenhorst there was a library of long 
 forgotten lore in the store-rooms under the 
 roof, and here Elsa found her theories con 
 firmed by authority superior to her teacher. 
 While Miss Moller instructed her in the rudi 
 ments of music, deportment, needle-work, and 
 the simpler branches, the little maid found 
 food for her imagination in the mysteries of 
 the Nibelungen and quaint old tales of early his-
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 29 
 
 tory. These stories dramatically embellished she 
 repeated to the ever listening ear of little Hein- 
 rich, who took them in with his earliest breath. 
 To these children the howling of the wind 
 was emblematic, and the rustling of the pines 
 spirits whispering things unknown to mortals. 
 Although Miss Moller taught Elsa s ringers to 
 move correctly over the keys, the melodies 
 brought forth were not always those written 
 before her. Sometimes in the evening, by the 
 firelight, the old father down in his study 
 would hear wild harmonies from the great salle 
 above, ringing changes on some minor theme 
 for with her mother s death the minor chord 
 had come into Elsa s life. Then he would 
 sigh and wish that she were more like her 
 mother, who was gentle and domestic. 
 Soon little feet would patter across the 
 floor, the music would be lower, and any 
 one listening might hear a childish voice 
 saying, " Sister Elsa, play mamma s song." 
 Then Elsa would play a low melody like 
 an angel s voice, lovely and tender, end 
 ing in a cadence sad and full of longing, 
 and the nurse discovering Heine s escape,
 
 30 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 would break in on the scene and carry the tru 
 ant back to his cot reproaching "gnadiges 
 fraulein " for calling him away. 
 
 As Elsa grew older her piano became more 
 and more the recipient of her joy or sorrow. 
 It responded eagerly to her confidences and 
 kept them sacred, but she would always leave 
 it for a gallop across country on the swift- 
 footed Wildfeuer, that obeyed his mistress s 
 guiding hand by taking any hedge or ditch, 
 however high or wide. She rode with her 
 father and brother Co the hunting field in the 
 early morning, and left them there, for her 
 sensitive nature shrank from pain inflicted on 
 helpless animals. There had always been the 
 ordinary bond of relationship between her 
 brother and herself, but nothing more. One 
 day an incident occurred to rouse the sympathy 
 between them that had only been sleeping, 
 but at a terrible cost to Elsa. 
 
 Riding one morning across the fields together, 
 they came suddenly upon a wide ditch which 
 Wildfeuer refused to take. 
 
 " At it again," cried Otto. " Don t let him 
 conquer."
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 31 
 
 "Come, Wildfeuer," cried Elsa, imperiously, 
 urged by the taunt in Otto s tone, but the 
 horse refused again. 
 
 " He shall go," shouted Otto, the color 
 mounting angrily to his face, and he struck the 
 animal a vicious blow with his whip. 
 
 Wildfeuer, unaccustomed to such treat 
 ment, reared, plunged, then dashed forward 
 and fell short, throwing Elsa over his head. 
 She jumped up lightly and ran back to the 
 horse, that lay struggling in the ditch. Her 
 brother was there before her. A glance of 
 Otto s practiced eye told him that Wildfeuer s 
 days were over. Both his forelegs were 
 broken. He writhed in agony, and looked 
 imploringly at his mistress, as though begging 
 her to put him out of pain. 
 
 Elsa stood by as pale as death. She knew 
 the inevitable result. 
 
 " There is no help for him," she said, half- 
 questioning. She knew there was none. Otto 
 called the groom, who was carrying his gun. 
 
 " I must do it," he cried, in a broken 
 voice, feeling himself to blame, 
 
 He fired. A quiver, a straightening of the
 
 32 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 limbs, and all was still. Then Elsa threw 
 herself down on the sward near him, and burst 
 into a passion of tears. 
 
 And when Otto, troubled with remorse, for 
 she had not reproached him, came to her and 
 said, " We have taken one of Wildfeuer s 
 hoofs to have mounted for you," she thought 
 how often those hoofs had pawed the court 
 yard, impatient for her coming, and cried : 
 
 " No, no, Otto, I could not bear it," cover 
 ing her face with her hands. Then Otto, 
 overcome, blurted out his regret for the 
 accident. She looked him full in the face, and 
 impulsively threw her arms around his neck 
 and clung to him. In this embrace he recog 
 nized a new need in this tall, fragile sister of 
 his, who had always held aloof and appeared 
 cold. The appeal in her clinging arms 
 touched his heart, and made him realize 
 vaguely that there were depths in her nature 
 of which he had known nothing. After 
 that they were near friends. But she never 
 spoke of Wildfeuer, and nothing could tempt 
 her to mount another horse, for she was true 
 to his memory. But, a greater trial was
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 33 
 
 in store for Elsa ; the loss of this newly-found 
 and dearly cherished brother. Ulrich, she had 
 scarcely known ; her mother had become a 
 faint, sweet memory, tinged with sadness, but 
 Otto was a new treasure which she had hardly 
 time to appreciate, before it fell from her grasp. 
 He was accidentally killed while hunting, by a 
 shot from his own gun. No one knew how, 
 for his lifeless body was found in the woods 
 by the sea. 
 
 When they brought him home, the old gen 
 eral looked upon the face of his beloved son 
 with a smothered sob, and turned away with 
 out a word. 
 
 This last blow seemed to crush him. He 
 shut himself in his study and would respond 
 to no one until his daughter, taking little Hein- 
 rich by the hand, went to the door begging him 
 to open it. Mechanically he obeyed and the 
 wan and pallid face of the old man struck his 
 daughter s heart with consternation. 
 
 " Father, we are all that are left to you," she 
 faltered, but he did not seem to hear her. " Oh ! 
 father, are we then nothing?" she cried bit 
 terly. The intensity of her feeling overcame
 
 34 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 the sensitiveness and pride that had always 
 silenced her in his presence. " We, too, are 
 your children, and we have no one but you." 
 
 The old man raised his head. Little Hein- 
 rfch looked at him with his mother s eyes. He 
 had never noticed before that the boy s eyes 
 were like his mother s. They seemed now to 
 bear a message from heaven. 
 
 " My daughter," he said, " I have sinned in 
 placing all my affection on Otto. God has taken 
 him to rebuke me, and God forgive me, I will 
 live henceforth for you, my children." Then, 
 utterly unmanned, he burst into sobs, that 
 relieved the strain upon his brain. 
 
 This happened about Christmas time. The 
 ensuing winter was very dreary, and it required 
 all of Elsa s efforts to rouse her father from the 
 stupor into which he had fallen after Otto s 
 death. Thus, in thinking of him, shehad no time 
 for her own sorrow, and for the first time in 
 her experience she found in her music no relief. 
 It was the echo of her grief sinking back upon 
 her heart. Indeed, her only safeguard was in 
 silence, for the music unnerved her and threw 
 her into wild outbursts of weeping that made her
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 35 
 
 ill. Often she looked with a sigh at the closed 
 instrument, standing like a great coffin in the 
 salon. Sometimes she raised the lid to pass 
 her hand caressingly over the dumb keys, 
 but the cover would invariably fall again, for 
 the time when she could talk about her sorrow, 
 even through music, had not yet come. 
 
 Heine called for " mamma s song" in vain. 
 She could play " mamma s song" least of all 
 in those days. 
 
 Elsa was almost alone in her part of the coun 
 try, although there were three families within 
 visiting distance with whom the Rabenhorsts 
 had friendly intercourse. They met at rare 
 intervals in winter, partly because of the rough 
 traveling and partly because the other families 
 often spent the winter months at the capital. As 
 most of the birthday fetes fell in summer, the 
 neighbors were brought together more fre 
 quently at that season. 
 
 On one side their nearest neighbors were the 
 von Konigsmarks ; beyond them the estates 
 were owned by the grand duke and worked by 
 inspectors. On the other side lived the Wald- 
 becks, and some two hours drive beyond, in
 
 36 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 Schloss Kartlow, lived the von Strahls, distant 
 relatives of Elsa. The latter family consisted 
 of three children who were in delicate health 
 and spent their winters and most of their sum 
 mers traveling in milder climates. 
 
 The Konigsmarks visited Rabenhorst more 
 frequently than the rest, Frau von Konigsmark 
 having been an intimate school friend of Elsa s 
 mother. She had three daughters and several 
 sons. The eldest child, who inherited the prop 
 erty by the family custom, was a girl, not distin 
 guished in anyway except for being an heiress. 
 The second daughter, Theodora, or Donna, as 
 she had always called herself, was Elsa s nearest 
 friend. She was twenty-two, tall, and well 
 made, with dark hair and brilliant color. She 
 had a quick, energetic manner, " emancipirt " 
 Frau vonWaklbeck called it, but every one knew 
 that the Frauleins von Waldbeck were most 
 exemplary young ladies who rarely spoke 
 above a whisper or dared call their souls their 
 own. 
 
 Donna had been maid of honor to the Prin 
 cess Caroline for four years. Her winters had 
 been spent at the capital and her summers at
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 37 
 
 fashionable watering places, for the princess 
 was an invalid and continually tried some new 
 "Kur" in the vain hope of recovering from the 
 disease which at last overcame her. Two 
 months before she had died and left Donna 
 free to return home, where she was regarded by 
 the girls as a superior being who had seen the 
 world. It was a question whether contact with 
 the world had improved her. She had lost the 
 shyness which she possessed at eighteen and 
 gained a certain sharpness of repartee not 
 always agreeable to those who entered into a 
 tilt with her. Moreover, her independent ways 
 shocked the old fashioned notions of these 
 quiet people living in a secluded corner of 
 the world and governed by the strictest eti 
 quette. She took the government of the family 
 into her own hands on her return, for her 
 mother was a helpless woman, who let things 
 take care of themselves, while the father 
 amused himself in hunting and riding over his 
 estates, careless of what went on irudoors. 
 Donna rode about the country alone, much to 
 Frau von Waldbeck s disapproval, which she 
 freely expressed, and when she saw Donna s
 
 38 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 horse cantering almost daily in the direction of 
 Rabenhorst, her criticism knew no bounds. 
 How the general could allow such an intimacy 
 passed her comprehension. What could that 
 stupid Fraulein von Klein, who had, by the 
 way, been promoted to the position of lady 
 companion, as well as housekeeper, be thinking 
 of? The difference in their ages was a suffi 
 cient objection to their intimacy. But she 
 exhausted herself in expletives behind Donna s 
 back, and was sweetness personified in her 
 presence, doubtless fearing Donna s sarcastic 
 tongue. Thus time passed, until the first day 
 of June brought Elsa s fete day. 
 
 On the eve of her eighteenth birthday, she 
 was sitting in the grand salon ; a fire was 
 smoldering on the hearth, and the old Fraulein 
 was nodding beside it in a high-backed chair. 
 The shadows on the wall danced furtively into 
 darkened corners, up to the nose of an old 
 Rabenhorst of the fifteenth century, and 
 glanced from his armor to the polished floor. 
 
 Elsa sat by the window, spinning; her 
 profile stood out like a cameo against the 
 dark green draperies, and her carved chair, with
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 39 
 
 the Rabenhorst arms cut deep into the oak, 
 made a picturesque background for the slen 
 der figure in its black dress and puffed 
 sleeves. 
 
 The mahogany spinning-wheel, which had 
 belonged to her great-grandmother, whirred on 
 as cheerfully as though a century had not 
 passed away, and Elsa spun her fancies into 
 the shuttle fancies that came from over the 
 sea as in her childhood days. 
 
 " Oh ! " cried the old Fraulein, rousing her 
 self with a .start. " If I didn t fall asleep ! 
 Where is my knitting ? Ach ! my child, I 
 must indeed be growing old, since I fall asleep 
 so easily." 
 
 This remark called for no comment from* 
 Elsa, as she had heard it constantly for the 
 past five years. 
 
 The old lady adjusted her cap, which had 
 fallen to one side, smoothed her kerchief, 
 and resumed her knitting. Faster flew the 
 needles, sharper was the click, to make up for 
 the time lost in napping. 
 
 " Fritz tells me that the Strahls have come 
 back."
 
 40 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 "The Strahls," echoed Elsa in surprise, lift 
 ing her head quickly. 
 
 " Yes, after three years," replied the old lady. 
 She was glad to find a new person to whom 
 she might retail the news, as gossip was rare in 
 that quiet land. Elsa was silent. 
 
 " How are they? " she said at last. 
 
 " Better, much better. They will stay two 
 months at home." 
 
 " Perhaps they will come to my fete to-mor 
 row. Tante, how changed they must be. Three 
 years! I am so glad they have comeback." 
 
 The wheel went whirring on. 
 
 " Three years," murmured the old dame, 
 "are nothing. Time passes so quickly." 
 * "Three years," murmured Elsa, with a sigh, 
 " seem an eternity. " 
 
 "Victor was Otto s age, was he not?" 
 
 " No, you are thinking of Carl. He died, 
 you know," answered Elsa, in a low voice. 
 
 "True, Victor is nineteen, quite a man." 
 Then silence fell between them, and Elsa s 
 thoughts went back to a delicate youth, with 
 brown eyes, who had played the violin with 
 her one day, three years before. She had often
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 41 
 
 thought of the tones of that violin. They had 
 played Gounod s " Ave Maria". He had since 
 been out in the world, and had probably 
 forgotten her. 
 
 Her reverie was broken by the servant s 
 voice at her side. 
 
 " Gracious Fraulein, old Hans has come again 
 to say that Stina was taken bad, and calls for 
 the gracious Fraulein. He begs pardon, humbly, 
 and asks to speak with the gracious Fraulein 
 himself." 
 
 " Tell him to wait below." 
 
 The servant bowed and disappeared between 
 the portieres, and Elsa put aside the wheel. 
 Stina was a favorite maid of her mother, who, 
 after the death of her mistress, had gone to 
 America to seek her fortune. She failed in 
 her quest and came back to her friends, ill with 
 consumption, and lay dying in her brother s 
 cottage beyond the village. 
 
 Elsa had visited her constantly during the 
 last weeks, thinking that each day would bring 
 her relief from her sufferings. 
 
 " Hans has been here before to-day," said 
 Fraulein von Klein.
 
 42 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE, 
 
 "Why was I not told?" 
 
 " Because you fret yourself so about her," 
 she answered evasively. 
 
 " Better that I should fret than she, Tante," 
 exclaimed Elsa moving toward the door lead 
 ing to her room. In a few moments she 
 returned wrapped in a long black mantle that 
 fell in graceful folds to her feet. 
 
 "You are not going out at this time of 
 night ! " cried the old lady in alarm. 
 
 " Yes, it may be the last time for her. Don t 
 worry, aunt, Hans will take care of me." And 
 before Fraiilein von Klein could protest further 
 Elsa had disappeared.
 
 III. 
 
 LSA S fete day was fair ; the sky cloudless, 
 and the air laden with the sweet smell of 
 new mown hay. 
 
 The salon was banked with flowers by the 
 skillful hand of the gardener. A large table 
 laden with gifts and decorated with garlands 
 stood opposite a window overlooking the gar 
 den and facing the sea. On a balcony outside, 
 and visible through the half-parted portieres, a 
 group of girls was sitting absorbed in an ani 
 mated discussion on a most interesting topic, 
 the engagement of one of the number. Some 
 of the girls were embroidering, others were 
 listening with rapt attention to the account 
 given by the young fiancee of her betrothed. 
 
 " How did you know that he loved you ? " 
 asked Matilda von Waldbeck, a demure little 
 maid of sixteen. 
 
 41 That was easily understood," replied Lita
 
 44 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 von Konigsmark, not at all unwilling to satisfy 
 her friend s curiosity. "At the court ball I 
 was standing in the Ancestors Hall ready to 
 go into the ball room. He came up and said 
 Good evening and put his name down on my 
 card for three dances. Of course that was 
 serious." 
 
 " Of course," echoed the group. 
 
 " Then later he gave me a lozenge with I love 
 you written on it." 
 
 " And that was decisive," added Donna 
 somewhat sarcastically. 
 
 " How romantic ! " murmured Matilda. She 
 had not yet been confirmed, and her prospec 
 tive romance seemed far distant. 
 
 " How material !" said Donna. " Lita, I am 
 afraid that he is a gourmet, since he chose this 
 method of communicating his love." 
 
 "You are always mocking, Donna," answered 
 the fiancee, twirling her engagement ring with a 
 satisfied smile. "Your time will come." 
 
 It was very agreeable to be the center of 
 attraction, for Lita von Konigsmark had never 
 been much noticed until this extraordinary 
 event had raised her to prominence.
 
 THE MA GIC OF A VOICE. 45 
 
 " Men are not in my line, especially society 
 men," replied Donna, as she cut at a vine leaf 
 with her riding whip. 
 
 "Oh! Don t interrupt Lita, let her finish," 
 exclaimed Matilda eagerly. " You have heard 
 all about it before." 
 
 "Scores of times," answered Donna. 
 
 "That is all," said Lita in a practical tone. 
 
 " All ! " cried the girls in disappointment. 
 
 " Of course he went to papa and settled the 
 matter satisfactorily." 
 
 "Quite satisfactorily, since Lita gets the 
 estates and he is rich, of good family, and there 
 is nothing lacking except " 
 
 "Except what?" questioned Lita com 
 posedly. 
 
 Donna looked at her a moment in silence. 
 
 "You are satisfied. I am not going to marry 
 him and I won t enlighten you." 
 
 " It must be delightful to be in love," ob 
 served Matilda reflectively. She looked like a 
 Madonna with her flaxen hair smoothed back 
 and gathered into a tight knot behind her 
 head. 
 
 " Mamma says that love comes after mar-
 
 46 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 riage, and that it is unmaidenly to think of men 
 before," remarked her sister, Johanna von Wald- 
 beck who was three years older and wore her 
 hair in the same severe style. She was sitting 
 bolt upright, embroidering a chair cushion of 
 medieval design. 
 
 "Mamma would not like to hear such a sen 
 timent from you. Sit up, Matilda." Matilda 
 thus admonished drew herself up and went 
 on with her work. It was the companion piece 
 to Johanna s medieval cushion. 
 
 " But I mean it, Johanna ; it must be delight 
 ful to love some one and have him all to your 
 self." 
 
 There was a degree of fervor in Matilda s 
 tone that shocked Johanna. 
 
 " Matilda ! " she exclaimed in amazement, 
 " and you have not been confirmed yet ! " 
 
 " Nor have I been to the court balls," con 
 tinued the culprit audaciously, "nor do I know 
 any thing about it, but I have my ideas." 
 
 " Let s hear Matilda s ideas," said Donna. 
 
 " First, he must be handsome, fair I think, 
 with a mustache, I don t think I should like a 
 beard rich, of course, and " she paused.
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 47 
 
 " Noble," added Johanna, interested in spite 
 of herself in this forbidden topic. 
 
 " Well, I don t know," said Matilda slowly, 
 " I never thought but that he would be noble, 
 but if I loved him very much and he was very 
 good, I might waive that point, especially if he 
 were an officer, for then he could go to court, 
 and so could I, in my own right." 
 
 "Horrible!" ejaculated the prim Johanna, 
 dropping her work, aghast at such opinions. 
 " I shall tell mamma what you say." 
 
 At this threat little Matilda changed color. 
 
 " I never thought but that he would be 
 noble," she argued deprecatingly. 
 
 " Let Matilda alone," exclaimed Donna 
 suddenly. She took Matilda under her pro 
 tection at times. "And if you add that he 
 must be a man and have brains, I don t see 
 why your puppet will not do very well." 
 
 Johanna pursed up her lips in silence, and 
 resumed her work. 
 
 "Where can Elsa be?" said Donna. " It is 
 getting late, and I must go home." 
 
 " Elsa was called to see old Hans beyond 
 the village. Stina died last night and the
 
 48 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE, 
 
 others are going to America in a day or two. 
 His wife is heart-broken at Stina s death." 
 
 This explanation was given by Anna von 
 Kb nigsmark, who had been with Elsa when 
 the humble message of old Hans had been 
 delivered. 
 
 " That is like Elsa," said Johanna. " Gone off 
 to answer some peasant s call, when we have 
 come to her fete. Mamma says that the peo 
 ple should learn to repress their feelings." 
 
 " But they can not help feeling," rejoined 
 Matilda. " They are human." 
 
 " True, little one," said Donna, laying her 
 hand caressingly on her smooth braids. 
 
 " Do stay," pleaded Matilda. 
 
 " In my habit ? I can not." 
 
 " Papa will be angry," observed Lita. " I 
 suppose you are alone as usual, and he can not 
 bear to have you ride Selim." 
 
 " I shall get home long before he does. Ah ! 
 here comes Elsa." 
 
 A tall, slender figure appeared in the walk 
 below. The paleness of her face was intensified 
 by the black dress, and the breeze blew her hair 
 in little rings about her brow.
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 49 
 
 She looked up and nodded. Her face 
 lighted with a smile, as she caught sight of 
 Donna, and she disappeared quickly in the 
 entrance below to join them a moment later on 
 the balcony. 
 
 " Here you are at last," exclaimed Donna, 
 rising from her low seat by the railing. " I have 
 been waiting half an hour. I only ran over to 
 congratulate you and wish you many happy 
 returns. Meanwhile the subject of matrimony 
 has been discussed in your absence." 
 
 " Donna and Matilda prefer burghers," vol 
 unteered Johanna with a sneer. " I hope that 
 you do not agree with them." 
 
 " Don t misrepresent," said Donna, looking 
 over her shoulder at the speaker. 
 
 " Donna did not sa y that," observed Matilda. 
 
 "And if I did, what then?" 
 
 A change passed over Elsa s face, and she 
 said coldly : 
 
 "A man is not a gentleman, unless he is 
 noble." 
 
 Donna laughed. 
 
 " Noble sentiment, that. Perhaps you are 
 right. That is what we are educated to
 
 50 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 believe ; perhaps I should say that no one is 
 regarded as an eligible match for one of our 
 noble selves but a nobleman. But come, show 
 me your table, Elsa. I have a trifle to add to 
 your treasures. Excuse us a moment, girls, 
 and then I must fly." Hardly waiting for 
 their assent she drew Elsa into the salon and 
 dropped the portieres behind them. 
 
 " Let me look at you, my lily ! " she cried, 
 clasping Elsa in her arms, " and wish you all 
 the happiness in the world. You don t wonder 
 at my not spending to-day with you ? I will 
 come to-morrow afternoon and stay to tea when 
 you are alone. I can t bear their chatter." 
 She pointed with her whip toward the window. 
 " And I want you all to myself." 
 
 Elsa pressed her hand as she placed her gift 
 on the table. It was a black velvet prayer- 
 book, with a chalice and cross embroidered in 
 gold on the covers. 
 
 " I worked it myself, and it gave me many 
 pricks in the making. You know I am not an 
 expert at handiwork, but it is so easy to buy 
 things. There is no one that I would work for 
 but you."
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 5 1 
 
 "And I shall value it all the more," returned 
 Elsa, as she carefully examined the book. 
 " Indeed it is beautifully done." 
 
 " There is my horse coming from the stable 
 and the ladies from the garden. Let me run 
 before Frau von Waldbeck gets sight of me. 
 I am not in the mood for her ladyship s 
 raillery. Good-by, dear heart." 
 
 She swept her habit over her arm, bade a 
 hasty adieu to the girls outside, and kissed Elsa 
 lightly on the cheek. Then the clatter of 
 Selim s hoofs sounded in the court-yard, out 
 into the village, and was lost in the distance. 
 
 As Donna galloped out of the gate, a group 
 of ladies appeared from the garden. 
 
 " Donna Konigsmark, as I live," exclaimed 
 Frau von Waldbeck, with a nod of disapproval. 
 " How her parents can allow her to fly around 
 the country like any peasant girl, I can t 
 understand. It is bold and unladylike. I 
 intend to break up her intimacy with my 
 daughters. If my Johanna should develop 
 such tendencies I would shut her up on bread 
 and water." 
 
 The likeness between Johanna and her
 
 52 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 mother was unmistakable. Frau von Waldbeck 
 was a tall, erect woman, of fine carriage. Her 
 forehead was prominent almost to severity, and 
 it was evident that her daughters were dressed 
 after her own pattern. Her family feared her, 
 the world found her intolerable, and yet she 
 held every one in subjection by her domineering 
 spirit. 
 
 " It is quite dreadful," answered Fraulein von 
 Klein, who was walking with her. 
 
 " I am surprised that you permit Donna s 
 intimacy with Elsa," continued Frau von Wald 
 beck, in a low voice, fearing that Donna s 
 mother, who was walking behind with the gen 
 eral, might overhear her remarks. 
 
 They entered the lower hall, and were joined 
 by two gentlemen. 
 
 " Excuse us," said one, " we are late, but we 
 had good luck." 
 
 " That is fine," remarked the general. 
 "Ladies, we will join you directly." 
 
 The three gentlemen turned into the gen 
 eral s smoking-room on the ground floor, while 
 the ladies ascended the staircase to the salon. 
 The girls had come in from the balcony and
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE, 53 
 
 were seated by the fire, but they rose and 
 remained standing when the ladies appeared. 
 Johanna and Matilda advanced towards Frau 
 von Konigsmark, who had been in the garden 
 when they arrived, and courtesied. 
 
 " Kiss the hand, Matilda," commanded Frau 
 von Waldbeck, sharply. She obeyed, and with 
 a forced smile, withdrew to the other side of the 
 room to join the other girls. 
 
 " That child gives me so much trouble," 
 remarked her mother in alow tone to Frau von 
 Konigsmark. " She hasn t the grace of your 
 Donna. There is a spirit of insubordination 
 about her that I find difficult to subdue." 
 
 " I never could do any thing with my chil 
 dren," observed Donna s mother complacently. 
 " I never tried. They are badly managed, but 
 I can t help it. It is much better not to 
 worry " 
 
 At this moment the gentlemen joined them, 
 and supper was announced. 
 
 The general sat at the head of the table, 
 while Elsa made tea behind a great silver urn 
 at the foot. There were plates of sandwiches 
 of various kinds, thin pieces of black bread
 
 54 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 with bits of sausage, boiled eggs, cheese or sar 
 dines laid on them. Beer and wine were served 
 to the gentlemen. 
 
 Rothe Griitze, of a rich red color, as implied 
 by its name, was served in soup plates and 
 eaten with sugar and cream. Krammets vogel 
 delicious little birds roasted were brought 
 on hot. 
 
 " Krammets vogel, at this season of the year ! 
 This is indeed a treat ! " exclaimed Herr von 
 Konigsmark, as he helped himself bountifully. 
 
 " I shall be sorry when the Krammets vogel 
 time begins," said Elsa behind her urn. " It is 
 cruel to trap them so." 
 
 " Nonsense ! returned the general, laughing. 
 " You eat them with relish." 
 
 " I understand that they are trying to pass a 
 law forbidding the wholesale slaughter of these 
 birds. They are dying out," remarked Herr von 
 Konigsmark. 
 
 "Think of enticing the poor little things to 
 their death with bright red berries. I hope 
 they will pass the law," cried Elsa vehemently. 
 
 " I hear that the Strahls are back again," ob 
 served Herr von Waldbeck. " But only for a
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 55 
 
 short time. The children go back to Italy in 
 the autumn." 
 
 " Why don t they stay here ? " exclaimed Herr 
 von Konigsmark, emptying his glass of beer at 
 a draught. " What they need is bracing air. 
 I, myself, should get consumption in those 
 southern climates. All nonsense, women s 
 whims." 
 
 " Now you can not say that I have whims," 
 observed his wife, smiling amiably. " I have 
 always been robust." 
 
 " I should like to see you have them," laugh 
 ingly ejaculated the broad shouldered master. 
 "They would be settled in short order." 
 
 "I suppose we shall see the Strahls in church 
 to-morrow," whispered Matilda under her 
 breath to Elsa. " Won t it be nice? " 
 
 " There is no reason why we should not hear 
 your voice, Matilda^ if you have any thing to 
 say worth hearing." 
 
 " No, mamma." 
 
 Johanna, conscious of the mother s approval, 
 sat painfully erect. She was her mother s 
 favorite and echo. 
 
 They rose from the table with the customary
 
 56 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 salutation of " gesegnete mahlzeit !" and went up 
 to the salon. The fire was burning brightly on 
 the hearth. Conversation became general, the 
 men talking of the hunt, the ladies of each other 
 and of their common interests. Lita was stand 
 ing by a table a little apart looking at some pho 
 tographs. Herr von Waldbeck approached her. 
 
 " So you are really happy ? " he asked in a low 
 tone. 
 
 "Yes," she replied. 
 
 "Always be amiable, my child. With ami 
 ability one can do any thing with a man. Any 
 thing ! " he repeated and sighed. " Yes, those 
 are good pictures of Venice. I was there once, 
 years ago," he added in a low tone. His wife 
 was looking at him. 
 
 " Leo, order the carriage. It is ten o clock." 
 
 " Certainly, my dear," he replied in the tone 
 of a man whose spirit had long since been 
 broken. 
 
 The Waldbeck and Kbnigsmark carriages 
 were announced at the same time, and the ladies 
 went into Elsa sroomto put on their wraps. As 
 they came out Lita stopped beside the spinning 
 wheel and idly turned it.
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 57 
 
 " Is it true," she asked, " that you spun enough 
 last winter to make a table cloth ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," replied Elsa. 
 
 " It is getting to be quite the fashion now-a- 
 days. I have an old wheel in the garret that 
 belonged to my grandmother. I think I shall 
 get it down for Lita," said her mother. 
 
 " It spoils the hands," objected Frau von 
 Waldbeck, gazing admiringly at her own 
 shapely hands. 
 
 " It has not spoiled Elsa s hands," said Ma 
 tilda. Her mother looked at her reprovingly. 
 
 " How do you find time ? " asked Lita. 
 
 " You forget the long winter evenings here. I 
 live so far from you all and see you so seldom. 
 Spinning occupies the fingers and leaves the 
 thoughts free." 
 
 " Too much thinking is not good for young 
 girls," observed Frau von Waldbeck senten- 
 tiously. 
 
 " Oh, Elsa does not think much," said the 
 old Stifts dame with emphasis. 
 
 They all laughed at this speech, and went 
 down-stairs to the portico, where the carriages 
 were waiting. The general kissed the ladies
 
 5 8 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 hands courteously, and assisted them into their 
 carriages. The horses trotted over the pave 
 ment and disappeared through the gate. 
 
 The general and Fraulein von Klein went into 
 the house, but Elsa lingered, looking after the 
 departed guests. 
 
 "Come, my child." The words roused her. 
 " Now I think I ll smoke a pipe and go to bed," 
 added the old man, smothering a yawn. 
 
 " Yes, papa," answered Elsa absently. She 
 took a candle from the table and waited to 
 receive the paternal kiss upon her brow. 
 
 "Good-night, papa." 
 
 " God bless you, my child." 
 
 As she ascended the staircase her steps echoed 
 through the bare hall, and she went through 
 the salon, where the fire was burning low, to 
 her bedroom beyond. 
 
 There, seated on a broad window-sill, she 
 looked out at the sea and listened to its monot 
 onous beating against the shore. She was lost 
 in dreaming of some one who might come to 
 her from over the sea a lover who should be 
 a prodigy of strength, wisdom, goodness and 
 beauty. Her ideal was formed from tales of
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 59 
 
 gallant knights and impossible men of romance, 
 for in the restricted formal intercourse allowed 
 in their circle, rigid in its forms of etiquette, 
 she had as yet never seen a man who could 
 touch her imagination or fancy.
 
 IV. 
 
 GENERAL VON RABENHORST, though 
 not an irreligious man, rarely showed him 
 self in the village church. He disliked the 
 confinement of a long service. Twice a year, 
 at Easter and at Christmas, he went, as an ex 
 ample to his people, but the rest of the year he 
 was quite satisfied to be represented by his 
 daughter and her companion. 
 
 The day after Elsa s fete was Sunday. Elsa 
 came down ready for church and found Frau- 
 lein von Klein waiting, prayer-book in hand. 
 She was attired in an ancient pelisse that had 
 done duty and been laid away some twenty 
 years before, but recently she had renovated it 
 to suit the new style. Her simple black 
 bonnet set off the bands of silver hair and the 
 complacent old face. Old Karl, the gardener, 
 came forward with a large paper box in his 
 hands, and doffed his cap as he lifted the cover.
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 61 
 
 A beautiful cross of white roses lay within, and 
 he waited for a word of approbation from his 
 young mistress. She looked at the cross silently, 
 and then turning to the expectant old man said 
 softly, " It could not have been better, Karl." 
 
 A smile lighted his hardy face as he rever 
 ently replaced the cover and laid the box under 
 the seat. 
 
 They drove through the sweet June morning 
 each wrapped in her own thoughts. Fraulein 
 von Klein was occupied with very practical mat 
 ters, and Elsa with that not far distant past when 
 Otto shared her life ; memories evoked by the 
 cross woven to decorate his grave. Her eyes 
 scanned the fields of waving wheat, brilliant 
 with corn flowers that sprang up in wild profu 
 sion, bare and brown eight months before when 
 Wildfeuer had taken the leap to meet his 
 death. She closed her eyes and shuddered. 
 Time had not yet healed the wound made by 
 death nor blunted the sharpness of memory. 
 
 The carriage drove rapidly over the dusty road, 
 covering the peasant who plodded in its wake 
 with clouds of sand. There would be a goodly 
 attendance at church to-day, for Pastor Mu ller
 
 62 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 had gone to visit distant relatives and would 
 be replaced by a more stirring and eloquent 
 brother who, it was to be hoped, would overcome 
 the somnolent tendencies of certain prominent 
 members of the congregation. Elsa was not 
 drawn thither by anticipations of brilliant 
 preaching. She went more from habit, because 
 it broke the monotony of her week at home, 
 than from any sense of religious need. There 
 was nothing awe-inspiring in her pastor, and she 
 knew by experience that his brethren were like 
 him with slight difference of methods. 
 
 Many words of well deserved reproof might 
 be directed at those seated in the high seats, but 
 the average pastor had not the moral courage 
 to utter them. Indeed, such presumption 
 would cost him his living and rob his children 
 even of the pittance he earned by moderation. 
 His wife kissed my lady s hand when she with 
 the doctor s wife was summoned to afternoon 
 coffee at the castle, and they were both received 
 with the condescension which marked the great 
 gulf dividing the castle and the parsonage. 
 
 The Mecklenburger went to church as an 
 example to his people and a duty to his Maker.
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE V 63 
 
 The sins of his commission concerned not the 
 preacher. He himself stood much nearer to 
 God than his priest, and accepted no dictation 
 from his inferior. He wished no words of scath 
 ing rebuke to disturb his gentle slumber behind 
 the curtains of his pew, for this napping was a 
 privilege peculiarly his own which he exercised 
 freely. So Pastor Mu ller took refuge in gener 
 alities and preached at the stolid peasant seated 
 below and staring agape at him in the pulpit. 
 He exhorted obedience to divine command in 
 the language of the old school, and painted 
 vivid and fiery punishment for delinquents. 
 His God was full of wrath and vengeance to 
 inspire only fear. It required strong metaphor 
 to quicken the imagination of the stolid people 
 listening to him. His sermons, taken often 
 from old text books written a century before, 
 might have been words of fire in the mouth of 
 eloquence, but in Pastor Miiller s delivery the 
 roaring of the lion became as the bleating of 
 the lamb. 
 
 There had been a time when Elsa had listened 
 to his exhortations with breathless attention, 
 when the stereotyped phrases falling from his
 
 64 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 lips had sunk deep into her heart and gained 
 life through her interpretation. The man who 
 had taken vows to follow God and lead his peo 
 ple to repentance and truth, had seemed noble, 
 strong, and a fit guide for one as erring and fee 
 ble as she. She had glowed with enthusiasm 
 and pored over tales of the crusades and early 
 martyrs. Those glorious days of self-sacrifice ! 
 When the time drew near for her first com 
 munion she came to Pastor Mu ller for instruc 
 tion, and he answered her fervent queries by 
 platitudes ; her enthusiasm was chilled by his 
 indifference and incapacity of comprehension. 
 He was not the man to cope with her nature, 
 and was confused by it. She quickly measured 
 his shallowness, and for a time the church stifled 
 her. It was too narrow for her aspirations. 
 Prayer was too deep for utterance. Words 
 trammeled her and brought her down to earth. 
 She panted with a great desire to serve God, who 
 had sacrificed Himself for the good of the world. 
 " What shall I do, oh God, to be worthy ! " 
 she cried aloud to the raging elements, but the 
 winds echoed back her passionate cry unan 
 swered. She sought consolation in stormy
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 65 
 
 music, that relieved her heart of its burden. She 
 stood on a mountain height and looked down 
 into the still valley. Silence reigned. A calm 
 stole over her. She was in the boundless pres 
 ence of God, and felt his omnipotence, and her 
 soul could soar unfettered on the wings of 
 prayer to heaven. All of nature s boundless 
 realm was not too wide a church for her. 
 
 Two years had passed since then. Two 
 stormy years, but now the church walls no 
 longer shut her in. She took pleasure in the 
 simple devotion of the people in the body 
 of the church. Their voices, though not always 
 true, were lifted in earnest praise, and they wor 
 shiped according to their light. The days of 
 heroism were past. 
 
 Donna had helped her to this. Donna, who 
 had known the world, and though harsh and 
 sarcastic to others, had never tired of her ques 
 tioning. Donna, who had taught her rebellious 
 heart to suffer and be strong. She thought of 
 all these things as she drove through the wheat 
 fields into the little hamlet that surrounded the 
 church. 
 
 The bell was tolling its last tones as they
 
 66 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 passed through the turnstile and walked up the 
 narrow path to the side door. It was an old 
 church, built some centuries back, severe in its 
 simple architecture. After entering the low 
 door, they turned to the left and ascended a 
 small wooden staircase. The footman who had 
 preceded them unlocked a door in the wall at 
 the top of the staircase and stepped back so 
 that they might pass into the pew. 
 
 The pew was in the chancel at the right of 
 the altar and on a level with the gallery. It 
 was inclosed with glass sliding windows, which 
 were hung with green silk curtains. A row of 
 Gothic chairs with old-fashioned embroidered 
 covers stood against the wall, and in front of 
 each chair was placed a foot-stool similarly em 
 broidered. The pew commanded a view of the 
 church and the side window overlooked the 
 pulpit. Indeed, the general, by stretching out 
 his hand, might check his spiritual guide at any 
 unpleasant point of his sermon. 
 
 The church had been recently restored, its 
 dingy walls whitewashed, and the pews in the 
 body of the church replaced by new and com 
 fortable seats of natural wood. The arch above
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 67 
 
 the altar was surmounted by stiff, quaint wooden 
 figures representing Mary weeping at the feet 
 of the crucified Saviour. She pressed a wooden 
 handkerchief of a somewhat dingy hue to her 
 scarce visible eyes, and gazed aimlessly at some 
 angels on the other side of the crucifix. These 
 figures had been left by the renovator as relics 
 of a past century, as were the white cherub 
 heads with golden wings that encircled the 
 pulpit. The altar was covered with a magnifi 
 cent black cloth, embroidered thickly with de 
 vices in gold, a gift from Frau von Waldbeck at 
 the time of Johanna s first communion. The 
 four pews of the neighboring families were in 
 the chancel facing the altar, two on each side, 
 one above the other. Each was painted with 
 the family arms on the front panel. Opposite 
 the Rabenhorsts on the upper tier was the great 
 pew representing the grand duke s estates, gen 
 erally empty, as the inspector in charge rarely 
 attended the village church. Below it was the 
 Strahl pew, and opposite this and underneath 
 the Rabenhorsts that occupied by the Konigs- 
 marks. 
 
 As Elsa stepped forward and drew back the
 
 68 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 curtains she saw that the services had already 
 begun, for the people were standing and the 
 pastor s droning voice reached her ear indis 
 tinctly. It was even less musical than the nasal 
 tone of Pastor Miiller. Fraulein von Klein 
 stretched her neck eagerly to look at the new 
 comer, and then settled herself comfortably in 
 one of the Gothic chairs. Elsa seyes wandered 
 over the heads of the congregation. There were 
 the different inspectors in the front seats, 
 behind them the upper house servants, 
 and last the field laborers with their heads 
 streaked by the sun and their tanned faces 
 turned toward the pastor with the same dull 
 expression they had worn every Sunday since 
 she could remember. They were just begin 
 ning a hymn, " Eine feste Burg ist unser Gott". 
 It rang out with a good will ; the boy 
 pumped the organ energetically, and a strong 
 chorus resounded through the bare structure, 
 making the rafters ring. The sun straggled in 
 through the Gothic windows and danced in 
 the dark corner of the Rabenhorst pew. As 
 Elsa drew the curtain to shut out the glare, the 
 Strahl pew was brought into view. They were
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 69 
 
 all there. All that were left, alas, for the 
 family had dwindled sadly in recent years. 
 Frau von Althaus, a fine looking woman of 
 forty, with dark hair. The two girls, Sophie 
 and Berthe, with their hair cut short in the 
 new English fashion. Victor, of whom she had 
 thought with a touch of tender reminiscence. 
 He was unchanged except for a light brown 
 mustache, a ruddier glow in his thin cheeks, 
 and a more erect carriage. That was all. 
 
 No ! who is that dark man, with close cut 
 hair curling crisply around his open brow, his 
 head held high and free, with an eye like a 
 falcon, and a glance keen and level as though 
 he might conquer the world ? He is a stranger 
 and he might be a prince, he holds himself so 
 proudly, like her hero Siegfried or some Vi 
 king of old. She looks at him in silence and 
 forgets to sing. He seems the personification 
 of all her heroes in one. A feeling of awe 
 steals over her, a conviction that this man is of 
 a sublimer, grander mold than any who has 
 yet crossed her path. His perfect Greek face 
 is the ideal of beauty, and must reflect the 
 graces of mind and character fitted to her
 
 70 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 heroes. The color slowly steals into her cheek, 
 robbing it of its customary paleness; her eyes 
 darken and glow beneath the half closed lids ; 
 her heart is in a tumult. 
 
 And this stranger sees a tall maiden with won 
 derful delicacy of form and feature ; the sunlight 
 plays in her waving hair, lighting it with gold ; 
 the curve of the disdainful mouth, the droop of 
 the proud white lids, the poise of the figure, 
 all bespeak the aristocrat, and Leopold 
 Uhlheim measures her coldly as one of a 
 class most antagonistic to him. 
 
 " Eine feste Burg ist unser Gott," shout 
 the peasants again, and Elsa is recalled to 
 herself by the overwhelming force of the 
 sound. 
 
 Church had been dismissed. The congrega 
 tion streamed out in silence. There had been 
 some handshaking at the door and exchange 
 of whispered words between the young people, 
 as loud speaking within the church walls was a 
 breach of etiquette most severely punished by 
 the heads. Lita von Konigsmark made signs 
 to attract Elsa s attention, but she did not 
 seem to understand. The Strahls were waiting
 
 THE At AGIO OF A VOICE. 71 
 
 at the gate while the stranger walked on with 
 Frau von Althaus. 
 
 "You will come to us day after to-morrow, 
 Elsa?" said Berthe Strahl, after the first greet 
 ing was over. " We could not come to your 
 fete. I was so sorry, but we shall make up 
 for lost time, as we shall stay here all summer." 
 
 " Short enough," remarked Victor, who had 
 joined them and shaken hands with Elsa after 
 the English fashion. " Even that is grudged 
 us by old Schultz, who says the climate is too 
 severe." 
 
 " How could our lovely native air hurt any 
 one ? " returned Elsa, gayly. " You look well." 
 
 " You have cut your hair ! " exclaimed 
 Johanna. " How did you have the courage?" 
 
 " It is very chic. Mamma won t let me cut 
 mine nor wear a bang," said Matilda, with a 
 comical sigh. " I should love to wear a 
 bang." 
 
 " Don t, they are horrid. You look much 
 better as you are, Matilda," rejoined Victor, 
 gallantly. 
 
 " What talk is this for Sunday ? " The stern 
 voice scattered the group. " You should have
 
 72 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 more serious thoughts on coming out of church, 
 my children." 
 
 "Yes, mamma," answered Johanna, casting 
 down her eyes demurely. 
 
 " Yes, mamma," echoed Matilda, gazing up 
 appealingly at her mother s cold face. 
 
 The various carriages had driven up. They 
 lingered no longer, but separated with hurried 
 partings. The Strahls reminded Elsa of her 
 promised visit, and then got into the high 
 beach wagon waiting for them, while the 
 stranger stood beside the open door and talked 
 to their aunt inside. She nodded to Elsa from 
 the distance, and the gentlemen lifted their 
 hats as they drove away. 
 
 " I did not learn who he was," said Fraulein 
 von Klein, "though I inquired. It is the first 
 time he has appeared with them, and Frau von 
 Althaus is very reticent. Frau von Konigsmark 
 seemed to think that he was Herr von Mecklin, 
 Victor s new guardian, but as I remember the 
 old baron, who must be this one s father, there 
 is little resemblance between them. He was 
 small, slight and insignificant. Then, du liebcr 
 Gott ! the Frau von Konigsmark is always
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 73 
 
 wrong in her theories, and a great gossip. 
 Why, what she had to say about the poor 
 princess s illness the other day was positively 
 scandalous. Elsa, I say, you are not listening 
 to one word I have been saying." 
 
 " You said something was scandalous, Tante, 
 and I am very sorry, for scandal is a pest." 
 
 " You take one s breath away with your 
 extravagant expressions. That comes from 
 associating with Donna who, as Frau von 
 Waldbeck says " 
 
 " Don t, Tante ! " interrupted Elsa, plead 
 ingly. 
 
 " Well, I am sure I never talk scandal." 
 
 " Hush, here we are ! " 
 
 They stopped before a high iron gate which 
 barred the entrance to the cemetery. Elsa got 
 out of the carriage and took the cross in her 
 hand. As she passed in alone up the gravel 
 walk the birds were caroling joyously, and the 
 air was filled with the fragrance of flowers. At 
 the head of the avenue an iron railing shut in a 
 grassy inclosure, in the midst of which stood a 
 great granite rock with the Rabenhorst arms 
 roughly hewn in bold relief upon it. It was a
 
 74 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 curious idea of the former owner, for the 
 cemetery was new and in it were buried those 
 only of the present generation. The others lay 
 under the stones of the church or in the old 
 graveyard surrounding it. She placed the 
 cross against the white headstone of her 
 brother s grave, picked a few roses from a bush 
 in full bloom, and leaned against the willow that 
 shaded it. How still and peaceful it seemed! 
 She had often envied him the calmness of his 
 repose. To-day her heart did not droop with 
 sadness, it beat with renewed life. Why was 
 this change ? Why was her life brighter? For 
 the first time since Otto died, the singing of 
 the birds awoke an echo in her heart and the 
 sweet air of heaven stirred her soul.
 
 V. 
 
 QCHLOSS KARTLOW was built thirty-five 
 O years ago, after a style very different from 
 its neighbors, in brick with stucco facing. It 
 was an imposing structure as seen from the 
 highway half a mile away, set in a background 
 of dark foliage with the blue and white flag 
 flying boldly from its highest tower. The old 
 castle had been destroyed by fire years before, 
 and its ruins were still shown to curious visit 
 ors. The approach was through a long avenue 
 of poplars, which narrowed into a village street 
 just before sweeping round the circle in front 
 of the house. On one side of this street was a 
 row of neat brick cottages with slightly slop 
 ing tile roofs. Geraniums stood in the small- 
 paned windows, and children with streaked 
 blonde heads were wont to peer curiously out 
 at the passer by. 
 
 These houses were occupied by the head 
 gardener, coachman and butler of the estab-
 
 7<5 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 lishment. Opposite were buildings of an 
 earlier date with whitewashed walls and low 
 thatched roofs, moss-grown with age. 
 
 Through the wide door, which was gen 
 erally swung back from one of these cabins, 
 the fire-place might be seen piled with burning 
 peat. A kettle hung over it on a hook, and 
 the smoke curled up on the ledge and found 
 its way out through the peaked roof smoking, 
 in its passage, hams and bacon in the rafters. 
 An old dame sat in the inner room by the win 
 dow behind a bed, piled high with feather com 
 forters, and stitched on her good man s Sunday 
 coat. She rocked a cradle with her foot and 
 crooned a quaint melody to the sleeping child. 
 
 Against the wall stood two chests with brass 
 handles, which contained the dower of linen 
 that she had brought her husband half a cen 
 tury ago. An old fashioned clock ticked the 
 hours as it had for generations gone by. Fur 
 ther up the street, just below the cabins, 
 was the dairy, a neat brick building in the 
 same style as the cottages. Before it stood a 
 horse pensively switching away the flies. He 
 was harnessed to a long pole supported on
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 77 
 
 wheels, from either side of which depended a 
 dozen empty milk buckets. The maids were 
 straying toward the inclosure, where the cows 
 lowed impatient at their delay. A troop of 
 girls was coming from the hay fields with 
 rakes over their shoulders, white straw bonnets 
 trimmed with red upon their heads, and their 
 skirts tucked up to show a good stretch of 
 white stocking, and an ungainly wooden shoe. 
 Behind them walked a shepherd followed by 
 his flock of bleating sheep, huddled close 
 together and driven by the vigilant sheep-dog 
 behind. Every thing was moving toward 
 home as the hour of rest drew near. Just 
 before reaching the castle they turned into 
 a lane toward the great thatched outhouses 
 which were shut out of sight by a high 
 hedge. 
 
 The sun was shining aslant on the red tower 
 of Kartlow, and lighted the dial of the clock. 
 It lacked five minutes to six. The windows 
 were open, but there was no one to be seen. 
 The hall door was ajar. A green vine ran up 
 either side of the porch and met overhead, twin 
 ing around the arms of Strahl and Althaus,
 
 78 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 which were cut deep in the stone shield over 
 the entrance. 
 
 The floor of the hall was of black and white 
 marble. Three doors opened from it, the right 
 leading to the dining-room, the left to the 
 staircase, and the one in front to the red 
 room overlooking the park. The dining-room 
 was wainscoted in oak, the furniture was of 
 oak, elaborately carved, and above the side 
 board on the wall the family arms were painted 
 in brilliant colors. The walls were hung with 
 family portraits. Here was one lady in a blue 
 satin Watteau dress, with powdered hair, who, 
 tradition said, was wont to wash her fair face 
 in the morning dew. Above her hung the pic 
 ture of a haughty beauty who had been allied 
 to the grand dukes in times forgotten. Beyond, 
 a sturdy knight with steel cuirass and a forbid 
 ding look, popularly supposed to have been the 
 greatest marauder of his time, and below, 
 the picture of an abbess, whose sweet face 
 contrasted strangely with the evil, passionate 
 countenance above. On the other side were 
 portraits of the present generation, an Italian 
 face in the midst of them, of one that had
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 79 
 
 crept in among the. Teutons only to die by the 
 cruel north wind. Beside her was a dashing 
 officer in red uniform, her husband. He had 
 loved art more than soldiering, and fell heir to 
 Kartlow unexpectedly through the death of his 
 brother. These were the parents of the Strahls, 
 long dead. On the next wall was a profile of a 
 fair girl, unlike the rest, in form and feature of 
 the English type. This picture reminded one 
 of Elsa. Above her were some children s 
 heads, like flowerets sent upon earth to blossom 
 for an hour and fade back into eternity 
 with the dew of heaven still upon their brows. 
 They had been formed for fairer skies, and 
 quickly followed their southern mother to the 
 tomb. 
 
 Beyond the dining-room, behind the closed 
 doors, stretched the banquet hall. It had been 
 rarely used, as the late Herr von Strahl had 
 been called to Italy by the sudden illness of his 
 wife, and never finished furnishing the castle. 
 
 The lower floors of the house were finished 
 in hard woods, and this great salon, designed 
 for state occasions, was bare of decorations 
 except two enormous white porcelain stoves,
 
 8o THE MA GIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 and a crystal chandelier. Since the return of 
 the children this year, there had been an attempt 
 at furnishing the salon as a music-room. A 
 grand piano stood in the bay window overlook 
 ing the garden and park, and a large sofa with 
 a heavy carved frame was placed against the 
 wall near one of the stoves. In front of it 
 stood a carved oak table, surrounded by several 
 chairs of unique design. In the center of the 
 vast space a carpet was stretched like a rug. It 
 was a sample of tapestry work of a past gen 
 eration, a wedding gift from the bridesmaids of 
 Berthe s grandmother, and its bright colors were 
 faded by time into dull, harmonious tones. 
 Eight straight-backed chairs, covered with em 
 broidered cushions of the same period, stood 
 around its edges and held it in place, and a few 
 modern chairs and tables scattered around, to 
 gether with a profusion of blooming plants in 
 the windows and singing birds in cages hang 
 ing above them, gave the whole a habitable air 
 that seemed at first impossible. Gothic folding 
 doors led from the salle to a suite of apartments 
 overlooking the garden, called the blue and red 
 suite. One corner of the blue room took in
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE, 8 1 
 
 the south tower, and out of this led the apart 
 ments of the late baroness, now occupied by 
 Sophie. The apartments of the late baron on 
 the other side of the house were used by 
 Victor, whose sitting-room was in the west 
 tower in the front of the Schloss. 
 
 Underneath were the archives containing all 
 the family papers, reached by a secret stair 
 case. In front of this tower the watchman 
 stood at night and called the hours as they 
 struck by the tower clock. The baron s apart 
 ments opened on the large circular staircase 
 which extended up one flight, bare of carpet 
 or rug, to a long straight corridor above. This 
 was dimly lighted at each end by a window. 
 On either side were suites of rooms, their 
 hard wood floors covered plentifully with 
 rugs, and containing great wardrobes to sup 
 ply the place of closets. The third story 
 was yet unfinished and served as a store 
 room. 
 
 At the back of the Schloss there was a 
 veranda leading to the terrace, on which stood 
 statues of Flora and Proserpine, and beyond it 
 stretched a beautiful lawn, interspersed with
 
 82 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 flower beds of curious designs. A stream ran 
 through the fields into a pond surrounding an 
 island, dashed over a dam into the park, and 
 flowed irregularly on through the woods for a 
 mile or more. 
 
 A picturesque bridge led to the island ; water 
 lilies sprang up near the shore and swans moved 
 in and out of them. 
 
 The lawn ran down to the water s edge on 
 one side, and was shut in by a high hedge that 
 concealed the fruit and vegetable gardens on 
 the other. 
 
 Berthe and Sophie von Strahl were sitting 
 on the veranda chatting over their work. On 
 a rustic table before them lay a basket of 
 embroidery silks and a box of etching mater 
 ials. Berthe s agile fingers were busy con 
 structing a plush work bag for Frau von 
 Althaus, and Sophie was etching the white 
 wood corners for an album, from the design of 
 an old German print which she had copied 
 with remarkable skill. Victor and Uhlheim 
 were playing lawn tennis near the island, while 
 the sound of their merry shouts reached the 
 girls on the veranda.
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 83 
 
 "What do you think of Herr Uhlheim?" 
 said Berthe suddenly. 
 
 " I don t know," answered Sophie. " It must 
 be a great change for him." 
 
 " He was so gay last winter in Cannes. His 
 father s death made a great difference to him." 
 
 " Yes, but Xante is so considerate. She has 
 not yet mentioned his position here." 
 
 " They will find out soon enough. A day 
 or two will solve the mystery. After all it is 
 no secret, and if he fancied we were trying to 
 be considerate he would shout it out from the 
 house tops. I don t know but that it would be 
 wiser," said Sophie, as she filled her pen with 
 ink. 
 
 " Elsa is coming to-day." 
 
 " Yes, she will soon be here." 
 
 " And Donna too ? " 
 
 " Yes, and I fancy the Waldbecks will drive 
 over." 
 
 "There is Elsa now," said Berthe, rising from 
 her work to meet Elsa, who had just appeared 
 in the doorway. 
 
 " I did not let them announce me," she said ; 
 " because I knew I should find you here,
 
 84 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 engaged in some worthy work which I will not 
 disturb. This is an ideal place to live in," she 
 added with enthusiasm as she breathed in the 
 pure air with a long sigh of contentment. " It 
 is so still, very different from my sea. After 
 all, I think I could not live without the tumult 
 of my sea." 
 
 The sun was reflected in the water of the 
 "Teich" and filled the lilies with its golden 
 light, and in the distance the fields of grain 
 waved yellow against the green foliage. A 
 stork flapped his wings and flew noisily to 
 his mate in the nest on the top of a neighbor 
 ing building. 
 
 " This is our home," said Berthe, " and we 
 like the stillness. Yet we can stay so short a 
 time. The doctor says AVC must go away for 
 two years this autumn, possibly to Madeira. 
 Then there may be hope for a perfect cure for 
 Victor, possibly for Sophie." 
 
 " You are perfectly well, Berthe ? " 
 
 " Yes, as yet." The reservation implied by 
 her tone struck a chill of apprehension to Elsa s 
 heart, and she thought : 
 
 "There is no certainty of anything, for they
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 85 
 
 all inherit the weakness of their Italian 
 mother." 
 
 But Berthe was a thorough German maiden, 
 very different from the dark eyed, dusky haired 
 Sophie, who was Italian in nature and appear 
 ance. 
 
 "There they come," cried Berthe, abruptly 
 changing the subject and motioning to Victor 
 and Uhlheim, who appeared in the gravel walk 
 just below the terrace, engaged in earnest con 
 versation. 
 
 The two men looked up as they drew near 
 and saw Elsa, and after a few hurried words, 
 Uhlheim left Victor and entered the house by 
 another path. 
 
 " Good evening, Elsa. I must excuse Uhlheim, 
 as he considers it too unceremonious to appear 
 in his tennis suit. Tante is not here to receive 
 you either. She usually has some good work 
 on hand." 
 
 " She has gone to see the pastorin, who has 
 been ill. She will be back soon, as she went 
 away early," said Sophie. 
 
 " Here comes Donna," remarked Victor, as a 
 saddle-horse led by a groom appeared prancing
 
 86 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 on the road to the stables. " And Tante, too," 
 he added. 
 
 The door to the veranda opened again to 
 admit Frau von Althaus and Donna equipped 
 in her riding habit. The canter from Carlshohe 
 had deepened the color in her cheek to crimson. 
 She shook hands cordially with them all, 
 scanned Elsa s face with her keen eyes, and 
 seated herself on the bench against the wall. 
 She seemed to bring a refreshing breeze with her. 
 
 " Glorious day. You ought not to sit here 
 working. No one should be still on such a day. 
 Every thing should be moving. Tante Alt 
 haus is the only one here with any energy," 
 she cried, baring her head to the summer wind 
 that tossed her hair in wild confusion. 
 
 "Your ride has given you a glow which is 
 contagious, but Tante has energy enough for us 
 all," said Victor. 
 
 " We all know that you are lazy, Victor. By 
 the way, I thought the Waldbecks were coming. 
 I saw their carriage on the chaussee, driving 
 this way." 
 
 " Oh, no," said Frau von Althaus, plac 
 ing a great bunch of corn flowers which she had
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 87 
 
 gathered in her walk on the table. "The car 
 riage went to W to meet Caroline." 
 
 " Caroline will have a hard time among the 
 Waldbecks. I don t envy her," said Donna. 
 
 " And who is Caroline," asked Elsa. 
 
 " She is the unfortunate sister of Herr von 
 Waldbeck, who eloped with her brother s tutor 
 some ten years ago. It was a great scandal, but 
 you, Elsa, would hardly remember it. The family 
 disowned her. He died and left her penniless 
 with one child. She has come back to the 
 Waldbecks for an indefinite period." 
 
 " Poor Caroline," murmured Donna. 
 
 " Here comes Uhlheim at last," cried Victor. 
 " Come here, my friend, I wish to introduce 
 you to Fraulein von Konigsmarkand my cousin 
 Friiulein von Rabenhorst." 
 
 Herr Uhlheim bowed and turned to Vic 
 tor s aunt, who was arranging the wild-flowers in 
 a majolica jar. 
 
 "Let me help you," he said. "I am no 
 bungler, believe me." 
 
 " Few men have the gift of arranging flowers 
 gracefully," she said, " and those who can, do 
 nothing else well. Now, you
 
 88 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 " That is a doubtful compliment," he 
 answered laughing. 
 
 He leaned against one of the pillars support 
 ing the veranda and looked nonchalantly at 
 Frau von Althaus. His eyes rested critically on 
 Elsa for a moment. She was conscious of his 
 presence. For days her thoughts had been oc 
 cupied with him ; with theories about his life 
 and interests. She had hoped yet feared to 
 meet him, and now, brought face to face with 
 him, she felt that he was absolutely indifferent 
 to her presence. Donna sat silently by her 
 side looking off over the green lawn into the 
 distance. An expression of sadness stole over 
 her face. 
 
 " What is it, Donna ? " asked Elsa softly. 
 
 " I was thinking of the unhappiness in the 
 world." 
 
 " Of Caroline ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Caroline ! " remarked Victor, who had caught 
 the name. " Ah ! why did she make a fool of 
 herself? " 
 
 " I can t help feeling sorry for her, neverthe 
 less."
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 89 
 
 " I am not," observed Elsa, the expression of 
 her face growing chilly and unsympathetic. 
 "She married beneath her; she stooped to 
 that man s level, and was punished." 
 
 Uhlheim raised his eyes and looked coldly at 
 Elsa. 
 
 " Who is this culprit ? " he asked. 
 
 " The daughter of a neighbor who ran away 
 with her brother s tutor and married him," 
 explained Elsa. 
 
 A curious expression passed over the faces of 
 the Strahls. Victor drew a long breath and 
 began hurriedly : " But, Elsa, this was a peculiar 
 case." 
 
 " No," said Elsa, calmly, " she had no excuse." 
 
 "Not even that of love?" said Uhlheim, 
 inquiringly. "You are severe, gnadiges Frau- 
 lein." 
 
 " There should have been no question of love 
 between them." 
 
 " Elsa is extreme in her ideas on some sub 
 jects," remarked Frau von Althaus, slightly 
 flushing. " This case was aggravated because 
 they were absolutely dependent on Herr von 
 Waldbeck."
 
 90 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 " A lack of money as well. That is a crime, 
 but tutors are not apt to be blessed with a super 
 abundance of gold," continued Uhlheim, in an 
 ironical tone. 
 
 " But you see," exclaimed Donna, " if she 
 had married a noble, her daughter might have 
 drawn a dowry from the convent. For in the 
 old days when the convents passed from the 
 hands of the Church each of our ancestors took 
 a certain right in the lands. The names of the 
 daughters are entered as soon as they are born. 
 After a certain time these girls are entitled to a 
 yearly income from the convents, but if they 
 marry, this stipend is forfeited. If unmarried 
 at a certain age, they have the privilege of 
 retiring to the particular convent where their 
 names have been entered to spend the rest of 
 their lives. They enter with form and cere 
 mony, dressed like brides, in white, with veils, 
 but they can get leave of absence at any time 
 from the authorities, and if they wish to marry 
 they can still do so. It is more like a home 
 than a religious order. Caroline could draw her 
 dowry before her marriage, she had the right, 
 but the daughter is debarred through her father,
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 91 
 
 because, to inherit this precious privilege one s 
 family must have been noble for sixteen gen 
 erations." 
 
 " I am sorry for Caroline," remarked Uhlheim. 
 
 " And she has to live with a censorious 
 woman who will not let her forget her position," 
 added Donna. 
 
 " And Fraulein von Rabenhorst withholds her 
 sympathy ?" 
 
 " Oh ! no, I am sorry for her suffering, but I 
 have no sympathy for the act that brought it 
 upon her." 
 
 " Do not attempt to argue with Elsa," inter 
 rupted Victor, hurriedly. " When you once 
 begin an argument with her there is no end 
 to it." 
 
 "Now who would think that this insolent 
 boy could be my pupil ? " rejoined Uhlheim, 
 laughing. " He shows me so little respect." 
 
 Into what a predicament had Elsa s thought 
 less words led her ! Yet this man, thoroughly 
 at ease, was so different from any Herr Candi- 
 dat , the only kind of tutor she had ever seen, 
 that she could not believe he was serious in 
 speaking of Victor as a pupil.
 
 92 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 " He appreciates fully your great kindness 
 in teaching him," said Frau von Althaus, in a 
 kindly tone. " I m sure that he tries you 
 sadly." 
 
 " I wager he has never been as friendly with 
 his former tutors, but he does his best not to 
 profit by my instruction." 
 
 " Did I not tell you that he would shout it 
 from the housetops?" whispered Sophie to her 
 sister. 
 
 "You have no idea," continued Uhlheim, 
 plucking the blossom off the vine that twined 
 around the post against which he was leaning. 
 " how much difficulty I have in making him 
 see any thing from a rational standpoint." 
 
 " Oh, you forget that Victor has not the 
 nature of the North German," said Donna; "he 
 is essentially Italian." 
 
 " But he must be trained as a North German. 
 He abhors mathematics, philosophy he will 
 have nothing to do with, and I believe he 
 has no taste for agriculture. He must master 
 that or his estates will go under. It would be 
 much better for him if he were more Ger 
 man."
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 93 
 
 " And if to be German is to be practical at 
 the expense of his poetical instinct," remarked 
 Elsa defiantly, " let him remain as he is." 
 
 " Exactly his unpractical argument, .gracious 
 Fraulein." 
 
 " Let me alone," cried Victor. " I shall do 
 very well." 
 
 " There speaks the dolce far niente spirit," 
 responded Donna laughing. " You ought to 
 be ashamed of yourself, Victor." 
 
 " I cry peccavi" 
 
 Victor shrugged his shoulders, and turned to 
 speak to Elsa, who answered listlessly. She 
 had listened to the conversation about her in 
 silence. She was shocked at discovering that 
 the man who had engrossed her thoughts for days 
 past as the highest type of manhood was not 
 of her class, and occupied a position beneath 
 her ; a position of which he was apparently 
 not ashamed, since he stood there carelessly 
 and good humoredly discussing it with no air 
 of bravado, but as something rather to be proud 
 of. He was apparently on an equal footing 
 with them all. Indeed this man, whose strength 
 and beauty placed him far above all other men
 
 94 THE MA GIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 she had seen, seemed to bring his mind down 
 to their common-place level. 
 
 And yet there was nothing inharmonious in 
 his manner. He was thoroughly well bred 
 and at ease, but there was something incon 
 gruous in his position. 
 
 He looked more of an aristocrat than any 
 scion of nobility she had known. He met 
 her eye openly, almost defiantly, she fancied, 
 and her pride rose in rebellion against his 
 assumed superiority. 
 
 After all he was not of her rank and should 
 possess no interest for her. His glance had 
 thrilled her, because she had never thought it 
 possible that any save men of her own class 
 could control her fancy. 
 
 She had lived dreaming in a corner of 
 the world. Of her life the people formed 
 no part except as recipients of her bounty. The 
 high wall of conventionality shut them out from 
 her. Therefore this man of inferior birth could 
 exist for her simply as Victor s tutor, to be 
 received in the family as a necessary appendage. 
 Civility was due him as to the doctor or parson 
 or any person of the middle class, but beyond
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 95 
 
 this nothing, for there was the social barrier of 
 caste between them. 
 
 She was seized with a revulsion of feeling 
 against this burgher who had exercised such a 
 powerful influence over her mind, and her pride 
 rose in antagonism to him. 
 
 " Mecklenburg is an unexplored country for 
 me. I have never been so far north before," 
 he was saying to Donna. 
 
 " And Herr Uhlheim has traveled the world 
 over," cried Victor. " Think of that ! " 
 
 "Why not?" rejoined Donna. "There is noth 
 ing to attract a foreigner here. The old town 
 of W - is quaint, and the Schloss at Schwe- 
 rin is charming; the country is like a garden to 
 be sure, but there are castles and old towns 
 elsewhere. Nobody stays here unless he must." 
 
 " But nowhere is the sea so beautiful," ex 
 claimed Elsa with enthusiasm. " It dashes 
 grandly against the cliffs when the north wind 
 sweeps over it, and falls back in glittering 
 spray like myriads of diamonds. There is no 
 sea like the Baltic in the world. I have not 
 been a wanderer like the rest of you. This 
 land is my home, and I love it."
 
 g6 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 "And Elsa is right," rejoined Donna, with 
 emphasis. " Although I for one plead guilty 
 to loving other lands better than my own, 
 hers is a sentiment to be commended in the 
 abstract." 
 
 " Possibly if Fraulein von Rabenhorst should 
 travel, she too might be converted to other 
 lands." 
 
 " You don t know her. She would come back 
 with the same prejudice in favor of her sea/ 
 answered Donna, shaking her head. " She is 
 incorrigible." 
 
 " Breathes there a man with soul so dead/ " 
 quoted Victor in a sepulchral voice. 
 
 "Victor, your English accent is abominable." 
 
 " But the sentiment is good," retorted Victor, 
 uncrushed by Donna s criticism. 
 
 Uhlheim looked at Elsa critically ; her face 
 had regained its habitual air of cold indifference. 
 Her eyes were cast down, the white lids covered 
 the burning depths he did not see : 
 
 " Oh, Undine ! " he thought, " so beautiful in 
 your coldness." 
 
 Why had he felt the opposition of her nature 
 from the first moment that he glanced at her in
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 97 
 
 the church ? She was proud and cold like the 
 rest of her kind. 
 
 The clock in the tower struck seven. 
 
 "So late!" exclaimed Elsa, rising. "Victor, 
 will you order my phaeton? " 
 
 " Certainly, if you must go." 
 
 The phaeton appeared from the stables as she 
 spoke. 
 
 "And you have little Hans as groom," 
 said Sophie. " I thought he was in dis 
 grace." 
 
 " But did you never hear the end of that 
 story?" asked Donna. 
 
 " What was it ? " exclaimed Berthe and 
 Sophie Strahl simultaneously. 
 
 " Simply this. The old general was very 
 angry and said he would send him to prison. 
 Elsa was playing in the next room on the 
 piano. She could see the little culprit in the 
 mirror at the end of the room as he stood before 
 her stern father, hanging his head in a shame 
 faced way. She played on. Suddenly the boy 
 lifted his head and listened. His face lost its 
 dull look; he did not hear the stern reprimand 
 and threat of awful punishment, but crept nearer
 
 98 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE, 
 
 the door. I shall send you to jail, thundered 
 the general. 
 
 " You will give him to me, papa/ called Elsa 
 from the distance. 
 
 " At the sound of Elsa s voice little Hans 
 shrank back terrified. The general demurred, 
 but finally ended by agreeing to her proposal 
 and gave Hans another trial." 
 
 " Why did you take the little scapegrace, 
 Elsa? "asked Victor. "There is no good in 
 the family. They are a set of rascals. His 
 father is in prison now." 
 
 " No one who loves music is thoroughly bad, 
 Victor, and I shall reform him," returned Elsa 
 confidently. 
 
 " You have great faith in the efficacy of 
 music," observed Uhlheim. 
 
 " Say, rather, she has that divine faith in 
 human nature possessed by the angels," an 
 swered Donna. 
 
 " He will betray you. Don t put your faith 
 in him," said Uhlheim. 
 
 " I gave my word that he would do better," 
 replied Elsa, proudly lifting her eyes to meet 
 his % " He will not make me break my word."
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 99 
 
 " If he has the nature to appreciate your trust 
 he will prove the exception." 
 
 " He has not failed so far." 
 
 Uhlheim shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 They had walked to the front of the Schloss, 
 where the object of discussion stood waiting. 
 His dark eyes searched eagerly for his mistress, 
 quick to note her slightest movement. 
 
 " I may be wrong," muttered Uhlheim in a 
 low voice as he looked at the lad. " But who 
 knows," he added bitterly. " It is better not to 
 trust." 
 
 Elsa gathered up the reins and drove off 
 through the village. 
 
 " She is predestined to suffer," murmured 
 Donna, half to herself. 
 
 " Through pride," added Uhlheim, and turned 
 away.
 
 VI. 
 
 T THLHEIM and Victor left the group that 
 i_j was standing on the steps and disappeared 
 round the corner of the Schloss. The sun was 
 setting and the evening stillness had settled on 
 the fields. The notes of the nightingale 
 sounded over the pond, the swans had disap 
 peared, and the echo of the men s footsteps was 
 the only sound to break the stillness. They 
 turned toward the wood after passing the 
 bridge that led to the island and followed the 
 path through the park. 
 
 "What do you think of her? " asked Victor 
 at last. 
 
 "Of whom?" 
 
 "Of Elsa!" 
 
 " I have not thought of her," answered Uhl- 
 heim indifferently. 
 
 " How could you help it ? " 
 
 " She does not please me, if you must 
 know. But you do not ask me of what
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. IOI 
 
 I am thinking," added Uhlheim, abruptly 
 changing the subject. " I must scold you ; 
 your aunt is dissatisfied with your progress." 
 
 " My aunt has a mistaken idea about me," 
 cried Victor, throwing himself full length in 
 the grass under a tree, and resting his head on 
 his elbow. " It may be well enough for other 
 fellows to study Kant and Hegel and all that 
 sort of thing, but I think it would do me no 
 good." 
 
 " But a man must know something of 
 philosophy and metaphysics," answered his 
 tutor. "And you are shockingly ignorant, my 
 boy." 
 
 "Possibly," rejoined Victor, flushing slightly. 
 " But I had rather be ignorant." 
 
 "That argument is unworthy of you." 
 
 " I wish to preserve my illusions." 
 
 " Laudable desire, very ! Unfortunately, 
 one s illusions must be destroyed in spite of the 
 tenderest nursing." 
 
 "Or, by too much knowledge of Kant s 
 theories," added Victor laughing. " Where 
 ignorance is bliss, tis folly to be wise ! " 
 
 " You talk like a girl. A man s mind should
 
 102 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 investigate. When men discuss subjects a school 
 boy should be conversant with, do you wish 
 to stand and gape dully at them? The German 
 school of philosophy is world-renowned, and 
 you, a German, wish to know nothing of it ? " 
 Uhlheim s tone was severe. 
 
 " There are works of the devil one wishes to 
 know nothing of," returned Victor with a 
 frown. 
 
 " Pshaw ! You have been in the hands of 
 stupid narrow theologians all your life. Is there 
 one man among all your tutors here, in Meck 
 lenburg, of unbiased mind ? These so-called 
 instructors keep all progressive books out of 
 your reach, as the Romanists forbid their people 
 the Bible for fear of the mischief a broadened 
 vision might do their institutions. As Luther s 
 translation of the Bible led to liberality in 
 religion in past ages, so will books on philoso 
 phy and metaphysics lead to a new era in its 
 future history." 
 
 " By destroying it and making the world 
 material," retorted Victor. " It is bad enough 
 to be an infidel and deny Christ, but to me an 
 atheist is horrible."
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 103 
 
 " You go too far," observed the other reflect 
 ively. " How can one deny the existence of God 
 with evidence of His presence in boundless 
 nature. Call it Nature or God, some power which 
 we do not understand moves the springs of this 
 universe and created us. But why trammel our 
 selves with unnecessary detail ? Why allow the 
 paraphernalia of the church to hamper us ? The 
 result of research is to tear away the veil of super 
 stition, and leave one free to cast away the chaff 
 and preserve the grain. I was born a Roman 
 ist. To-day I am Catholic in the broadest 
 sense." 
 
 " I have not the strength to investigate," 
 said Victor, sullenly. 
 
 " You mean that you are afraid to investi 
 gate." 
 
 " Herr Uhlheim, the Christ has always been 
 my friend since I could fold my hands in 
 prayer. He has been my strength in illness, 
 my refuge in sorrow. You ask me to give up a 
 stronghold for an uncertainty ; to cast doubt on 
 His identity and His lessons of self-sacrifice. 
 Those who attack His divinity, attack me. He 
 is my Saviour and without him I am lost. If
 
 104 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 I had the mind to grasp these abstruse theories 
 and my faith were shaken, I should be lost 
 indeed, for what could you give me in return ? " 
 
 Victor had the expression of a hunted ani 
 mal in his soft, brown eyes, so like a woman s. 
 
 " Far be it from me to take any thing away 
 from you, my boy. You can not separate your 
 intellect from your heart s instincts. If this is 
 a question of feeling such as you describe we 
 will never touch Kant or any of the rascals." 
 
 "You would be no friend to me if you would 
 shake my faith," returned Victor, in a reproach 
 ful tone. 
 
 " I would not shake your faith, if you are 
 blessed with faith. I would merely give 
 you works of science to broaden your 
 mind. I would have you look into the 
 thoughts and theories of clever men ; but if it 
 would pain you and bring dissatisfaction into a 
 life that has the rare gift of happy unconscious 
 ness, I would be the last one to suggest these 
 studies. Remember, I am not a tutor like those 
 you have known formerly. I would give you a 
 glimpse of the world from the broadest stand 
 point. But you can never be a man of the
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 105 
 
 world. You are not made of the right stuff. 
 You are idealistic, irrational, and 
 
 " Ignorant. Say it, my friend, it is true. 
 But if knowledge bring sorrow, let me still be 
 ignorant." 
 
 "Yes," returned Uhlheim. " After all, hap 
 piness is the main thing, and one learns lessons 
 from such as you. Does not the divine English 
 poet say : 
 
 " Leave thou thy sister when she prays, 
 Her early Heaven, her happy views ; 
 Nor thou with shadow d hint confuse 
 A life that leads melodious days. 
 Her faith thro form is pure as thine, 
 Her hands are quicker unto good, 
 Oh ! sacred be the flesh and blood 
 To which she links a truth divine. 
 See thou, that countest reason ripe 
 In holding by the law within, 
 Thou fail not in a world of sin, 
 And ev n for want of such a type. " 
 
 " I have not a mind like yours," remarked 
 Victor, somewhat bitterly. " Let me be. I 
 like the sunshine and the flowers, and best of 
 all, my violin. You should talk to my cousin 
 Elsa," he added, lying back and looking up
 
 106 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 through the branches at the sky. " She has 
 mind and soul combined." 
 
 " Her soul is in your imagination. She is 
 cold as ice." 
 
 * But her music. They say she is full of 
 music. She played Gounod s Ave Maria 
 divinely with me three years ago." 
 
 Uhlheim smiled. 
 
 " I fancy your imagination colored that per 
 formance, too." 
 
 Victor colored and followed the flight of a 
 bird high up in the heavens. 
 
 " I have had small play for my imagination, 
 for I have seen her so seldom ; but I assure you 
 that she can play so as to make your veins run 
 fire. You will find it out some day." 
 
 But Uhlheim thought of the pale face, and 
 smiled somewhat incredulously. That form 
 in somber draperies, well proportioned as 
 it was, could never embody his mysterious 
 voice. There was silence for a time, and Vic 
 tor, lulled by the buzzing insects, closed his 
 eyes and fell asleep, his long lashes fringing 
 his cheek. 
 
 The breeze rustled through the trees and
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 107 
 
 died away. Suddenly there rose a wail as of a 
 human voice, but so sad in its tone as to make 
 one shudder. 
 
 Uhlheim raised his head quickly. Nearer, 
 louder it came, until it seemed to surround 
 them and passed on. 
 
 " My God ! " cried Uhlheim, " I have argued 
 this last hour against superstition, while I myself 
 am bound in the meshes of a superstition as 
 incredible as any of the dogmas I have decried." 
 
 Again the voice sounded through the forest 
 and died away. 
 
 " It speaks to me of things I have never 
 found in my life and never shall find. It stirs 
 my soul with longing for the unattainable. It 
 
 haunts and it mocks me." 
 
 * * * * # 
 
 Elsa drove rapidly over the chaussee, urging 
 her pony to the utmost. Little Hans behind, 
 with his arms folded stiffly, swayed in his seat 
 as they turned the corners. Her lips were com 
 pressed, her eyes gazed steadily from under her 
 knit brows, and her heart ached dully. The 
 discovery that her hero was of the middle class 
 overwhelmed her with shame. The thought that
 
 108 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 she, who prided herself on her name and boldly 
 asserted that a man was not a gentleman 
 unless he was noble, could have idealized a 
 man in Uhlheim s position humiliated her to 
 the dust. A small voice whispered to her 
 heart : 
 
 " Still he is noble, accident of birth or posi 
 tion can not debase his nature. He is worthy 
 of your love." Love ! No, she had made the 
 discovery in time to save herself the disgrace 
 of having loved him. 
 
 Not only did he laugh at her and show her 
 plainly how little impression she had made on 
 him, but he seemed to glory in his position. 
 She would treat him with the indiffer 
 ence he merited, and wither his presumption 
 with her scorn. They reached Rabenhorst. 
 And well named it was with its gloomy sur 
 roundings. The sky was clouded, a storm was 
 brewing, the wind swept over the sea in fitful 
 gusts and capped the waves. It suited her mood, 
 for she was thoroughly roused and the blood 
 tingled in her veins. She ran up the winding 
 staircase into the salon and threw open 
 the casement. The wind scattered the papers
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 109 
 
 and books in confusion ; but it seemed to calm 
 her troubled spirit. 
 
 " Du lieber Gott ! " exclaimed a querulous 
 voice behind her. " What are you doing, 
 Elsa ! " 
 
 "Nothing, Tante." 
 
 " But it rains and every thing will be spoiled." 
 The old lady moved about as quickly as her 
 fat limbs would carry her to remedy the havoc 
 caused by the violence of the wind. Elsa closed 
 the casement. " There, that is better. Why ! 
 your hair is flying in all directions." 
 
 The old Fraulein sat down panting from her 
 exertion. " So you saw them all. And is the 
 handsome stranger Herr von Mecklin s son? 
 I m very curious to hear all about him." 
 
 Elsa did not answer. 
 
 " He does not look a bit like his father," 
 continued the old lady. 
 
 " He is not Herr von Mecklin s son ?" inter 
 rupted Elsa shortly. " His name is Uhlheim." 
 
 " Uhlheim ! There is no Mecklenburg 
 family of that name among the nobility. 
 Uhlheim, let me see, von Uhlheim of course." 
 
 " Why of course? " said Elsa with impatience.
 
 no THE MAGIC OF A I OICE. 
 
 11 His name is simply Uhlheim, and he is 
 Victor s tutor." 
 
 "That man a tutor!" exclaimed Fraulein 
 von Klein, lifting her hands in amazement. 
 
 Before her eyes passed an array of tutors 
 such as she had known, undersized men of 
 inferior ability, who taught humbly and unpre 
 tentiously, a painful contrast to the elegant- 
 looking man who filled that position at Kart- 
 low. 
 
 " I must say that I think Victor s aunt a very 
 peculiar woman. Such a lion among her lambs ! 
 Suppose one of the girls should fall in love with 
 him. It is highly dangerous and improper." 
 
 Elsa flushed to the eyes. 
 
 " Your supposition is highly improper, Tante," 
 she cried with flashing eyes. " They could not 
 so disgrace themselves ! " 
 
 " Nonsense ! All very fine, but human na 
 ture is weak ; and he really looks like a gentle 
 man. What a scandal it would create ! Frau 
 von Althaus is crazy. This is one of their for 
 eign acquisitions. Traveling does no good, 
 for it puts silly notions into one s head. The 
 idea of bringing a man like that to quiet, re-
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 1 1 1 
 
 spectable Mecklenburg, and letting him loose 
 among us all ! Perhaps she likes him herself; 
 I shouldn t be at all surprised 
 
 " Xante, I will not listen to you ! " cried Elsa, 
 indignantly. "And you a Stifts dame , who 
 have spent twenty years in convent life ! 
 Where did you get such horrible thoughts? I 
 am shocked at you ! " 
 
 Then, casting an indignant glance at the old 
 lady, she swept out of the room. 
 
 But the words had left their sting. Why 
 should they not fall in love with him? If his 
 power over her had been so strong, why 
 should others not yield to it? She threw 
 herself on her chaise tongue and burst into 
 tears. 
 
 And the old " Stifts dame " in the salon mut 
 tered : "To think that Elsa should be such a 
 spitfire ! she who is always so cool and reserved. 
 Perhaps I was hasty." Then she hurried to 
 tell the under-housekeeper that the handsome 
 Herr in the Strahl pew last Sunday was only 
 Victor s new tutor, and not so fine a personage 
 after all. 
 
 Elsa was roused from her position by two
 
 112 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 little hands clasping her hot palm and a soft 
 cheek pressed against hers. 
 
 " Schwester Elsa," murmured a childish voice 
 in her ear. " My dear Schwester, do not cry ! 
 Heine will comfort you." 
 
 " Dear child ! " exclaimed Elsa, as she clasped 
 the boy to her heart. "You always comfort 
 me." 
 
 "But why are you unhappy, dear sister? 
 Who has dared to vex you ? " He doubled up 
 his tiny fists and shook them at the imagi 
 nary enemy. " Just tell me and I will kill 
 him ! " 
 
 "Hush, my darling," murmured Elsa, wiping 
 away the traces of her recent tears. " Noth 
 ing troubles me when you are near." She 
 smiled, looking tenderly down into his up 
 turned face. 
 
 "Tell me about the storks," he said, nestling 
 close to her. " Listen to the wind ! The storks 
 are safe from the storm at Kartlow?" 
 
 "Yes. dear, quite safe," she whispered, to 
 quiet his anxiety. 
 
 " Did you see the father stork fly to the 
 mother stork in the nest above the laundry, and
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 113 
 
 bring food to the little ones? 1 wanted to go 
 and see them to-day. You will take me some 
 time, and I will sit up in Hans s seat behind. 
 It is just big enough for me." 
 
 "Yes, dear," answered Elsa absently, patting 
 his ruddy cheek. 
 
 " But the stork story ! Tell me while the 
 winds blow outside. Please go on ! " 
 
 Then Elsa began, but her sweet voice had a 
 tinge of sadness in its tone, and the story, tak 
 ing color from her mood, was so gloomy that 
 little Heine interrupted her with vehemence, 
 crying reproachfully : 
 
 " You never told me such a cruel story before, 
 but I don t believe it is true. How wicked for 
 the father bird to go away and leave them all. 
 I don t like that story at all. I like the one 
 where the stork is saved from his enchantment 
 by a lovely lady and becomes a prince, and 
 there is happiness ever after." 
 
 " Ah ! but there is not happiness ever after," 
 replied Elsa, listlessly. " No, I can t tell you 
 good stories to-day, I am not in the right mood. 
 The wind makes me restless." 
 
 She leaned her cheek against the golden head
 
 114 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 pillowed on her bosom, and murmured softly : 
 " It is only the wind." 
 
 The next day two things occurred to influence 
 Elsa s life. Her father was called away to 
 Austria by the severe illness of an old friend, and 
 Elsa and Heine were invited to visit at Kart- 
 low for an indefinite period. Fraulein von Klein 
 protested against the visit as dangerous. The 
 general favored it in terms that were almost a 
 command, not wishing to leave his children 
 alone for so long a time, as his absence might be 
 prolonged for weeks. Elsa disdained any notice 
 of the old lady s insinuations and determined to 
 prove them unfounded by going to Kartlow, 
 where she would live under the same roof with 
 this dangerous lion and prove herself utterly 
 superior to his influence. Some of the 
 neighbors had gone to the seashore, so that at 
 Kartlow they were comparatively dependent 
 on themselves for society. Matilda von Wald- 
 beck had been sent to her grandmother in 
 Berlin to prepare for her confirmation, her 
 mother said, but according to Donna s version 
 in order that Matilda might be out of reach of 
 her own pernicious influence. Donna rode over
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 115 
 
 to Kartlow almost every day. Together she 
 and Elsa would wander through the woods, 
 picking wild flowers, or would drive through the 
 summer air at a rapid pace, engaged in talk 
 about life at the princess s court, where Donna 
 had seen many people of note and fashion. Of 
 love they never spoke. Elsa s ideas were no 
 longer vague. She had given up theorizing on 
 the subject, and Donna was already regarded 
 as an old maid and possible " Stifts dame" by 
 her friends. 
 
 The Strahl girls were not imaginative like 
 their brother, whose violin was the medium 
 through which his thoughts found utterance. 
 He played to Elsa, and she listened without 
 realizing the purport of his music, or that she 
 might be his ideal maid. His music thrilled 
 her, but she thought of the wonderful tones of 
 his violin, not of the player. It seemed as 
 though her heart had turned to stone. 
 
 Uhlheim was much with them. His leisure 
 was spent, in reading or in taking long walks 
 alone. He was not morbid, as Louis de Vere had 
 fancied ; on the contrary, the mysterious voice 
 which he heard at intervals in the woods,
 
 Il6 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 had ceased to depress him. One clear night 
 he was sitting at his study window with 
 the casement open to let in all the air pos 
 sible ; for it was sultry. The moon cast shad 
 ows on the lawn and silvered the spray of 
 the fountain on the terrace. The plashing 
 of the water alone broke the silence. His 
 thoughts were busy with the past. He saw his 
 father, a fine old Austrian soldier, who had 
 risen to the rank of general by his own 
 valor, bowed to the dust by dishonor. He 
 had never reproached his father. His mother s 
 little fortune, left to him at her death and placed 
 in his father s hands for safe keeping, would 
 have sufficed to carry out his long cherished 
 plans of research and travel. His father had 
 tried to double it by speculation, and had been 
 imposed upon by adventurers. Since his inten 
 tion had been good, no one should cast suspi 
 cion on his honesty because of the unfortunate 
 result. Leopold had held his father blameless, 
 and had cheerfully given up the last, penny of 
 his fortune to shield his father s name, but the 
 humiliation killed the old man. Leopold was 
 left to begin life anew. Fortunes are not made
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 117 
 
 in a day. Should he seek the new world, or 
 accept a position in his uncle s office at Ham 
 burg ? While hesitating, Frau von Althaus made 
 him an offer which met his favor. He did not 
 reject it. Victor was a charming boy, his aunt 
 an agreeable hostess, the girls amiable, and his 
 position did not prove as embarrassing as he 
 had imagined it might. All had gone on smoothly 
 until the day when a new element was intro 
 duced into the household in the person of Elsa. 
 Then the atmosphere seemed changed. Since 
 she was antagonistic to him, he need not see her 
 except at table. His intercourse with her 
 would have been limited under any circum 
 stances, but his first impressions were con 
 firmed on every possible occasion by the opin 
 ions she expressed. Exquisite as a bit of 
 Sevres, though cold and soulless, he could not 
 forgive her for lacking the spirit essential to 
 make her perfect. She never could thrill him 
 like the voice that had fallen on his ear one 
 summer night not long before. He thought 
 of her as he looked out over the lawn into the 
 moonlight. The clock struck eleven and the 
 watchman below the tower cried the hour ; Uhl-
 
 Il8 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 heim leaned forward to close the casement 
 which was caught in a vine outside. A burst 
 of sound filled the air and hovered above his 
 head. It was a wondrous voice, so clear and 
 pure, breathing itself out in passionate tones 
 that fell upon his heart and rested there. It 
 seemed to burst upon the summer air like 
 magic, and sang the same melody as on that 
 night when he was journeying to Kartlow. 
 Until then he had always heard the voice in the 
 woods below the pond, and its burden had been 
 one of sadness and regret, but now it was full 
 of life and hope. He was possessed with a 
 desire to stretch out his hands and seize the 
 phantom that tortured him with dreams of 
 impossible happiness. The woman who sang 
 thus must have noble aims and strength of 
 purpose. She would breathe love, truth, every 
 thing to make life perfect. Why did she haunt 
 him and make his life wretched with longing? 
 As he reached far out of the window, the song 
 was wafted more faintly from a distance. Its 
 quivering tones were dying on the night air. 
 A nightingale took up its lament and trilled. 
 Then there was silence but for the plashing
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. \ 19 
 
 fountain. There was no sign of life but the old 
 watchman standing below like a sentinel. Leo 
 pold drew back into the shadow, the moon 
 disappeared behind a cloud, and all was still. 
 
 The next morning Uhlheim appeared at 
 breakfast and drank his coffee in silence. Frau- 
 lein von Rabenhorst recognized his presence 
 by a formal bow. She seemed paler and colder 
 than ever. Her presence jarred on him, and he 
 withdrew to the seclusion of his study, without 
 delay. 
 
 That evening, Frau von Althaus, noticing 
 Uhlheim s absence, asked Victor its cause. 
 
 " Study," replied Victor, ironically. " To 
 think that such a wise man should have to 
 study!" 
 
 " He must be writing a romance," said Berthe. 
 " I always thought writing a romance must be 
 a very laborious matter." 
 
 " No, it is something profound, that requires 
 quiet for the brain." 
 
 " He used to come down every evening until 
 Elsa came," said Sophie. 
 
 "Of course; Elsa is a terrible personage." 
 
 Elsa blushed.
 
 120 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 11 1 don t think my presence can affect Herr 
 Uhlheim. I am sure we are entirely indifferent 
 to each other," said Elsa with a superb air. 
 
 " Elsa is quite right," remarked Frau von 
 Althaus, clicking her knitting needles and draw 
 ing nearer the light. " I don t think her pres 
 ence makes the slightest difference to your 
 tutor." 
 
 " Why, Tante, Uhlheim said the other day 
 
 What Uhlheim had said was not fated to 
 be repeated, for Berthe promptly put her hand 
 over Victor s mouth. 
 
 " Hush ! " she whispered, for at this juncture 
 Uhlheim entered. 
 
 "What did I say, my boy ? What terrible 
 secret were you about to unfold ? " 
 
 " I thought you were deep in that profound 
 work which is to startle the world some day." 
 
 "And that you were safe in repeating my 
 ingenuous remarks. Well learn, then, that you 
 are never safe, for I may appear to confirm or dis 
 pute them, as the case maybe, at any moment. 
 What was it ? " 
 
 A warning look from Berthe checked the 
 reply on Victor s lips.
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 121 
 
 " It was nothing of any consequence," he 
 rejoined, half embarrassed. " Perhaps I might 
 as well tell, for you might otherwise think it of 
 importance. It was only your opinion of 
 Elsa." 
 
 Elsa lifted her head proudly, and met Leo 
 pold s gaze of quiet scrutiny. 
 
 " It would be presumption in me to utter an 
 opinion of Fraulein von Rabenhorst." 
 
 There was an irony in his tone that cut 
 her to the quick. 
 
 " Herr Uhlheim is quite right, Victor," she 
 replied, quietly. 
 
 "There is a barrier separating Fraulein von 
 Rabenhorst and myself which is impassable." 
 
 " He means that I am beneath his notice," 
 she thought, and she bit her lips to keep back 
 her rising temper. " What can I do to make 
 him think I despise him ? " 
 
 " You are very complimentary, you two," 
 cried Victor. " I wish you would be more 
 agreeable to each other." 
 
 " Herr Uhlheim is here for the purpose of 
 teaching you, not of being agreeable to me. It 
 is not the slightest consequence what your
 
 122 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 tutor thinks of me. For my part I have never 
 thought of him favorably or otherwise." 
 
 Elsa rose, gathered up her embroidery, and 
 swept from the room with dignity befitting 
 a queen, while Leopold threw open the doors 
 wide and made a low bow as she passed him." 
 
 " Herr Uhlheim, you must not mind her," 
 said Victor s aunt apologetically. " Victor was 
 wrong to speak as he did." 
 
 "I didn t say any thing to hurt Elsa. How 
 could I know she was touchy about Uhlheim." 
 
 " Touchy ! What an expression ! " 
 
 " She is very young. She has the prejudices 
 of her race. The world will teach her many 
 lessons." 
 
 And Elsa heard the words from the next room, 
 where she stood with her head pressed against 
 the window pane peering out into the darkness. 
 Berthe and Sophie stood beside her, but she 
 answered their questions in monosyllables. 
 Leopold went out on to the veranda. She 
 could see him standing there motionless in the 
 gloom. A few moments later she joined him. 
 
 " Herr Uhlheim," slje said, " I was rude to 
 you, and I beg your pardon. Victor s remarks
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 123 
 
 made me lose my temper. I was wrong. Will 
 you forget my words ? " 
 
 There was a new grace in her manner which 
 he had never seen before. Her eyes met his 
 with frankness. Perhaps he had misjudged 
 her. 
 
 " I had already forgotten," he answered, 
 without hesitation. " Why can we not be 
 friends? " he added impulsively. " Why are we 
 so hostile ? " 
 
 She drew back a step and looked at him in 
 surprise, as if he had taken a liberty, and she 
 thought : 
 
 " He shall not triumph over me nor think he 
 can command too much when I apologized from 
 a sense of justice." 
 
 "Friends?" she echoed coldly. " Herr 
 Uhlheim, you forget that there can be no ques 
 tion of friendship between us." 
 
 She turned and passed through the doorway, 
 leaving him there with resentment in his heart. 
 He was seized with an impulse to crush her for 
 daring to insult him. 
 
 The tones of Victor s violin rose indistinctly 
 from the great salle, and he heard Frau von
 
 124 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 Althaus calling him in to evening prayer. 
 Still he did not move. He was thinking with 
 bitterness of the proud fair girl whom he could 
 see through the window, sitting with her face 
 turned away from him.
 
 VII. 
 
 A MONTH had passed without any unusual 
 occurrence to mark its flight. Elsa had 
 never been away from Rabenhorst for so long a 
 time. 
 
 Heine was engrossed in his especial pets the 
 storks. They had already begun to know 
 him and feed from his hand. The storks nest 
 was on the roof of the laundry near the castle. 
 This was a tall stucco and brick building with 
 a high, thatched roof. By mounting a ladder 
 and creeping through a window under the 
 rafters, one could readily reach the nest on the 
 roof. Many hours he passed there with the 
 old storks and their little ones, while Elsa was 
 wandering through the woods or driving 
 through the wheat fields with Victor and his 
 sisters. One afternoon in September Berthe 
 came running out to the veranda where they 
 were all sitting, and Sophie was serving cof 
 fee.
 
 126 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 "The Waldbecks are coming in their new 
 carriage," she cried. 
 
 " Four outriders at least," said Donna. 
 
 "The new carriage with four horses, the fine 
 harness and two footmen in new liveries," con 
 tinued Berthe, with wide open eyes. 
 
 " What magnificence to waste on us ! Why 
 isn t there a prince here ? Uhlheim, you look 
 like one. The Fates made a mistake in not 
 labeling you." 
 
 "Thank you. It is more of an honor to be 
 one of nature s noblemen." 
 
 " Go quickly and receive them, Victor," said 
 Frau von Althaus. 
 
 " As you command, illustrious Tante, lend 
 me your dignity for the occasion." 
 
 He went out with Uhlheim, and soon 
 returned with Frau von Waldbeck, followed 
 by the two girls. 
 
 They were resplendent in the latest Berlin 
 fashions. Frau von Waldbeck s bonnet was 
 plentifully trimmed with real Duchesse lace, 
 and a dainty humming bird hovered above her 
 placid brow, as though about to alight. The 
 girls were attired in foulard silk with very long
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. ^2^ 
 
 and pinched-in waists. They stood painfully 
 erect and spoke with a drawl, which in Johanna 
 seemed natural but in Matilda out of place. 
 
 Every one rose to receive them, and the 
 young people kissed the elder lady s hand. 
 
 " To think I should have been back a week," 
 whispered Matilda to Donna, " and not have 
 seen you ! I have so much to tell you." 
 
 " Give Frau von Waldbeck a cup of coffee," 
 said Frau von Althaus. " She must be thirsty 
 after this long drive." 
 
 " Johanna ! " 
 
 " Yes, mamma." 
 
 "Take the cup from Sophie." 
 
 "Yes, mamma," answered the automaton 
 obediently. 
 
 " Matilda, it isn t necessary for you to 
 destroy that footstool. Why can t you sit 
 still. I don t think your sojourn with your 
 grandmother has improved you." 
 
 Matilda blushed. 
 
 " I think Matilda looks very well," remarked 
 Frau von Althaus. " She is growing to be 
 quite a woman." 
 
 "Do you think so ?"
 
 138 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 Matilda looked up eagerly with a wistful 
 glance. " I am very glad." 
 
 " Don t be so demonstrative. Although you 
 are sixteen, you are as restless as a child of six. 
 Why don t you imitate your sister Johanna?" 
 
 Johanna smiled complacently. She was 
 never ruffled ; but Matilda cast down her eyes. 
 
 " I will take Matilda to walk," said Donna 
 quickly. " We shall go as far as the island, the 
 seat under the tree is visible .from here, and if 
 you want us, we shall see you beckon." 
 
 " Do let me, mamma! " 
 
 " Well, then, go." 
 
 They needed no second bidding, but wan 
 dered off down the walk, talking earnestly 
 together. 
 
 " See what Johanna bought with some of 
 her convent money," said Berthe, holding up a 
 very handsome cut glass vinaigrette with a 
 silver stopper on which her monogram and 
 coronet were engraved. 
 
 " Do you intend to have Johanna enter the 
 convent?" asked Frau von Althaus. 
 
 " No, I intend her to marry," answered 
 Johanna s mother, looking approvingly at the
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 129 
 
 eldest of her progeny, who was languidly sniff 
 ing the vinaigrette. 
 
 " It must be such a bore to live with a lot of 
 old women in a kind of old women s home, 
 where a cow and a pig are allowed as house 
 hold pets, and flirtation with the rector may be 
 indulged in as a mild dissipation." 
 
 "Victor!" 
 
 His aunt held up her hands in horror. 
 
 " Oh ! that s not bad," remarked Johanna s 
 mother, nodding her stately head. " I had no 
 idea you were so clever. Are these doctrines 
 of your teaching, Herr Uhlheim? They are 
 very unorthodox. Really, Victor, you are 
 improving." 
 
 Frau von Waldbeck smiled sarcastically. 
 Johanna, who had joined the other girls stand 
 ing on the terrace by the fountain, looked up 
 and asked if she might take a walk ; her 
 mother nodded her permission, and they all 
 strolled leisurely toward the tennis court. 
 
 " I take no credit for inculcating such ideas 
 into his head. I was brought up a Romanist, 
 and think it rather unfair that the convents 
 should have become spoils of war, to enrich
 
 130 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 you at our expense. However, as Victor says, 
 they are a refuge for old maids." 
 
 " There ought to be an old man s home, 
 where we could be pensioned off," said the 
 Irrepressible. " The girls have all the advant 
 age." 
 
 " But for this boon one must have been noble 
 for sixteen generations. That is a penalty to 
 pay." 
 
 "Do you think so, Herr Uhlheim ? I sup 
 pose you are intensely radical," returned Frau 
 von Waldbeck, in a patronizing tone. " It 
 is usually considered an advantage in Mecklen 
 burg. Perhaps we are too conservative here !" 
 
 " Fortunately, Mecklenburg is a small part of 
 the world," retorted Uhlheim. " Its prejudices 
 are not shared by all countries." 
 
 " I m sure," interpolated Victor, " America is 
 not much better, although it is the land of the 
 free. I met an American boy at school 
 last year who was as proud of his arms and 
 seal as any of us, and could give you a line 
 of ancestors for at least sixteen generations. 
 He wouldn t speak to a fellow there, also an 
 American, whose father, although a nabob,
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 131 
 
 had the misfortune to possess an ancestor 
 who was a junk dealer." 
 
 "Those are exceptions, and because some 
 men are fools you must not judge the masses 
 by them. The principle of America, equality, 
 is the right one. See how our people develop 
 after a few years of emigration. It is the free 
 air they breathe." 
 
 " I wish it did not agree with them so well," 
 responded Frau von Waldbeck. "Our estates 
 are getting quite depopulated by this outflow. 
 After all, why should the good people leave 
 certainty for uncertainty ? They are well cared 
 for by us, and pensioned off when they are old 
 and no longer able to work." 
 
 " This argument was used by the South in 
 regard to their slaves before the Civil War in 
 America." 
 
 " But surely you do not consider our people 
 slaves, Herr Uhlheim?" cried Frau von Wald 
 beck, indignantly. 
 
 " No. They have the remedy of emigration 
 open to them," was the quick reply. 
 
 The tower clock struck five at this juncture, 
 and Victor hastily pulled out his watch.
 
 I3 2 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 " Come, Herr Uhlheim, it is time we should 
 start if we are to meet M. de Vere at the 
 station. I am quite sure your talk is get 
 ting too revolutionary for Frau von Wald- 
 beck." 
 
 " On the contrary, it amuses me. Such ideas 
 are novel, though dangerous to our people. It 
 would never do to let Herr Uhlheim loose 
 among them. They would follow him to what 
 they call the promised land like sheep." 
 
 " No fear of that," replied Uhlheim, rising. 
 " I am far too lazy to lead, even if I had the 
 power. Good afternoon, then, since Victor 
 drags me away." 
 
 The two men disappeared through the door 
 way into the house. 
 
 " What an extraordinary man your new tutor 
 is," remarked Frau von Waldbeck, after they 
 had gone. "You look distraite, Henriette, and 
 you have not said a word this half hour. Your 
 thoughts can t be engrossed in that stocking 
 you are knitting? " 
 
 Frau von Althaus roused herself with a 
 sigh. 
 
 " No," she answered. " I was wondering if
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 133 
 
 what Herr Uhlheim said might not be true, 
 and whether we did our duty by our peo- 
 pie." 
 
 " They were born stupid, my dear, and were 
 intended for beasts of burden. Do you think 
 the dear Lord made us all equal? Don t 
 dwell on the utterances of that radical. He 
 comes of the people, does he not? It is 
 natural for him to take the other side, not being 
 one of us. All jealousy! Offer him a title and 
 see how quickly he will jump at it. He looks 
 well bred, though, really quite a gentleman. 
 Who is he ? Of course he is not an ordinary 
 tutor. Don t you think his revolutionary ideas 
 may unsettle Victor?" 
 
 " Victor s nature will not permit him to grasp 
 any thing very revolutionary," was the reply. 
 Frau von Althaus evaded the question regard 
 ing Uhlheim s personal history, as it had been 
 agreed that his past should be ignored, and his 
 position should be regarded as that of any 
 ordinary tutor in the family. 
 
 " I shall ask him to come to Waldruh some 
 one of these days. I will consult him about a 
 college for Otto. He is certainly very enter-
 
 134 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 taining, but I shall take good care that he does 
 not talk too much to Johanna." 
 
 " I should think it wiser," remarked the other 
 quietly. 
 
 Meanwhile Donna and Matilda wandered 
 over the lawn to the little bridge leading to the 
 island. The swans swam up to the bank, but 
 Matilda had no bread ; for the first time they 
 had been forgotten. She hurried across the 
 bridge, clasping Donna s hand, and looked up 
 nervously toward the Schloss. 
 
 " Donna, dear," she whispered, as they seated 
 themselves under the trees, " tell me if what 
 Tante Henriette said is true ? Do I look older, 
 and am I growing to be a woman? " 
 
 " You are like a rose-bud, and don t look one 
 day older than you really are. Why?" 
 
 A look of disappointment overspread the 
 child s face. 
 
 "Ah, well ! I shall grow older some day." 
 
 "Yes, we hope so," returned Donna, smiling 
 at her earnestness. 
 
 "You have always been my friend. You 
 won t desert me now. Oh ! Donna, if mamma 
 should know! "
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 135 
 
 She closed her eyes and shuddered. 
 
 " What is it? " exclaimed Donna, alarmed at 
 her manner. " You naughty child, you frighten 
 me!" 
 
 " Hush ! Surely no one can hear us ! " 
 
 " No one." 
 
 "Oh ! Donna, how shall I tell you ! " 
 
 She buried her face in her hands. Donna 
 drew them away and clasped them in hers. 
 
 " Matilda, trust me." 
 
 Her voice was fraught with tenderness. 
 
 " Donna, have you ever been in love?" 
 
 "Have I ever been in love?" echoed Donna. 
 " Oh ! Matilda, have you been doing any thing 
 rash ? " 
 
 " Yes, and I am frightened." 
 
 "Tell me, quickly." 
 
 " You know I went to my grandmother at 
 Potsdam to prepare for my confirmation, because 
 mamma did not think Pastor Miiller the right 
 person to instruct me. The first week of my 
 stay I was lonely. The house was grand and 
 gloomy. Grandmamma was in her room almost 
 all day, and although I drove in the park with 
 her and sometimes read to her in the evening,
 
 I3 6 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 it was very dull. At the beginning of the sec 
 ond week, when I was dying of ennui, for 
 grandmamma s pastor was fully as stupid as 
 Pastor Mu ller, I saw an old friend whom I had 
 met at Carlsbad last year. Her name was 
 Janette, and she was a bright, vivacious French 
 girl, dark and beautiful. She lived next 
 us. To tell the truth I spent a great deal 
 of time there without grandmamma s knowl 
 edge, for she was a Romanist, and mamma would 
 not have permitted it, especially at that time. 
 She was so lovely, Donna, so affectionate and 
 different from any one here except you. There 
 was an abbe at their house. When he heard 
 what brought me to Potsdam, he talked to me 
 about religion. He was gentle and winning, 
 explaining every thing in such a charming way 
 as though all my questions were rational and 
 not the result of stupidity. Janette was very 
 devout, and went often to mass. One morning 
 I accompanied her to confession. I was so sad, 
 for there was a burden on my heart that seemed 
 too heavy to bear. While I waited, I saw a 
 poor woman go into the confessional with a 
 face so full of woe that it stirred my sympathy.
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 137 
 
 Soon she came out again ; her face was trans 
 figured, and I thought what a blessed relief her 
 confession must have been to her. A great 
 longing came over me to cast off this load 
 on my heart, and before I thought, I found 
 myself on my knees in the confessional, sobbing 
 as if my heart would break. From the other 
 side of the grating came the soft consoling 
 voice of the abbe, whom I had met at Janette s. 
 I poured forth all my sorrows. I prayed him 
 to give me my mother s love, which I had 
 longed for in vain all my life. Oh ! the relief 
 of this confession you can not imagine. Then 
 he spoke gentle words of comfort and absolu 
 tion and turned me to the Mother of God for 
 the love denied me by my living mother. 
 He said that some day my prayer would be 
 answered. Since then I have been happy. 
 Ah ! Were it only that I had become a Roman 
 Catholic I could be content, but there u 
 another secret which oppresses me and involves 
 obstacles hard to overcome. Donna, Janette 
 has a brother. I won t tell you about him, 
 because you will see him soon and can judge for 
 yourself. I love him. That is all. I saw him
 
 138 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 constantly when I was with Janette. I know 
 that it was very wrong, but I could not 
 help it. 
 
 "This love was stronger than my will. I fear 
 our love is hopeless, for he has no money, and 
 Johanna must marry first. He is coming to 
 Mecklenburg soon to speak to mamma, but she 
 will never forgive me for loving without her 
 consent, and she will kill me when she hears that 
 I have become a Roman Catholic." Matilda 
 paused. " Don t be angry with me, Donna," 
 she pleaded, mistaking Donna s silence for dis 
 approval. " I could not help it. If only mamma 
 had been less harsh to me, I should not have 
 felt such need for the Mother of God. Mam 
 ma s coldness is my cross, but I pray to the 
 Sainte Vierge for her night and day, and the 
 Good Mother will hear my prayer and turn her 
 heart toward me." 
 
 Matilda uttered these last words with 
 passionate intensity. Donna stroked the fair 
 head leaning against her knee. 
 
 " Poor little girl ! " she murmured. 
 
 " No, Donna, not poor. I was alone, but I 
 am alone no longer. Louis is so handsome,
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 139 
 
 noble and brave. He wasn t at all afraid to 
 meet mamma." 
 
 " Was he not ? She is yet the unknown 
 quantity. He may be petrified when he sees 
 her. Oh ! my little girl, what have you been 
 doing ? What mischief have you been brewing 
 for your little self, for when mamma hears this 
 tale I fear your joy will be of short dura 
 tion." 
 
 " I can bear any thing but separation from 
 him. That would kill me." 
 
 Matilda hid her face in Donna s dress. 
 
 " One does not die so easily," she answered, 
 somewhat bitterly. 
 
 "Will you tell her?" 
 
 " I ! No. Let the man who has captured 
 your wayward little heart undertake that mis 
 sion." 
 
 " And you are not angry with me ? " 
 
 " For falling in love? No. That is the fate 
 of foolish little things like you." 
 
 " But for becoming a Roman Catholic ? " 
 Her sweet voice fell. 
 
 " Ah ! Matilda," answered Donna, gravely. 
 " One form of religion differs little from
 
 140 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 another, and God will hear your prayers, sweet 
 heart, whatever church sanctions them." 
 
 " Mamma will not think so." 
 
 " No, mamma will not." 
 
 " I am so happy ! " exclaimed Matilda, 
 drawing a long breath. " All my life the love 
 in my heart has been repressed." 
 
 " Regulated by etiquette, darling." 
 
 " But now it knows no bounds." 
 
 " See !" cried Matilda, jumping up suddenly 
 and pointing toward the house. " There comes 
 Victor and with him no it is impossible." 
 Donna had stooped to pick a bunch of lilies 
 and was pinning them in her belt. 
 
 Victor was approaching across the lawn 
 with a fair man, of distinguished bearing. 
 
 "Look!" exclaimed Matilda, clasping her 
 hands. " It is he. Did I not tell you that he 
 was handsome? He has come for me." 
 
 But Donna did not answer. She was lean 
 ing against the great chestnut tree, her face as 
 pale as the lilies in her hand. 
 
 "No, Matilda," she gasped, "not he! It 
 can not be ! There must be some mis 
 take ! "
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 141 
 
 "It is Louis de Vere, my fiance. Donna, 
 why do you look at me so strangely? " 
 
 Donna drew herself up with an effort and 
 passed her hand over her eyes. 
 
 " It can not be," she murmured. " Tell me 
 his name again." 
 
 " It is Count Louis de Vere. Why do you 
 ask?" 
 
 " He looks like some one I knew long ago," 
 the pale lips murmured mechanically. 
 
 Victor and the Count de Vere were already 
 on the bridge. 
 
 " Where have you and Matilda hidden your 
 selves? Let me present the Count de Vere, 
 Fraulein von Konigsmark, Fraulein von Wald- 
 beck, the Count de Vere." 
 
 " I have met M. de Vere before, in Berlin," 
 said Matilda shyly. 
 
 " It is very kind of Fraulein von Waldbeck 
 to remember me," he answered somewhat 
 formally. Then he turned to Donna with a 
 ceremonious bow. Their eyes met and the 
 pallor of her face was reflected in his own. 
 
 " Fraulein von Konigsmark," he said, as if 
 waiting for her to recognize him. " Did I not
 
 142 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 have the pleasure of meeting you with the 
 late Princess Caroline a year ago ?" 
 
 "I do not recollect," she replied with cutting 
 emphasis. " A year is a long time and I have 
 met so many people."
 
 VIII. 
 
 THEY went up the graveled walk toward 
 the house, Matilda chatting artlessly 
 to Louis de Vere, while Donna walked 
 beside Victor and responded listlessly to 
 his sallies. After supper the Waldbecks 
 drove away. M. de Vere had evidently made 
 an agreeable impression on Matilda s mother, 
 for she was pleased to express herself most 
 graciously about him, and little Matilda was in 
 a flutter of excitement. Her mother had 
 exacted a promise of an early visit from the 
 Strahls, including especially Uhlheim and Mon 
 sieur de Vere. Already Matilda saw her dream 
 realized, herself forgiven, and her happiness 
 insured. Donna s horse was saddled and led 
 forth. She patted his neck and nodded in a 
 haughty way to the Count de Vere. As she 
 rode away followed by her groom, Uhlheim 
 and de Vere passed through the salon where
 
 144 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 Victor was playing cat s cradle with Berthe, 
 unmindful of the jeers of his elder sister. The 
 lamps lighted the veranda dimly, and the forest 
 loomed up dense and black beyond the lake 
 which gleamed in the light of the moon as they 
 strolled out over the lawn into the wood-path. 
 
 " W hat is the matter, Louis ? " said Uhlheim, 
 abruptly. "Where is your cynicism? I 
 thought you had a great deal to waste on me, 
 but I find your spirit crushed. What is the 
 matter? " 
 
 Count de Vere passed his hand over his 
 brow. 
 
 " It seems like a dream, Leopold," he mur 
 mured at last. " Am I really with you ? Am I 
 here in Mecklenburg ? Speak, let me hear 
 your voice." 
 
 Uhlheim seized him by the arm. 
 
 " What is it, Louis, tell me ? " 
 
 Louis de Vere s face was white with emotion. 
 
 " I am a fool. It is the old, old story " 
 
 "Es ist eine alte Geschichte 
 
 Doch bleibt sie immer neu 
 Und wem sie just passieret 
 
 Dem bricht das Herz entzwei."
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 145 
 
 " Cheer up, old man, your heart is made of 
 stronger stuff than that. Tell me all about it. 
 I don t believe it is so bad ! " 
 
 " What right have you, who are in love with 
 a shadow, to talk to me ? I loved, I trusted and 
 I was deceived. That is all ; and the experi 
 ence is not an agreeable one, nor the process 
 entirely free from pain. Ah ! fool that I was 
 to trust a woman ! " 
 
 " Tell me about the woman, and I can judge 
 better whether you apostrophized yourself cor 
 rectly." 
 
 " It is Donna von Konigsmark " 
 
 " Donna von Konigsmark ! " ejaculated Uhl- 
 heim in surprise. 
 
 "You are surprised! I met her last sum 
 mer when she was with the Princess at Carls 
 bad. I loved her. I half declared myself, and 
 I fancied she returned my love. I was a con 
 ceited ass. She was cynical about men, as she 
 had seen something of the world while travel 
 ing with the princess. I had no money. She 
 was not an heiress, but that mattered little, for 
 I was expecting promotion, and if we waited we 
 might still marry. When we parted I spoke
 
 I4& THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 openly and explained my position. She listened, 
 confessed her love for me and her willingness 
 to wait ; still I would not bind her. I left her 
 free to marry whom she chose. We were not to 
 meet nor to write, but we each promised truth 
 to the other. Listen to the sequel. Last May 
 I heard that she was engaged to young Blucher 
 of Felsenstein, a man with no brains, but rich, 
 of course, as Croesus." 
 
 Uhlheim uttered an exclamation, but Louis 
 continued : " Hear me out. I have nearly 
 done. She was free to do as she liked. I did 
 not blame her. It is the way of women now-a- 
 days to sell themselves to the highest bidder. 
 To make a long story short, I rushed wildly 
 into dissipation. I loved her. I could not for 
 get her, and the more I tried to drown my sor 
 row the more distinctly she rose before me, as 
 if to mock me. One day, it was only a month 
 ago, I met little Matilda von Waldbeck at my 
 sister s house in Berlin. She is as innocent 
 and fresh as a rose. She charmed me, and 
 I won her confidence. Almost before I realized 
 it, she had given me her simple child s heart 
 without a question. Leopold, I came here to see
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 147 
 
 her parents. I met that faithless girl face to 
 face and she cut me she cut me." 
 
 " Why not ? " rejoined Uhlheim coolly. " For 
 it is her sister Lita who is engaged to Bliicher 
 of Felsenstein. 
 
 " Her sister Lita ! " exclaimed Louis de Vere 
 in amazement. 
 
 "Donna is to all appearances as free as the 
 wind and as incredulous of man s sincerity as 
 ever. My dear fellow, you have made a fool of 
 yourself." 
 
 " She is free and I thought her false. I must 
 see her at once and explain all." 
 
 "And Matilda !" rejoined Uhlheim quietly. 
 
 "Matilda! This is a frightful dilemma. 
 What is to be done ? " 
 
 " Don t ask me." 
 
 "You are not sympathetic, but this comes of 
 being in love with an intangible being, a voice. 
 What is your state of mind now ? " 
 
 " My trouble is less serious than yours," re 
 plied Uhlheim, noticing Louis s forced com 
 posure. " I wrote you under a momentary 
 impression." 
 
 " Do you hear it now ? "
 
 148 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Where ? " 
 
 "Here!" 
 
 " Here in these woods ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Louis de Vere laughed, 
 
 " You are insane. Does any one else hear it ? " 
 
 " I have spoken of it to no one but you. 
 Listen ! " 
 
 The breeze bore a low tone of music to 
 their ears, louder it grew until the air was filled 
 with melody. 
 
 " It is unearthly," exclaimed Louis de Vere 
 with a shudder. " That is no human voice." 
 
 As they moved toward the house, it echoed 
 through the air and died a\vay. A burst of 
 mocking laughter followed. 
 
 " That is living," observed the Frenchman. 
 " That is no phantom." 
 
 A white robed figure flitted across the 
 veranda like a spirit, and a glare of light fell 
 across the open doorway as it disappeared 
 within. 
 
 " Who was that?" asked Louis, of his silent 
 companion.
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 149 
 
 " Fraulein von Rabenhorst." 
 
 " I have not met her." 
 
 " No, she was away when you came." 
 
 Uhlheim stopped in the pathway and took 
 Louis by the arm. 
 
 " Say nothing about this voice, Louis. Since 
 you have heard it I am convinced that it is not 
 hallucination. Some day I shall understand it 
 better, but now 
 
 He turned abruptly. Elsa appeared in the 
 tower window talking to Victor. 
 
 " And you pass that girl by, with her grace 
 and delicate beauty, for a voice ? " cried his com 
 panion. 
 
 Uhlheim smiled scornfully. 
 
 " She is only a beautiful shell. There 
 is no spirit dwelling there, Louis ; she could 
 never embody the voice that haunts me. No 
 living woman could utter such sounds. Don t 
 talk to me of Elsa von Rabenhorst. I detest 
 her." 
 
 " The feeling is dangerous, mon ami," argued 
 his friend. " Don t cultivate it. Indifference 
 alone is safe. Sometimes hate is the forerunner 
 of love."
 
 1 50 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 "Never! Never! " ejaculated Uhlheim with 
 
 vehemence. 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 Little Matilda von Waldbeck stood in the 
 window of her room at Waldruh looking 
 out wistfully at the drizzling rain. Her hair 
 was neatly braided and tied with a blue ribbon, 
 and she had on a blue dress with a ribbon at 
 her belt. She had put it on with joyous antici 
 pation which was crushed by the unfriendly 
 weather. 
 
 The Strahls were coming from Kartlow, the 
 Strahls and one other. She hardly dared to 
 think, much less to speak his name. They had 
 promised to drive over that afternoon. Oh, 
 if the clouds would only lift, she knew they 
 would come. She had tried hard to be very 
 good at her lessons and had practiced Mendels- 
 sohns " Spinnlied " until her head ached. 
 
 Her mother had listened and nodded ap 
 proval. She was quite sure of being asked to 
 play, and although Johanna always played with 
 out a fault, some said without expression, 
 Elsa thought that a phrase from her ringers 
 was worth a whole sonata from Johanna s ; but
 
 THE MA GIC OF A VOICE. \ 5 r 
 
 Elsa loved her and was partial. She wished to 
 play the " Brautlied " from Lohengrin, because 
 it would be suggestive. She must school her 
 self to look down and not meet Louis s eye. He 
 must devote himself to mamma. If only 
 mamma would not treat her like a child, she 
 thought and sighed ; but there was no use in 
 hoping ; the clouds would not lift, and her 
 pleasure would be spoiled. She turned away 
 to her neat little boudoir. Close beside the 
 white porcelain stove was placed a stiff chaise 
 longue, and in front of it a table covered with 
 books and knick-knacks. A fur rug covered 
 the polished floor. Beside her little mahogany 
 bed, piled high with pillows and eider-down 
 covering, stood a simple wash-stand and bu 
 reau. These and a great wardrobe completed 
 the furniture of the apartment. She drew 
 the red silk curtains over the lattice window, 
 to shut out the gloomy day, and in turning 
 back her hand brushed against a cabinet hang 
 ing on the wall, and touched a spring which 
 opened its doors, exposing to view a beauti 
 fully carved ivory crucifix. Then, with an ex 
 pression of faith almost angelic in its purity,
 
 152 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 she fell on her knees in prayer. In a few mo 
 ments a determined footstep echoed along the 
 corridor. Matilda rose hastily, closed the 
 cabinet, and stood awaiting her visitor. 
 
 The door opened to admit Johanna. 
 
 "What are you doing?" she asked suspi 
 ciously. " Mamma wants you." 
 
 " I am coming at once." 
 
 " You are to go down on the veranda with 
 your embroidery to join Fraulein." 
 
 "And you?" 
 
 " Oh, I am to sit with mamma in the salon. 
 I have not been writing mysterious notes to 
 girls older than myself, which I would not ex 
 plain." 
 
 Matilda blushed. 
 
 " You found the note ! It was unkind to tell." 
 
 Johanna put on an air of prim virtue. 
 
 " Matilda, it was my duty." 
 
 " To act as tell-tale ? " 
 
 " Mamma does not wish you to be intimate 
 with Donna. She is much older, and it is not 
 proper." 
 
 " Donna could not teach me any thing im 
 proper."
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 153 
 
 What did you mean," said Johanna, com 
 ing a step nearer, " by writing, Donna, don t 
 breathe a word of what I told you no one 
 must know it yet ? What is this mystery ? 
 Tell me ; I think you might, for I am your sister." 
 
 " The note was left in Donna s book for her. 
 It was dishonorable in you to open it." 
 
 " I took the book to Donna, but the note to 
 mamma, because I knew it was for your good. 
 There is no use in being rebellious. Mamma 
 won t forgive you unless you are penitent. It 
 pays to be penitent," added the elder sister 
 philosophically. " Mamma says she won t let 
 you go to Kartlow again for a month." 
 
 Matilda uttered an exclamation. 
 
 "That hurts, does it? Well, be penitent. 
 Don t forget my advice. Tell mamma that you 
 are very sorry, and she may forgive you. Con 
 fide your secret to me, and I will use my influ 
 ence." 
 
 Matilda pressed her hand against her beat 
 ing heart. She was very pale. 
 
 " I will not tell ! " she exclaimed passion 
 ately ; "and I will not lie. I am not penitent! 
 This is tyranny."
 
 154 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 Johanna shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 At that moment the sun burst from behind 
 the clouds and illumined the green forest. 
 
 " Ah ! the sun shines ! " cried Matilda joy 
 fully ; and all her grief was forgotten. She 
 threw open the casement and listened to the 
 singing of the birds, while Johanna looked at 
 her inquiringly. 
 
 " What shall I tell mamma ? " she asked on 
 the threshold. 
 
 " Then you did come from mamma, after all ! " 
 
 Johanna reddened under her look of con 
 tempt. 
 
 " Not directly." 
 
 " Tell her that I shall explain some time soon, 
 but not to-day and yes Johanna, tell mamma 
 that I am sorry that I vexed her. I am truly 
 sorry. Oh ! if she would only be kind to me ! " 
 
 She buried her face in her hands, and Johan 
 na turned to go. 
 
 " Silly thing ! " she ejaculated, as she shut the 
 door. 
 
 Her mother would forbid her going to 
 Kartlow for a month ! That was a terrible 
 punishment, for Louis would be gone long
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 155 
 
 before the period expired, and she was not 
 allowed to communicate with Donna. But then 
 the sun was shining. Sufficient unto the day 
 was the joy thereof. He was coming that day. 
 Let the future take care of itself! An hour 
 later the Kartlow carriages drove into the court 
 yard and she was summoned below. Frau von 
 Althaus sat on the front balcony with the mis 
 tress of Waldruh. Elsa and the Strahl girls were 
 talking with Johanna, and Herr von Waldbeck, 
 mounted on a beautiful horse which he had just 
 purchased, was riding around the driveway in 
 front of the house, talking with Uhlheim and 
 the Count de Vere at intervals, when he pulled 
 up beside them. He was enlarging on the 
 merits of his new purchase, and emphasized his 
 remarks by cracking his whip at the legs of 
 Matilda s small brothers, who were running 
 about the lawn. Matilda paused on the 
 threshold. Louis de Vere felt her appealing 
 gaze and her expression of absolute faith 
 smote him to the heart. She believed in 
 him as in her God, and he vowed to be 
 worthy of her trust. He left the group 
 hastily and advanced toward her. Impulsively
 
 156 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 she extended her hand, and he stooped to kiss 
 it reverently as he might have that of some 
 young saint. Her mother turned in surprise 
 and looked at her blushing daughter through her 
 lorgnette. Matilda understood what that accen 
 tuated survey meant. She was a girl who had 
 dared violate etiquette by offering her hand to a 
 stranger, a girl, moreover, who had not yet been 
 confirmed. 
 
 " Matilda ! Really, M. de Vere, I hope you 
 will remember that she is but a child." The 
 cutting tone was well deserved. 
 
 "You know, dear Madam de Waldbeck, that 
 your daughter and I are not entire strangers." 
 He was seeking to make some excuse for 
 Matilda, and bungled in the attempt. " She is 
 a very dear friend of my sister Janette, and I 
 saw her often in Berlin." 
 
 "Indeed!" rejoined Matilda s mother, in a 
 significant tone, and with a renewed accession 
 of short-sightedness. " I had not heard of it, 
 but I have not had an opportunity of talking 
 confidentially with my daughter since she re 
 turned from Berlin. Matilda, you may join 
 Fraulein on the back veranda."
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 157 
 
 Matilda cast one long look of reproachful 
 entreaty at Louis de Vere as she disappeared 
 in the doorway. He was silent, for he knew 
 that every word he uttered in her favor would 
 only make the sentence harsher. 
 
 Was this the mystery mentioned in Matilda s 
 clandestine note to Donna? Frau von Wald- 
 beck determined to ascertain. 
 
 " So you saw my daughter in Berlin ? " 
 
 " Yes. Janette, my sister, had the honor of 
 meeting you in Carlsbad last year." 
 
 "Of course. Janette de Vere, a very pretty 
 brunette. So she is your sister ; a charming 
 girl." 
 
 " She was very much attracted by the naivete" 
 of mademoiselle, your daughter. She is quite 
 a child, as you say." 
 
 M. de Vere assumed an air of polite indiffer 
 ence which partially quieted Frau von Wald- 
 beck s suspicions. 
 
 " What a lovely girl your elder daughter is ! " 
 continued the count. " It is quite evident that 
 she has had the advantage of association with 
 her charming mother." 
 
 Frau von Waldbeck was still susceptible to
 
 158 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 flattery and Johanna was her pride. She forgot 
 for a moment the little maid, sitting with the 
 Fraulein in banishment and waiting for a sign 
 of forgiveness. Just then the tutor appeared in 
 search of his two wild pupils. Frau von Wald- 
 beck looked up as the Herr Candidat bowed 
 and rubbed his hands obsequiously, while wait 
 ing for the royal command. HerrUhlheim, the 
 Kartlow tutor,was talking to her husband on the 
 subject of horses. He was such a contrast to the 
 plain unpretentious instructor at Waldruh that 
 she could not help smiling. Ordinarily the 
 tutors of the neighboring families fraternized 
 and compared notes as to their respective 
 duties. Habit being strong, she had it on 
 the tip of her tongue to say that Herr Schultz 
 might extend the hospitality of his study to 
 Herr Uhlheim. Evidently Herr Schultz ex 
 pected it and was waiting for the break which 
 this visit would make in the monotony of his life. 
 
 " Do you think Herr Uhlheim would like to 
 talk with Herr Schultz ?" said Frau von Wald- 
 beck in a low voice to her neighbor. 
 
 Frau von Althaus laughed. 
 
 "Are you serious? Why should he?"
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 159 
 
 " You forget that he is Victor s tutor, I verily 
 believe," was the answer, in a severe tone. 
 
 "And is he nothing more ? " exclaimed the 
 other. " No, I don t think it would amuse 
 him." 
 
 " If he can talk to Leo," returned their host 
 ess, with a short significant laugh, "he can 
 talk to any one. You may call the boys, Herr 
 Schultz," she said in a gracious tone. " And 
 we shall not require your presence at dinner 
 this evening." 
 
 Herr Schultz bowed low and withdrew, fol 
 lowed by the two reluctant boys. The Strahl 
 girls and Elsa were playing tennis with Johanna 
 behind the house. 
 
 Their voices reached Matilda as she sat on 
 the back piazza with the Fraulein and stitched 
 in silence on her medieval chair cushion. 
 What use were the sunshine and the flowers, if 
 she was always to sit still and silent while 
 her lover was within sound of her voice ! The 
 tears fell fast on her work and dimmed the face 
 of the embroidered angel and his trumpet. At 
 that moment the butler stepped to the door 
 and called the Fraulein away. Her pres-
 
 160 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 ence was required in the dining-room. As 
 she passed Matilda she looked sharply at her 
 pupil s downcast face, but the moment the door 
 closed, Matilda flung a\vay her work and 
 leaned against the lattice. 
 
 " Matilda! " 
 
 The voice startled her. Was it the echo of 
 her heart, or had he really spoken her name? 
 
 "My poor little girl! " 
 
 Ah ! there was no mistake ; the words came 
 from behind the lattice. 
 
 "Oh, Louis! If some one should see 
 you!" 
 
 "There is no danger, I am unobserved. 
 " Let me speak to your mother at once and 
 free you from this bondage?" 
 
 " Hush ! I am happy when I hear your voice. 
 Are you really there ? " 
 
 Her hand stole out to meet his, and he kissed 
 it through the lattice work. 
 
 " Poor child, give me the right to protect 
 you ; I can not bear to see you so unhappy." 
 
 "Be reasonable. Mamma would be enraged ! 
 She is angry with me now. It is enough for me 
 to know that you love me. If you didn t, life
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 161 
 
 would be wretched. I could not live without 
 your love, Louis." 
 
 And he mentally vowed that she should 
 never doubt him for an instant. Could he tell 
 her the truth in the face of such a confession? 
 
 " Mamma has forbidden my going to Kart- 
 low, but there are some things she can not con 
 trol ; the right to do so has passed from her. I 
 shall see you again, Louis, but not here. She 
 suspects already, so be very careful. I dare 
 not trust myself longer to-night. I shall go up 
 stairs. She must not know yet. Trust me, 
 for I know what is best with mamma. 
 Good-night ! God bless you and give me 
 strength to bear this trial for a little while yet. 
 Quick, someone is coming." 
 
 " Good-by, my brave little girl." 
 
 He disappeared as the Fraulein came out of 
 the house, and Matilda s eyes were fastened on 
 the distant country with a look that touched 
 even the unsympathetic nature of her gov 
 erness. 
 
 " What are you thinking about, Matilda?" 
 
 Matilda started. 
 
 " Nothing," she answered, absently. " May
 
 162 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 I go up-stairs for a little while, I have a head 
 ache? " 
 
 " I think you may." 
 
 " Will you tell mamma ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 She passed through the dining-room, and in 
 a few moments was at her casement, looking 
 out through the leafy branches of a great 
 tree which cast its friendly shade over 
 her window. Her heart ached dully. Why 
 was the world so pitiless ? Alas ! and she was 
 so young ! Was it then a crime to love ? The 
 clock struck five. It was the dinner hour at 
 Waldruh. She wondered whether the Fraulein 
 would excuse her successfully, but the pompous 
 butler knocked at the door, and her hopes 
 were dispelled. 
 
 " The gnadige Frau sends for the gnadiges 
 Fraulein, and desires her presence at once." 
 
 There was nothing for it but to obey. 
 
 A dinner at Waldruh was a solemn and cere 
 monious affair. There were many stiff trained 
 servants in attendance, one for every two 
 guests. The high-backed dining chairs were 
 carved, as was the wainscoting of the room.
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 163 
 
 The walls were somber, but the faces of 
 bygone generations looked down with a levity 
 which seemed almost indecorous ; for the 
 lords of Waldruh had been jolly squires, with 
 no serious thought beyond the hunt. It 
 was only under the regime of the present 
 baroness that laughter was hushed to awe, and 
 the family spoke in whispers. Herr von Wald- 
 beck was at the head of the table, with Frau 
 von Althaus on his right. On either side of 
 the hostess sat Uhlheim and the Count de Vere. 
 Victor engrossed Elsa s attention to the best 
 of his ability. Johanna entertained the master 
 of Tatow, their neighbor, who, rumor said, was 
 looked upon with favor by Johanna s mother as 
 a possible son-in-law. The conversation was 
 animated and the laughter general. The mis 
 tress was in good humor, forgetting to snub 
 her husband when he made occasional feeble 
 jokes. Never had the atmosphere of Waldruh 
 seemed so clear. It was all due to Louis s 
 influence, Matilda thought, to the charm of his 
 manner. Her mother did not look at her, and 
 Louis hardly dared to turn his eyes in her 
 direction. The dinner ended, the ladies
 
 164 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 adjourned to the salon, where a grand piano 
 stood open, while the gentlemen lingered but a 
 few minutes over their wine, contrary to their 
 usual custom. 
 
 " You will play the Spinnlied," whispered 
 Frau von Waldbeck to Matilda. 
 
 "Yes, mamma." 
 
 She would stumble through it and be dis 
 graced, but she bowed in despair to the inev 
 itable. Elsa joined her in the corner, where 
 she was looking over some photographs. 
 
 " Don t be frightened, Matilda. Don t think 
 about it and it will go beautifully." 
 
 " I wish you would play for me." 
 
 " I haven t played for six months. Don t 
 suggest it." 
 
 The thought of playing before Uhlheim 
 filled Elsa with terror. She knew her own 
 nature so well. As long as she had herself 
 under control, it was well, but music let 
 loose all the passionate longing which she 
 dreaded to show him. Now that a barrier 
 raised by her reserve, separated them, she 
 dared not trifle with herself for fear it might be 
 overthrown by a touch of her slender fingers
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 165 
 
 on the keys. The gentlemen had joined the 
 ladies, and were talking in a desultory way. 
 A pause ensued and then Matilda heard her 
 mother s voice saying : 
 
 " Johanna, give us a little music." 
 
 Johanna left the group of girls, who had 
 been admiring her cushion, which was fin 
 ished, pressed and ready to make up. She 
 approached the piano led by the Count de Vere, 
 seated herself, shook out her dress and ran her 
 white fingers over the keys. Then she played 
 one of Liszt s Rhapsodies Hongroises with 
 mathematical precision. There was no quiver 
 ing or uncertainty in Johanna s touch. 
 
 "She didn t turn a hair!" was her father s 
 comment as she finished and complacently 
 bowed acknowledgment to the applause that 
 followed. 
 
 "Now, Matilda." 
 
 "Yes, mamma ! " 
 
 Her hands were cold and nerveless. 
 
 " The Spinnlied." 
 
 " Please let me play something else." 
 
 " The Spinnlied," in a tone of cold dis 
 pleasure.
 
 1 66 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 " Very well." 
 
 She began the Spinnlied of Mendelssohn. 
 Her head swam, her fingers sought the keys 
 feebly. She stumbled over a few bars and then 
 broke down. 
 
 " Matilda, how can you disgrace yourself so ? 
 That simple little piece, why, you played it 
 perfectly two hours ago." 
 
 " Yes, mamma ; I am sorry," she replied, 
 with a faint smile as she turned her pale face 
 toward her angry mother. 
 
 " Pardon me," interposed Uhlheim, "but the 
 Spinnlied of Mendelssohn is one of his most 
 difficult compositions. Fraulein Matilda, if 
 you can play it well, you are to be congrat 
 ulated. You are nervous now, but when that 
 is overcome your playing will be charming." 
 
 " Thank you, Herr Uhlheim," answered 
 Matilda, with a grateful smile. " You are good. 
 Mamma, will you excuse me ? " 
 
 She rose as she spoke, but her disdainful 
 mother did not raise her eyes. 
 
 The child s heart contracted with sudden 
 pain, she took a step forward and fell in a 
 faint at her mother s feet. In a moment
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 167 
 
 every thing was in confusion. Her mother 
 lifted her quickly, and when she regained con 
 sciousness, and saw anxious faces bending over 
 her, with a glad cry she threw both her arms 
 around her mother s neck, crying: 
 
 "Oh ! mother, mother," and burst into tears. 
 
 They carried her from the room. Shortly 
 after Frau von Waldbeck reappeared, explain 
 ing with a shrug of her shoulders that Matilda 
 had an attack of " nerves ", and would soon be 
 better. 
 
 "Won t you play now ? " urged Victor, in a 
 low voice to Elsa. 
 
 " No, don t ask me," she answered hurriedly. 
 
 " It will smooth this over if you will," he 
 added. " Uhlheim here is dying to hear you. 
 He says he can read people through their 
 music." 
 
 " I have no desire to have him read me," she 
 answered. 
 
 " I don t think I should learn much of Frau- 
 lein von Rabenhorst through her music," said 
 Uhlheim coldly. 
 
 It seemed a challenge to her. How eagerly 
 she longed to touch the piano again, and show
 
 i68 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 her power. Through music she could make his 
 heart throb with the passion that filled her 
 own, but she did not dare. The day would 
 come for her to reveal herself through music, 
 but not until the barrier between them should be 
 insurmountable.
 
 IX. 
 
 HAT evening, as they were driving home, 
 Berthe, Sophie and Victor chatted volubly, 
 but Elsa was silent. 
 
 The scene they had just witnessed rose before 
 her, and Matilda s appealing cry still rang in 
 her ears. She thought of her own mother with 
 tenderness, and wondered what she herself 
 might have become with such training. Prob 
 ably rebellious and sullen. The Strahls dis 
 cussed the situation freely, and commented 
 upon it in terms not particularly complimen 
 tary to their late hostess. 
 
 "And where was Caroline?" asked Victor. 
 
 " She was carefully kept in the background. 
 " You know she made a mesalliance" remarked 
 Berthe. 
 
 "Oh, of course, and so she is not exhibited 
 except on state occasions," added Victor. " She 
 retires to the school-room and dines with the 
 Fraulein, the tutor and the boys."
 
 170 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 " Was she not the lady whose daughter was 
 debarred convent privileges because the noble 
 line of sixteen generations had been broken by 
 plebeian blood ? " asked Uhlheim. 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 "You were particularly impressed with the 
 enormity of her crime, if I remember correctly, 
 gracious Fraulein ? " 
 
 His words aroused Elsa from her reverie. 
 
 " Oh, Caroline, I had forgotten her ! " 
 
 If he chose to think her heartless, she would 
 not undeceive him. 
 
 "Caroline was ill," protested Frau von 
 Althaus. "You are unjust, I am sure. Frau 
 von Waldbeck is kind to her. Why should she 
 banish her? " 
 
 "Andrew are charitable," remarked Louis 
 de Vere ; " for judging from the way she treats 
 her daughter, her kindness might be ques 
 tioned." 
 
 They drove on in silence for some time. It 
 was a clear, starlight night. The sunset still 
 lingered and lighted the gray clouds with red 
 like a distant fire. 
 
 " What a lovely night ! " observed Frau von
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 171 
 
 Althaus. "It is almost like a night in 
 Italy." 
 
 " You should see it in winter," said Elsa. 
 " Those fields are piled high with snow, and we 
 often have to stop and dig out the roads before 
 we can proceed on our way, while the winds 
 sweep over the plains with the sharpness of 
 death." 
 
 " Yes," added Berthe, with a shudder. " The 
 north wind breathes destruction." 
 
 " Give me the soft air of my adopted land 
 Italy," said Victor. 
 
 " You rebel," protested Leopold ; " what 
 right have you to an adopted country? Meck 
 lenburg claims you." 
 
 " Yes, because by accident I have lands here. 
 On the whole, I don t think I care for lands. 
 They hamper one. I am obliged to get per 
 mission from the grand duke to live away so 
 much, and I get it solely because of my health, 
 but Mecklin says it is ruinous to my interests." 
 
 " How can you deny your inheritance ? " pro 
 tested his aunt. " Are you adopting some of 
 Herr Uhlheim s radical notions ? This won t do 
 for a land-owner."
 
 172 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 " It would be better if there were no entail," 
 remarked Leopold ; " for if your property were 
 in money you would be much more inde 
 pendent." 
 
 " After all I would not give up my ancestral 
 halls for all the money in the world." 
 
 " Bravo ! " exclaimed Louis de Vere. 
 
 "Oh ! you are all wrong. Money is power! " 
 
 " I use to write in my copy book when I was 
 a child that knowledge was power," said Victor. 
 " But knowledge seems to me more difficult 
 to attain than wealth. I should have been in 
 a bad way if my progenitor had not provided 
 for me. I don t think I could have done much 
 for myself either way." 
 
 " You would be nothing without money. 
 How could you till the soil? No, money is 
 power," reiterated Uhlheim. 
 
 " Money can not buy the distinction that gen 
 erations have transmitted to us," interposed 
 Elsa, with enthusiasm. " It is grand to bear 
 an old name with its entail of honor." 
 
 How she hated what she was pleased to term 
 Uhlheim s plebeian instincts! 
 
 " To be honest must one necessarily have a
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE, 173 
 
 line of noble ancestors, gracious Fraulein ? 
 How many honest and able men there are who, 
 boasting no ancestry and unhampered by tradi 
 tion, strike for themselves and make themselves 
 respected by their own merit. They enforce 
 recognition even from these lords of creation, 
 whose only claim to recognition rests on the 
 laurels of some long-forgotten ancestor. What 
 is the superiority of the lord over the self-made 
 man ? Is it because a king in long-forgotten 
 times dubbed his ancestor knight? Did that 
 enhance his value ? No, the brave act which 
 enforced recognition by knighthood ennobled 
 him, not the king s favor. In those days a 
 knight was little better than a marauder; in 
 these, he has become the gentleman far 
 mer. He tills his lands ; he sells the produce 
 thereof. He sells but he is not a merchant. 
 Oh, no ! the merchant is beneath his notice, 
 but at the same time he sells. He takes money 
 for his grain. Is it because the merchant pays 
 him money that he is inferior, or because he is 
 not so well educated ? I never heard that educa 
 tion was a standard of excellence among the 
 nobility. No. Superiority lies in the individ-
 
 174 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 ual, be he lord or serf. It is not a question of 
 class, and Victor here is a farmer. Nothing 
 more. Not a very good one, I fancy, but still 
 that is his trade. Eh ! Victor ? " Victor 
 laughed. 
 
 " You can make black white," he answered 
 evasively. " You should have been a lawyer." 
 
 " For the present I am content to be your 
 tutor, and find my time fully occupied by the 
 duties of my office." 
 
 " But you can not upset the traditions of race 
 so lightly," interposed Elsa, " even if a man 
 rest on the laurels his ancestor has won. It is 
 something to be the son of a distinguished man, 
 however ; the name his distinguished father 
 bequeathed him should be a cherished inherit 
 ance, which he in turn is in honor bound to 
 transmit untarnished to his sons." 
 
 " Can one not be great in himself ? " replied 
 Uhlheim more gently. There was something 
 in the bearing of this proud girl that touched 
 his sympathy. If only her pride would bend, 
 might not the spirit, whose very existence he 
 doubted, rise and fill her being like the light of 
 an alabaster lamp.
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 175 
 
 " What do you think of Napoleon ? " 
 
 " He was a giant," she returned. " The 
 world is full of pigmies." 
 
 " He, too, was vulnerable. Ambition to ally 
 himself with kings was his undoing. When 
 the people placed the laurel he had justly won 
 upon his brow, he was not satisfied." 
 
 " True ! But he was a pretender." 
 
 " Then you do not think a man of obscure 
 birth can raise himself to the level of kings? " 
 
 " No. I believe in the divine right of kings. 
 Napoleon was punished for his presumption. 
 One expects nothing of the people, but noblesse 
 oblige . The nobleman who stains the honor 
 able name inherited as a trust, is contemptible." 
 
 Elsa s voice vibrated with feeling. She felt 
 Leopold s eyes on her and trembled with 
 fear. Had she betrayed herself ? Until now, 
 she had held herself under perfect control, 
 presenting to him and the world a calm 
 exterior. But a shade of arrogance in his 
 tone had impelled her to defend her caste, and 
 this impulse had carried her away. 
 
 " She would have died for her faith in the 
 old days," he thought, " and have met the lion
 
 IT 6 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 with a smile." But she was shut out from him 
 by a barrier as high as the stars. 
 
 "This was why I censured Caroline," she 
 continued steadily, as though fearing his influ 
 ence. " She forgot the dignity due her name 
 in marrying beneath her." 
 
 " She was human. She loved." 
 
 " She had no right to love him" 
 
 " You are hard." 
 
 " I am just." 
 
 "Would you have forgiven her if he had 
 been noble, brave, admirable in himself ? " 
 
 " He was hopelessly commonplace." 
 
 " And doubtless so was she." 
 
 " Yes ! " 
 
 " What a pity that the king knighted her 
 father and burdened her with a title, otherwise 
 they might have been happy in a hum-drum 
 way ; for if they were both commonplace, they 
 were on equal footing." 
 
 He could not refrain from chaffing her a lit 
 tle. 
 
 " She should have considered her family." 
 
 " I can not understand these considerations. 
 A man does not marry the family."
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 177 
 
 "A man raises his wife to his own level, but 
 a woman sinks to her husband s level." 
 
 " If I loved a woman," cried Uhlheim, pas 
 sionately, " nothing should stand in the way of 
 my marrying her. Such obstacles would top 
 ple over like card houses. Caste ! nonsense ! 
 I don t believe in it. Nothing but her will 
 would check me, and I fancy the strength of my 
 love would overcome even that." 
 
 Elsa trembled. This was the love of 
 which she had dreamed when seated in the 
 tower at Rabenhorst, overlooking the wild 
 waves. But her ideal had been a mailed 
 knight like those hanging in her father s 
 ancestral halls, not a burgher and a radical. 
 His deep voice rang in her ear. Her whole 
 nature drooped toward him. Why did fate 
 torment her with longing for a man so far 
 beneath her in station? A voice within her 
 struggled for utterance, crying, " Sweep down 
 the barrier of pride." 
 
 "Remember who you are and beware," 
 argued her pride. 
 
 " I congratulate you on your enthusiasm," 
 she said, coldly. " But it seems to me that it
 
 1 78 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 would not be difficult for you to find a suitable 
 wife in your own class where there would be no 
 obstacles to overcome." 
 
 At any cost she must free herself from a sub 
 ject that was becoming dangerous. He looked 
 as though she had struck him, and then he 
 gathered the full force of her meaning. She, 
 the great lady, thought him presumptuous, and 
 he hated her with an intensity greater than 
 before. 
 
 " Class ! " he echoed coldly. " To me there 
 is but one standard ; that of refinement. The 
 woman of my choice must have both heart and 
 gentleness, wherever chance may have placed 
 her. A heartless woman in any class is safe 
 from me, for she would be obnoxious to me." 
 
 His breath caught as he finished, and his 
 face was white with passion. 
 
 " Now," she thought, " he despises me." 
 
 This thought was quickly followed by the 
 fear that he might fancy she had found a per 
 sonal application in his words. Her pride took 
 alarm. How could she undeceive him ? His 
 face was turned away, his clear cut profile stood 
 out against the moonlit fields. Suddenly he
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 179 
 
 bared his head to the summer breeze. His 
 thin lips were compressed, and his nostrils 
 quivered. He raised his head and folding his 
 arms proudly, looked far away from her, over 
 the distant landscape. At last he turned 
 toward her deliberately, and in those dark 
 eyes that were capable of expressing burning 
 passion, she read defiance almost contempt. 
 Her eyes fell. Had she the right to judge him 
 by a common standard ? Was he not king in 
 his own right ? Could any king be prouder, 
 braver or truer to his convictions? But there 
 was a barrier between them, the barrier of pride. 
 
 They drove past a small pond and up a 
 steep hill. The horses fell into a walk. The 
 moon cast its reflection in the water, bringing 
 to view a hut which had been hidden in the 
 shadow. A yelping dog alone broke the still 
 ness that surrounded them. 
 
 " This place reminds me of a story," said 
 Leopold. 
 
 "Oh! tell us!" cried Berthe and Sophie 
 Strahl in concert. " We were nearly asleep." 
 
 "A story! A ghost story! How charm 
 ing !" added Victor.
 
 180 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 " After all, you may not find it interesting, 
 but you shall judge," answered Uhlheim. 
 
 "There was once a man with an ideal. He 
 was of average intelligence and ability.. He 
 was not given to dreams nor was he unprac 
 tical, and he had wealth and ambition. Sud 
 denly his wealth melted away and his life 
 seemed to degenerate into drudgery. He was 
 depressed. One night he found himself on 
 the edge of a small pond, like the one we just 
 passed. He was reviewing his unhappy expe 
 riences, lost in reverie at the changes fate had 
 brought him. Suddenly a voice rose on the 
 stillness. A woman s voice, pure, resonant 
 and beautiful. It sang of love and woe, and he 
 forgot his disappointment as he listened. 
 The melody breathed a hope so consoling 
 that it filled his heart with peace. He turned 
 to grasp the woman singing beside him ; the 
 voice ascended like a bird and soared above 
 the earth, floating away to be lost in silence. 
 He wandered on, the voice followed, still 
 beyond his reach, and entered into his life 
 forever after. He looked about him for the 
 woman to embody the ideal evoked by the
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 181 
 
 magic melody in vain. He looked hopefully 
 into the eyes of every woman he met. Some 
 times he thought he discerned the soul that 
 eluded him, but with a sigh of despair he turned 
 away. She existed solely in his imagination. 
 He dreamed of her at night, only to meet dis 
 appointment. He grew morbid. Try as he 
 might, he could not forget. Possibly he might 
 have been content to choose some lower spirit, 
 had he never had a glimpse of his ideal. 
 Descent was impossible." 
 
 " And how did it end ? " asked Sophie. 
 
 " By his going mad ! " answered Leopold, 
 abruptly. 
 
 " And what had he hoped to give in return 
 for so much perfection ? " asked Elsa, with a 
 touch of irony. " Did he think the ideal would 
 fall into his arms, simply because he appreciated 
 her perfection ? He was a man of average 
 ability, without wealth, of an uncertain future, 
 and she a spirit of the air. It would have been 
 a very unequal match, and I think your hero 
 was unreasonable." 
 
 "Yes, he was like most men," returned Leo 
 pold. " But for her he could have accomplished
 
 182 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 any thing. He could have moved the earth. 
 She would have been an incentive to effort." 
 
 Elsa smiled. 
 
 " It is as well that he went mad," she said, 
 but her eyes shone like stars, and she smiled to 
 herself again. 
 
 "Are you possessed ?" exclaimed the Count 
 de Vere, in a low tone to Leopold. 
 
 "I could not help it. The impulse was 
 unconquerable." 
 
 But Elsa s words sank deep. What was he 
 but an idler? He was of no use in the world. 
 He had never done any thing to entitle him 
 to a place above the average. Then he looked 
 up at the starlit sky, and thought that the 
 woman whose voice had stirred him was dead, 
 and he would never meet another like her. 
 How could Elsa s scorn affect him? Soon he 
 should leave Mecklenburg with its disdainful 
 ladies far behind him. Even the voice would 
 not haunt him among men, if ever he should 
 have the energy to fight his way and secure a 
 footing where the weak and the indolent were 
 sure to go to the wall. 
 
 That night when he closed his window,
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 183 
 
 the voice ascended in triumphant tones, as 
 though conscious of its power, and wove a net 
 work of magic around his heart that terrified 
 him. He shut his ears and bade it begone for 
 ever, for he knew that he must conquer its 
 influence or go mad; but still it surged through 
 his brain. The next morning he asked Victor 
 whether any thing had disturbed his slumbers 
 the night before. 
 
 " Only the old watchman intoning the hour 
 in a very sleepy voice," replied Victor. " I 
 must really get a new watchman : the old one 
 may drop off in his sleep some night, and let us 
 go to destruction without warning." 
 
 "You heard nothing else?" 
 
 " Nothing but the hooting of an owl, Herr 
 Uhlheim. I hope you are not getting super 
 stitious at your time of life. There are tales 
 of spirits lurking in the shadows of the park, 
 but that is old woman s talk. Did you ever 
 hear the story of our Hexe ? She was a very 
 bold and forward maid, who tried to fascinate an 
 ancestor of ours. He, not being susceptible, 
 set a trap for her and caught her by her golden 
 hair. She screamed, and called on all the spirits
 
 184 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 of the air to help her; but she had been a self 
 ish, malicious sprite, and they were only too 
 glad to have her caught. To punish her 
 audacity, my stern old ancestor entombed her 
 in the bark of the great oak out in the park, 
 and the old women say that she still wails 
 there. I never heard her, for she is always 
 silent in the presence of a Strahl ; but when she 
 cries and sings, danger is supposed to hover 
 over us. They say she has been singing during 
 these stormy nights, but I think it is the hoot 
 ing of the owls. I don t believe in such non 
 sense, do you, Herr Uhlheim?" 
 
 " Of course not," returned Uhlheim, steadily ; 
 but he walked away with a strange tremor in 
 his heart, for her wailing cry had resounded in 
 his ears, and the Hexe had cast her wiles about 
 him. He did not believe in the supernatural, 
 but he did believe the evidence of his senses. 
 The mournful strain of her song was real, 
 though he knew not whence it came.
 
 X. 
 
 TWO or three days of rain followed at Kart- 
 low, and the Schloss was comparatively shut 
 out from the world. Uhlheim and the Count 
 de Vere were much together ; Victor s lessons 
 were stopped for the week. A necessary relaxa 
 tion, Victor claimed, but his aunt shook her 
 head doubtfully. Nothing had been seen of 
 Donna since she galloped through the village on 
 the evening of Louis de Vere s arrival. How 
 ever, the rain accounted for her non-appearance. 
 Who could weather such a storm excepting 
 on a journey of life or death ! The Strahl girls 
 knitted and embroidered. Somebody s fete 
 day was at hand an old " Tante s " to whom it 
 would be highly disrespectful to offer any gift 
 except one of their own handiwork. The third 
 day, when they were all tired of their enforced 
 imprisonment, and bored by each other s 
 society, Elsa ventured forth in the evening
 
 1 86 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 by herself. She went only as far as the park, 
 during an interval when the clouds lifted, but 
 the chilly air made her shiver, and she con 
 tracted a cold which kept her confined to her 
 room for several days ; at last the sun reappeared, 
 to find the grass and leaves refreshed by his 
 temporary absence. The lawn was like velvet, 
 and the birds sang joyously. Every thing and 
 every body hailed the change with joy. Early 
 in the morning Donna drove over to Kartlow 
 in the phaeton. She found Elsa lying on the 
 chaise longue in her room, dressed in a white cash 
 mere wrapper and looking pale and ill. Donna s 
 glowing color had disappeared. Her eyes 
 were heavy with care, possibly with weep 
 ing. 
 
 " I heard you were ill, dear," she said, as she 
 entered Elsa s room, " and I could not stay 
 away." 
 
 "Why should you think of staying away 
 from me ? " 
 
 " There is really no reason," answered 
 Donna evasively. " I thought I had been too 
 much at Kartlow lately. What is the matter 
 with you ? "
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 187 
 
 " Nothing a cold. This dampness is enough 
 to make one ill." 
 
 " Yes, and you could not have a fire in that 
 porcelain stove. The English open grate is so 
 much more cheerful. It feels chilly here 
 now." 
 
 " But the sun is glorious. I should like to go 
 out." 
 
 " Come ! " 
 
 " To-morrow. Tante Althaus sent for the 
 doctor and he prescribed " 
 
 " Now don t tell me that he prescribed," cried 
 Donna lifting her hands in protest. " Probably 
 a course of twenty-one baths of sea salt ; and he 
 compared you to a sea nymph or some other 
 impossible creature. He is a fossil, but what 
 can one expect of a man who doctors by the 
 year! He must necessarily be a machine, as he 
 regards his visit to you as one of a course. 
 There can be no originality in his treatment. 
 Old Steiner has brought us all into the world, 
 and soon will assist us all out of it unless a 
 kind Providence forestalls him by removing 
 him from this mortal sphere." 
 
 " Oh ! Donna, " interrupted Elsa laughing,
 
 1 88 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 " how severe you are. He prescribed only 
 rest." 
 
 " What have you been doing to need rest ? 
 On the contrary, you lazy girl, you need 
 exercise. Get in a glow ; that will do you good. 
 This comes of living with Semi-Italians who 
 never move unless a thunderstorm or a whirl 
 wind dislodges them." 
 
 " You are equal to any whirlwind," said Elsa, 
 languidly. " I haven t the strength to move." 
 
 "When do you begin the baths?" 
 
 Elsa laughed. 
 
 "Then he did order them!" exclaimed 
 Donna in a tone of triumph. " Oh ! I know 
 him of old. It won t do you a bit of good 
 to go down into that gloomy stone bath 
 room." 
 
 " Picturesque as a Roman bath." 
 
 "Oh! It is on the wrong side of the house, 
 lighted by an iron barred window like a cell, 
 and no sun." 
 
 " Don t be alarmed, Donna. I don t think I 
 shall complete the Kur, as I have had a letter 
 from papa. He will soon be back." 
 
 " I am sorry."
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 189 
 
 " I am glad. I long for the " Heimath " and 
 the sea. I have been here six weeks." 
 
 " Did they seem long ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! But I wonder what the old Frau- 
 lein has been doing without me. I long for 
 my piano and the sound of the surf breaking 
 against the rocks under my window. Heine 
 too 
 
 " Don t say any thing about Heine," inter 
 rupted Donna laughing. " I can see him from 
 this tower window down near the stables with 
 Herr Uhlheim. They have saddled the pony 
 and Heine is riding up and down, while Herr 
 Uhlheim leads the horse. He is perfectly 
 happy. Now they are trotting a little." 
 
 " He will fall ! He will fall ! " cried Elsa, 
 rushing to join Donna at the window. " Oh ! 
 if any thing should happen to him ! " 
 
 " Calm yourself, Elsa ; while Herr Uhlheim is 
 there nothing can happen. His hand is as 
 strong and steady " 
 
 "As a groom s," supplemented Elsa, scorn 
 fully. 
 
 " Why are you so bitter ? What has he done to 
 you ? You treat him coldly; you hardly speak
 
 190 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 a civil word to him ; I am sure he is much more 
 entertaining than half the men one meets at 
 court. 
 
 " Indeed ! Has he attracted you so much ? 
 He never enters my mind. He is Victor s 
 tutor. I am not accustomed to waste much 
 thought on a man in his position." 
 
 " I won t argue with you," rejoined Donna, 
 with indignation. " That man is no ordinary 
 tutor." 
 
 " I am glad to hear that he is an extra 
 ordinary one, for Victor s sake," replied Elsa, 
 leaning back upon her pillows. 
 
 " Elsa sarcastic ! What has developed this 
 trait ? " 
 
 " Being shut up in the house three days 
 while the wind howled outside. Don t talk 
 about me. Tell me about yourself." 
 
 " Now they are walking together," continued 
 Donna, still looking out of the window. " He 
 has Heine by the hand, and they are talking 
 about the storks. Heine points with one little 
 hand to the storks nest on the laundry, and 
 the big stork is soaring overhead. Why he 
 has alighted beside them, and is feeding from
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 191 
 
 Heine s hand. What a pretty picture. What 
 a glorious man that is ! He is as handsome as 
 a demigod ; Elsa, come quick, and look ! " 
 
 " You forget yourself," replied Elsa, coldly. 
 " Come away from the window, and leave them 
 to themselves. What would he think if he 
 should look up and see you ?" 
 
 " Who ? Heine. He would laugh 
 
 " No, the other- 
 Donna laughed. 
 
 "The other! So you won t even mention 
 his name." 
 
 " Don t talk to me of him ! " cried Elsa, pas 
 sionately. " I will not think of him. I hate 
 him." 
 
 "Indeed ! " rejoined Donna, looking toward 
 her. " That is serious." 
 
 " Donna, I am ill. I can not bear this strain. 
 Tell me " 
 
 " Now, he is patting the stork. Some one is 
 coming to join them, Elsa! " 
 
 Donna started back suddenly from the win 
 dow, and then added in a changed voice : " I 
 thought Monsieur dc Verc had gone 
 
 " Oh ! no ; he remains some time yet."
 
 1 92 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 " You went to Waldruh ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "How is Matilda?" 
 
 " She didn t seem well. She fainted while 
 we were there." 
 
 " Poor child ! Her mother will kill her." 
 
 Donna rose. 
 
 " Where are the Strahl girls? " she asked. 
 
 " Out walking in the park." 
 
 " I think I will try and find them. You will 
 come down for dinner?" 
 
 "Perhaps, but you will be back again soon?" 
 
 ""Probably in half an hour." 
 
 Donna closed the door. The close air of the 
 tower chamber stifled her. Louis knew that 
 she was there ; her phaeton was in the stables ; 
 but she could not meet him. She must avoid 
 all chance of that. Indeed, had she thought him 
 still at Kartlow, she would not have ventured 
 there, even to see Elsa. She hurried down the 
 broad staircase, out through the veranda door, 
 over the lawn. Neither Berthe nor Sophie 
 Strahl was in sight. She gained the bridge 
 leading to the island. No one was there, and 
 the seat beneath the great chestnut tree looked
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 193 
 
 cool and inviting. The insects buzzed dreamily. 
 Every thing had come out to see the sun. As 
 she reached the bench, a man appeared in the 
 lime-walk beyond the tennis-court and looked 
 sharply toward the pond. He hesitated* a 
 moment, and then walked rapidly in her direc 
 tion. It was Louis de Vere, and the interview 
 that she had feared seemed imminent. 
 
 As Donna sat under the tree, lost in thought, 
 a little boat appeared up the stream, making 
 its way toward the pond. In it was seated a girl, 
 whose face was shaded by a broad Leghorn hat. 
 She paddled lazily along, stopping now and 
 then to gather the half-open water lilies, and 
 stretched out her hands and fed the swans 
 as they encircled her boat. Sunshine was 
 on her flaxen braids, and in her heart joy 
 at the prospect of meeting one she loved. 
 
 As Louis de Vere came over the bridge, she 
 neared the island, and drifted noiselessly 
 through the long grass beyond. 
 
 He paused a moment, and looked down into 
 the swift current. Donna leaned against 
 the tree, forming, in her pliant attitude, a picture 
 to rivet the attention of any man. She wore
 
 194 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 a sateen dress, the principal tone of which 
 was yellow. Her head was covered with a 
 rough straw hat, trimmed with a great bow 
 of red ribbon, and a bunch of red roses 
 was fastened at her belt. Her face was 
 averted. She had seen neither Matilda as 
 she floated by, nor the man on the bridge, 
 whom she wished to avoid. He looked at her, 
 as though to impress the picture indelibly on 
 his memory. 
 
 "Donna !" 
 
 She started to her feet, and turned very 
 pale. 
 
 " Monsieur de Vere ! " 
 
 " What shall I say to you ? " 
 
 " Nothing. There is nothing to say. Why 
 have you sought me out ? You were free. 
 There is nothing more to say! " 
 
 She waved him back with a gesture, and sank 
 on the bench in agitation. 
 
 "There is a great deal to say, a great deal to 
 explain, if you will listen," he began quietly. 
 
 " You have no right to explain, and I have no 
 right to listen," she rejoined, rising abruptly 
 and facing him. " Let me pass."
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 195 
 
 " Not yet," he said, firmly, as he barred her 
 way. 
 
 "You would not keep me against my will?" 
 
 " In justice hear me, Donna," he pleaded. 
 " We have our lives to live. Do not let us em 
 bitter them unnecessarily. You judge me 
 harshly now. You think me false, and worthy 
 of your contempt. I must speak. I have 
 been wrong ; I have been hasty ; but I have 
 not been willfully false to you. Oh ! my darling, 
 it was all a mistake. Do you not see how hard 
 it is? Do you not know that I love you 
 madly, more than ever before? The very 
 fact that I am bound makes me a thou 
 sand times more wretched." 
 
 "Monsieur de Vere," interrupted Donna, 
 " put an end to this farce. Your confes 
 sion only arouses my scorn. There can be no 
 question of love between you and me. From 
 the day you asked Matilda to be your wife, you 
 raised a barrier between us stronger than 
 death. Stronger, I say ; for had you died I 
 could have mourned you, but now you are 
 worse than dead to me." 
 
 " Donna ! you are right. The fault was
 
 196 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 mine alone. Your harshest words can not 
 be too strong to express my feeling against 
 myself. I curse the day I saw her. I curse my 
 own stupidity. I do not come to you seek 
 ing to undo the past. It is too late. I come 
 to explain my folly. As for that poor child, she 
 must never know ; she must be spared all pain." 
 
 "You sacrificed me to her. I had the first 
 right. You did not think of me," cried Donna, 
 bitterly. 
 
 " Donna, I love you. If she knew the truth 
 it would kill her. She must never have the 
 faintest suspicion that I do not love her." 
 
 " Why, then, did you sacrifice her life ? " cried 
 Donna, scornfully. "Why did you sacrifice 
 three lives? Was it caprice? Tell me. No. It 
 can not be undone. It can never be undone, 
 for I have lost my faith in you eternally." 
 
 She threw herself upon the bench exhausted. 
 
 "Donna," he resumed, "when I look at 
 you my explanation seems weak and incompre 
 hensible. I wonder at myself ; I wonder how I 
 could have been so mad. I don t deserve your 
 forgiveness, but I love you, and shall to the 
 end, no matter what you think of me."
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 197 
 
 Donna buried her face in her hands and 
 turned away. 
 
 " I heard last June," he went on, " that 
 you were engaged to young Bliicher." 
 
 She started up and looked at him with sur 
 prise and reproach. 
 
 " We had had no communication for months ; 
 the source of my information seemed trust 
 worthy. It was the general supposition at the 
 capital, and I accepted it as fact. I suf 
 fered intolerably. . I thought you false, as 
 you have thought me since we met on this 
 island a week ago. When we met, your scorn 
 was written on your face, and I saw that you 
 knew of my engagement to Matilda. I intended 
 merely to follow your example in betrothing 
 myself. Imagine my horror, when I learned 
 from Uhlheim that it was your sister Lita who 
 was engaged to young Bliicher. But it was too 
 late. To be sure I had not spoken to Matilda s 
 father ; still I was in honor bound. Could I 
 betray that child s loving heart ? Never. I 
 loved you ; I had never loved you more ; 
 but I had already given my word to another. 
 You may heap reproaches upon me for my lack
 
 198 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 of faith in you. Would that I could make 
 amends ! Don t you know that it is ten times 
 harder for me, my darling, for I alone am to 
 blame ? " He threw himself on the grass 
 at her feet, and kissed her hand passion, 
 ately. 
 
 Donna raised her head and looked at him. 
 All anger had disappeared. 
 
 " Louis," she said, with a broken voice, " you 
 should have trusted me. I can say no more. 
 How little you knew me how very little ! No, 
 I won t add to your unhappiness by reproaches. 
 It would do no good. Matilda is as dear to 
 me as if she were my sister. Yes, we must 
 part forever ! " 
 
 She smiled pathetically, and extended her 
 hand. 
 
 " I forgive you for doubting me, Louis," she 
 continued. " Faith is very rare in this world. 
 I dare say I shall get over it. One s heart 
 doesn t break so easily." 
 
 "Don t, Donna! Don t be bitter. Any 
 thing but that ! " 
 
 And why not? It is true, women do not 
 die of love, except in books."
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 199 
 
 A low moan was borne across the water, but 
 they did not heed it. 
 
 "You must go !" 
 
 "We shall be friends?" 
 
 " Friends ! Why not ? Will not Matilda 
 stand between us?" 
 
 Again came the faint cry, this time more 
 distant ; but it did not reach their ears. 
 
 "Go!" cried Donna. "The tower clock is 
 striking. They will be back soon. Louis, 
 don t think of me ! Think rather of the child 
 who is the victim of this mistake. As for me, 
 I shall get used to seeing you with another. 
 Oh! what had I done to you?" she cried, 
 fiercely. " What had I done, that you should 
 doubt me?" 
 
 " Donna, let me 
 
 " No ! " she interrupted, " it is too late now. 
 This is the end. Do not prolong this painful 
 interview. Let s get it over quickly. Go ! " 
 
 He seized her hands, and looked into her set 
 face. 
 
 " Farewell," she said, softly, " forever ! Be 
 true to yourself and to her! " 
 
 And she wrenched herself free from him.
 
 200 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 Then, as he went over the bridge, the little 
 boat drifted out of the shadow down the stream. 
 Matilda lay in the midst of the water lilies 
 like one dead. Her hat had fallen back, and 
 its white ribbons were trailing in the water. 
 The sunlight, creeping through the network 
 of foliage, touched the pure face, and sought 
 in vain to call the color to the bloodless 
 cheek. The swans sailed around her and 
 uttered plaintive cries, but she did not hear 
 them ; and, thus escorted, the boat drifted 
 down the stream till it rested against the bank 
 amid the lily-pads that lined the shore.
 
 XI. 
 
 A WEEK had passed since the day when Louis 
 \ de Vere had made his explanation to 
 Donna. He had returned to the castle, after 
 long wandering in the park, to find a telegram 
 from the embassy in Berlin, requiring his imme 
 diate return ; and an hour later he left by 
 
 train from W . Perhaps he was glad of 
 
 an excuse for postponing his interview with 
 Herr von Waldbeck ; but he felt that the 
 day when he must speak to Matilda s parents 
 could not be put off much longer. 
 
 He left a message for Matilda withUhlheim. 
 He could not forget her pathetic face as she sat 
 amid the vines of the veranda at Waldruh, and 
 his heart was filled with pity for the loving 
 nature so coldly thrown back on itself by the 
 woman who should have given her child 
 motherly sympathy and love. Of Donna he 
 dared not think. She was strong and self-
 
 202 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 reliant, and capable of endurance. He knew 
 that she loved him, but he was equally sure 
 that no sign of it would be shown either to him 
 or the world. As for himself, he had made a 
 mistake and must bear the consequences, no 
 matter how unfortunate they might be, and his 
 life must be devoted to the guileless nature that 
 trusted him. Poor little Matilda ! 
 
 Thus he journeyed back to Berlin, with a 
 fixed purpose, though a changed man a man 
 out of whose life the joy had gone forever. 
 
 Donna had seen him as he drove toward 
 
 W that afternoon. His sudden departure 
 
 surprised her. She had thought he would go 
 to Waldruh and speak at once ; but the Kartlow 
 carriage passed, turning toward the high road, 
 followed shortly afterward by a wagon with 
 luggage. Something must have happened. 
 She would wait ; the news would reach her 
 soon enough ; and what were Louis s movements 
 to her? Had he not gone out of her life for 
 ever ? Henceforth they must meet as strangers. 
 A gulf lay between them, over, which they 
 could pass, not even in thought, without 
 treachery to little Matilda.
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 203 
 
 And so a week passed. 
 
 One day the Strahl girls drove along the high 
 way. They were exercising Elsa s pony, which 
 had not been used since her illness. Little 
 Hans, sitting up straight in the seat behind, 
 was being exercised, too, though he evidently 
 did not like the process. Berthe and Sophie 
 chatted merrily on their drive over the chaussee 
 to Waldruh, and as they approached Carlshohe 
 they drew the pony in at the crossing of the 
 roads. 
 
 " Shall we go in? " asked Sophie. 
 
 " There is Donna now," said Berthe, and she 
 pointed with her whip toward the corner of the 
 garden. 
 
 " What is Donna doing? Donna! Donna!" 
 called Sophie, at the top of her voice. 
 
 Donna raised her head, which was covered 
 with a wide-rimmed hat. Her face was aglow 
 with color from the sun. Her dress was tucked 
 up like a peasant s. She had evidently been 
 working in her garden. 
 
 They turned into the road leading to the 
 Schloss, and Donna leaned over the fence 
 near by.
 
 204 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 " What are you doing ? " questioned the girls, 
 in dismay. 
 
 " I am laboring, children. Do not our 
 maidens toil in the fields ? " 
 
 " You are crazy ! " 
 
 " So the family say, but they gave me up long 
 ago. Mamma hasn t done wringing her hands 
 yet. You know Anna is to come out soon 
 after Lita s wedding, and mamma is afraid that 
 my eccentricities may damage her career." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 "You see, Lita is just the same as married, 
 and it is an even thing between her and 
 Bliicher, who is not over clever. But Anna 
 yes, Anna is a darling. Not only is she pretty 
 and good, but she is intelligent, which is 
 better." 
 
 " Of course," rejoined the Strahls, in con 
 cert. 
 
 " Now, do you think my working ought to 
 damage Anna in the eyes of any sensible 
 man? I tell you, girls," said Donna, pulling 
 off her hat and baring her brown head to the 
 sun, " I think any man who wouldn t marry 
 Anna because I work in my garden had better
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 205 
 
 not have her ; so I shall persist in my course, 
 as a protection to my sweet sister s inter 
 ests." 
 
 Berthe and Sophie laughed heartily. 
 
 " What does you-r mother say to this plan of 
 yours?" 
 
 " Oh ! mamma lectures me ; and if any thing 
 confuses one, it is lecturing. When she has done 
 I never know whether I am the guilty one, or 
 she herself ; because it is always, When I was 
 a girl and after a while I think that mamma 
 used to do the naughty things, and that I am 
 the model. After all, girls, there is nothing so 
 good for the mind as activity. I have run 
 Selim half off his legs to ease my mind, and at 
 last came to the conclusion that it was unfair 
 to Selim, because it didn t ease his mind. Now 
 I purpose a course of weeding. Would you like 
 to try it? " 
 
 " No, thank you," returned Berthe, flipping 
 a fly off the pony with her whip. " We are 
 not overburdened with mind." 
 
 "What are you doing at Kartlow?" asked 
 Donna suddenly. " Is there any thing start 
 ling ? How is Elsa?"
 
 206 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 " She is well again, though too lazy to drive 
 the pony. M. de Vere has gone." 
 
 " Indeed ? " quite indifferently. 
 
 "Yes; went back to Berlin suddenly, but 
 promises to return for the ball." 
 
 "The ball?" interrogatively. 
 
 " We are going to give a ball. Think of it, 
 Donna a ball at Kartlow ! But the doctor has 
 ordered us off to the antipodes for some years, 
 and Victor thought it would be well to leave 
 a good impression on our neighbors," said 
 Berthe. 
 
 " Yes," added Sophie, " it comes off in a fort 
 night, at the same time as the harvest gather 
 ing. October will soon be here, and we must 
 go. It was too bad that Monsieur de Vere 
 had to leave so suddenly. He would have 
 helped us." 
 
 " I think he is so handsome and charming ! " 
 exclaimed Berthe, with enthusiasm. " Didn t 
 you like him, Donna?" 
 
 " I don t think I like Frenchmen very much." 
 
 The words came in a muffled tone from under 
 the broad-brimmed hat. 
 
 "Where are you going?" she began, hur-
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 207 
 
 riedly. " I am not doing the honors. Won t you 
 come in ? Lita and Anna are somewhere about. 
 I think they have gone to ride with the boys 
 now. You knew that Adolph had a new pony ? 
 Great era in his life ! Come in, do ! I can t 
 promise to entertain you, because I must finish 
 this weeding. Otherwise mamma might not 
 think me serious." 
 
 "We can t stop," replied Sophie. "We are 
 going to Waldruh to inquire for Matilda." 
 
 " To inquire for Matilda ! Is there any thing 
 wrong?" 
 
 " Hadn t you heard of her illness?" 
 
 Donna came nearer. Her face was grave 
 and troubled. 
 
 " Matilda ill ! What do you mean ? " 
 
 "Last week," said Berthe, in a low voice 
 " it was the day Monsieur de Vere left us 
 some of our field-girls came up to tell us that 
 they had found Matilda down the stream in 
 a boat, some distance below the pond. 
 She had fainted, and lay in the boat, covered 
 with water-lilies and surrounded by the swans." 
 
 " The Kartlow swans ? " 
 
 " Yes. How she got there, no one knows,"
 
 208 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 added Sophie. " They carried her home on a 
 litter, and she has been very ill ever since ; even 
 threatened with brain fever. They thought 
 she might be rowing up the stream to the 
 pond." 
 
 " But the swans ! " 
 
 Out of Donna s face every vestige of color 
 had fled. "Wait ! " she cried, imperiously, " I 
 will go with you." 
 
 In a moment she returned with her driving- 
 gloves. 
 
 " Hans, get down and wait here. The young 
 ladies will take you up on their way back." 
 
 Hans frowned, but there was something in 
 Donna s tone that admitted of no argument, 
 so he obeyed. 
 
 " Sophie, you are the smallest will you take 
 Hans s seat?" 
 
 Impelled by a will stronger than her own, 
 Sophie scrambled into the little seat behind. 
 
 " Now give me the reins, Berthe." 
 
 In Donna s hands the pony sped over the 
 chaussce at an unusual pace for him. Donna s 
 lips were set, and there was an expression of 
 pain in her eyes. Oh ! if Matilda should
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 209 
 
 have been floating down the. stream that 
 day ! If she had heard their words ! If she 
 had been a silent witness to that scene on the 
 island, there was no hope for any of them, and 
 forever Donna would be haunted with the con 
 sciousness that she had dealt a death-blow 
 to the child who clung to her in faith and love. 
 
 The thought was horrible ! 
 
 Faster flew the pony. Sophie rocked in her 
 seat behind. 
 
 " He is running away ! " cried Berthe, looking 
 with apprehension at Donna s set face. 
 
 " I have him well in hand," replied Donna, 
 quietly. " Don t be alarmed." But she slack 
 ened his pace, nevertheless. 
 
 Just as they neared the gates of Waldruh, 
 they overtook Victor and Leopold on foot. 
 
 " I thought the diligence was coming," 
 observed Victor. " Are you going to Wald 
 ruh ?" 
 
 Donna drew the pony in. 
 
 " I have something confidential to say to 
 Sophie," called Victor; "wait a moment." 
 
 The carriage stopped, and Uhlheim ap 
 proached on Donna s side.
 
 210 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 " Gracious Fraulein," he said, in a tone so low 
 that it reached her ear alone, " will you explain 
 to Fraulein Matilda that Monsieur de Vere was 
 called back very suddenly by his chief, to Ber 
 lin. He intends returning very soon, and asked 
 me to tell her. I shall not have an opportunity, 
 under the circumstances, you understand." 
 
 Their eyes met. She understood, not only 
 the message, but that he knew every thing, 
 and she read in his eyes a sympathy which 
 she could not resent. Impulsively she stretched 
 out her hand, and he pressed it in silence. 
 
 They were recalled by Berthe s exclamation 
 and Victor s laugh. 
 
 " Victor, why did you stop us for such a trifle ? 
 Don t you see that Donna is troubled about 
 Matilda ? " whispered Sophie. " Let us go." 
 
 The men proceeded on their way, while the 
 phaeton disappeared within the high gates of 
 Waldruh. 
 
 Frau von Waldbeck was walking up and 
 down the terrace with a lace fichu thrown over 
 her head. She paused at the sound of their 
 wheels on the pavement, and bent over the 
 balustrade as they drove underneath.
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 211 
 
 Donna jumped out, and left the reins in 
 Berthe s hands. 
 
 " How is Matilda ? " asked Sophie. 
 
 " Much better, but very weak," was the 
 answer. " It was foolish of her to go out in the 
 heat and attempt to row up the stream against 
 the current." 
 
 Then it was true. Matilda had been rowing 
 up the stream. 
 
 " It came from her disobeying my express 
 command," continued Frau von Waldbeck. 
 " She was forbidden to go to Kartlow." 
 
 " Is she very ill? " asked Berthe, timidly. 
 
 " Not seriously." 
 
 Donna waited to hear no more, but stepped 
 through the great door into the hall, while the 
 Strahl girls held the attention of their hostess. 
 Had she been noticed, her opportunity would 
 have been lost, as Frau von Waldbeck would 
 have prevented her from seeing Matilda. 
 
 She hurried up the staircase to Matilda s 
 door. She listened ; there was no sound from 
 within. She opened the door cautiously and 
 found herself alone in the little boudoir. 
 The door of Matilda s room was half open ;
 
 212 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 Donna pushed it wide, and stood like a 
 thief on the threshold. Her heart beat, her 
 eyes fell how could she meet the trusting eyes 
 of the child she had wronged. And yet had 
 not Matilda stolen her lover from her? Why 
 did she feel as though she herself were guilty? 
 
 The casement, with its little cross-panes, stood 
 open. The vine half covered the opening. A 
 bird, made bold by the silence inside, was 
 perched on the sill, alternately trilling a song 
 and pecking at the bread crumbs some friendly 
 hand had left there for him. Matilda reclined 
 on the bed, propped up by pillows. Her eyes 
 were closed, and the weariness of death lay on 
 her waxen features. One hand was pressed on 
 her heart, as if to still the pain, the other sup 
 ported the drooping head. She opened her 
 eyes and smiled at Donna, who clasped her 
 passionately in her arms. 
 
 "What have they done to you, my darling?" 
 she cried, her voice choked with sobs. " What 
 has happened to you ? " 
 
 " It was the sun," replied Matilda, languidly, 
 as her hands wandered over Donna s bowed 
 head. " You know I was "
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 213 
 
 " Yes, I know," Donna broke in eagerly. 
 " Tell me the truth," and she clasped her 
 tighter. " Were you rowing- up to Kartlow, or 
 drifting down the stream. Tell me, for our 
 lives depend upon it." 
 
 A troubled expression came into Matilda s 
 eyes. She looked into the eager face close 
 to hers, and knew that if she told the truth 
 there would be more misery in the world. Donna 
 had been her counselor and friend. Should 
 she tell the truth, and throw the burden on 
 her ? No, they must never think that she 
 knew their secret. They must believe that her 
 heart had changed. The good Madonna would 
 forgive her for the lie. So, with her eyes look 
 ing into Donna s, she said : 
 
 "Donna, I was going up the stream," and 
 her gentle voice fell upon the silent air without 
 a tremor. 
 
 " But the swans. They were with you." 
 
 " I know," explained Matilda. " But I had 
 bread, and I called them down. They knew my 
 voice ; I had fed them so often. It was their 
 cries that brought the peasants when I fainted." 
 
 " I am glad, I am so glad," said Donna, with a
 
 c 14 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 sigh of relief. "Oh! my poor little girl! my 
 poor little girl ! " 
 
 And she burst into tears. 
 
 " Don t cry," said Matilda, smoothing her 
 friend s hair softly. " I shall be well soon, and 
 I won t row in the sun any more." 
 
 She had taken the office of comforter. 
 
 " Yes, you will soon be well again," mur 
 mured Donna, drying her eyes. "It is absurd 
 for me to come here and trouble you about 
 nothing. I could not help it, Matilda. It 
 shocked me to see you so white and still ; but 
 you will get well soon, dear you must." 
 
 Matilda smiled at her eager tone. 
 
 " I have a message which will make you 
 stronger," said Donna, lightly. " A message 
 from him. He has gone away." 
 
 An expression of relief passed over Matilda s 
 face, but the other did not notice it. She was 
 intent on delivering her message. 
 
 " But he won t be gone long," she said. " He 
 will come back as soon as possible, perhaps for 
 the Kartlow ball." 
 
 "Is there to be a ball?" 
 
 " Yes, in a fortnight, and Louis will be here.
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 215 
 
 You must get well and strong. His chief 
 called him away suddenly, and he had no time 
 to say good-by." 
 
 " Donna ! " 
 
 " Yes, dear." 
 
 " Tell Louis that I loved him from the first. 
 Tell him that I should have loved him even if 
 he had never spoken to me. He was not at all 
 to blame. And, Donna, ask him not to speak 
 to papa until I am quite well again." 
 
 " But you will tell him these things your 
 self?" 
 
 " Perhaps." 
 
 " Why are you so listless, child ; have you 
 told me the truth ? " 
 
 " Did you ever know me to tell you an un 
 truth?" 
 
 Matilda s tone reassured her. 
 
 " Tell him that I shall explain all some day 
 when I see him again. We must not hurry mat 
 ters. I am so young that I can afford to wait. 
 I could not stand the shock now." 
 
 That was to be considered, certainly, for there 
 would be opposition to the engagement on 
 account of Monsieur de Vere s religion. More-
 
 216 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 over, Frau von Waldbeck would resent the fact 
 that Matilda had betrothed herself in secret. 
 
 " I will tell him what you say, Matilda. And 
 now remember that you must gain strength for 
 the ball, for you must dance among the mer 
 riest with your chosen cavalier." 
 
 "You have never told me about your cava 
 lier. Isn t he coming some time?" 
 
 Matilda turned her questioning eyes on 
 Donna, who hesitated and turned pale. 
 
 "I have none," she answered shortly. "I am 
 going to be a Stiffs dame." 
 
 " Some day when the man you love asks you 
 to marry him, remember that your little 
 Matilda will be glad of your happiness." 
 
 Her hand stole into Donna s, and pressed it. 
 
 " Child, don t talk of me ! " answered Donna, 
 gloomily. " There is no thought of love in my 
 life." 
 
 "There may be some time. And you will 
 think of me then ? Promise ! " 
 
 And more to humor the caprice of an invalid 
 than to reassure herself, Donna said : 
 
 " Yes. I will remember. I promise to re 
 member all you say." Then rising she added :
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 217 
 
 " I am going now. But I will come again 
 to-morrow and each day." 
 
 "Thank you, Donna. Always remember 
 that I loved you best, and more than any thing 
 in the world." 
 
 Donna had no word in reply. Her heart 
 was full. She felt a foreboding of evil ; but 
 then the child had said she was rowing up 
 the stream. If this were true, it was impossi 
 ble for her to have heard their voices on that day. 
 So she put the doubt aside, and went back 
 to her weeding. After all, there was nothing, 
 like work to overcome one s grief. Donna was 
 already getting cynical on the subject of love ; 
 but in the night, when the watchman called 
 the hours, her heart would contract with pain, 
 and she wondered whether she would have 
 strength to stand the ordeal of seeing the man 
 she loved with all the force of her nature, 
 wedded to another.
 
 XII. 
 
 IT was near sunset, and every thing was mov 
 ing toward the Schloss. For several days 
 the semi-annual washing had been in progress. 
 The old horse s burden of milk-pails had been 
 changed for baskets of wet linen, which he drew 
 with equal patience up the road, while the 
 buxom maids, with their arms bared to the 
 shoulder, sang lustily as they rubbed the linen 
 with stones in the stream. 
 
 Every six weeks the ordinary household linen 
 was washed ; but the great stores in the press, 
 the accumulation of brides dowries for genera 
 tions, saw the light but rarely. 
 
 Berthe and Elsa were starting for a walk with 
 Victor and Leopold. They picked their way 
 over the stones past the washerwomen, and 
 struck across the fields. The blue and white 
 flag of Kartlow waved in the sunlight as the 
 tower clock struck seven.
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 219 
 
 " We can not go far," said Berthe ; " supper 
 is at eight to-night." 
 
 " By crossing this way we shall gainthe road 
 to Prenzberg. You have never seen it, Elsa." 
 
 " But I have seen the other four estates. I 
 fancy they are all alike." 
 
 " Prenzberg is very pretty, though there is 
 nothing but a farm-house on it. We have 
 lived at Kartlow so long that houses on the 
 other estates have seemed superfluous." 
 
 " Look at the sunset," said Elsa, suddenly. 
 "Isn t it beautiful ? " 
 
 They had reached the top of the hill. Prenz 
 berg, with its broad fields, lay before them. 
 The harvest was over, and on the distant road 
 great wagon loads of grain could be seen mov 
 ing toward Kartlow. 
 
 " Sixty loads have gone into the barns to 
 day," exclaimed Victor. " We are having a 
 good harvest." 
 
 " When do they have their harvest fite ? " 
 asked Elsa. 
 
 " On the same day as the ball next week," 
 answered Berthe. " You will open their dance, 
 won t you ? Jochen has set his heart on it."
 
 220 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 Elsa smiled. 
 
 " If you wish it." 
 
 " Are you going to dance with the peasantry ? 
 I thought, gracious Fraulein, you were alto 
 gether above such condescension." 
 
 " It is one of our old-time customs for the 
 lady of the manor to open the harvest fete" 
 
 " It gains favor because of its antiquity, 
 then ? I should think it would be a bore to 
 dance with these country fellows." 
 
 " But we don t dance with the peasants, but 
 with the upper house-servants and the inspect 
 ors," said Berthe. " They dance very well, I 
 assure you." 
 
 " Oh ! With the aristocracy of the kitchen ! I 
 understand. That is a distinction." 
 
 " Jochen, our butler, is quite a swell. See, 
 there is his little house." 
 
 Victor pointed to a small brick cottage in the 
 village street through which they were return 
 ing. " And there s his good wife with the 
 children." 
 
 A fair woman of thirty rose from her spinning 
 and made a courtesy as they passed, gathering 
 together a number of white-haired, healthy
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 221 
 
 children, who all gave them a bow of greet 
 ing. 
 
 " Now, he has a pig and a cow somewhere in 
 the back yard, and is quite happy, just as his 
 father was before him. Jochen was papa s 
 favorite valet, and traveled with him for years. 
 He can speak English and French, too. We 
 had a lady visiting here once who had an En 
 glish maid, and Jochen was quite a hero because 
 he was the only one of the servants who could 
 talk with her. They used to stroll in the vege 
 table garden surrounded by an admiring throng, 
 and I don t think he got over strutting for six 
 months." 
 
 " We so rarely have any foreigners here," said 
 Elsa. " We are too far north. There is little 
 to interest them but the Schloss at Schwerin. I 
 have never met an Englishman nor an Ameri 
 can." 
 
 " Nor have I met many," said Victor, 
 " although I have traveled so much. They go to 
 other hotels, and travel by different routes. I 
 did know a man who married an American wife 
 and brought her home to this country ; his little 
 brothers and sisters were quite disappointed
 
 222 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 because she was neither an Indian nor a negress. 
 However, the Americans know almost as little 
 of us as we do of them. They think we all eat 
 with our knives, and are fat and beery. They 
 judge us by the middle-class German one sees 
 at beer-gardens and restaurants, for they never 
 see us in our homes." 
 
 " Refined people of every nation are alike," 
 said Leopold. " They are cosmopolitan. It 
 does not matter where they are born or what 
 language they speak. There s a free-masonry 
 among them." 
 
 "I remember," continued Victor, " meeting 
 an Englishman, not long ago, who gave me an 
 English book which purported to give a pic 
 ture of our life here. It was simply a picture 
 of middle-class life, very different from ours ; 
 but foreigners go on thinking our girls do the 
 milking and the ironing." 
 
 " It would not do them any harm, my boy, if 
 they did." 
 
 " But they don t, Herr Uhlheim. If they did, 
 it would be all very well ; but it misrepresents 
 us. Think of Elsa, there, ironing collars and 
 milking cows."
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 223 
 
 " I should never dare to take such liberties 
 with a cow," said Elsa, laughing. 
 
 " What difference does it make?" said Uhl- 
 heim. " Does not our army command respect 
 throughout the world ? And I am sure our 
 philosophy is famous. Let people find out 
 for themselves that we do not eat with our 
 fingers, and dine daily on sauerkraut. I m sure 
 Waldruh boasts its French cJief. That should 
 console you." 
 
 " It is such a bore to enlighten people con 
 stantly," said Victor, " and to assure them that 
 we are not barbarians." 
 
 " Don t enlighten them. Make sport of their 
 ignorance, as the Americans do of ours." 
 
 "The other day," said Elsa, " I heard Sophie 
 tell about an American who got confused at 
 first by our rules of etiquette, and ended by 
 adopting them. When she went back to 
 America, she felt lost without it. It was 
 delightful to have one s seat in the car 
 riage settled by etiquette. In her country, 
 two ladies stood before the door, each begging 
 the other to precede her, until the horses took 
 cold, whereas, with us, the visitor sits at the
 
 224 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 right behind the coachman, and the head-coach 
 man always drives a married lady. But it does 
 seem absurd that an unmarried woman should 
 always rise and offer the seat of honor on the 
 sofa to the married woman, no matter how 
 young she may be. I once saw a girl of twenty- 
 nine get up for a bride of seventeen. Then, 
 our young girls must always rise when a married 
 woman passes, nor speak unless spoken to. 
 They always kiss the married ladies hands until 
 they are grown, and etiquette forbids an 
 intimacy between a married woman and a young 
 girl, or between girls whose ages are widely dif 
 ferent. There should be a happy medium 
 between this rigid form of German etiquette 
 and the English, which seems so lax to us. Our 
 girls are so stiff and formal." 
 
 " I am sure you are not stiff, Elsa," said 
 Berthe. 
 
 " I ought to be. Thanks to Donna, I am 
 not. But Donna is older, and has had more 
 liberty. She has her ideas." 
 
 " Which Matilda s mother detests." 
 
 " Yes, the Waldbeck girls are fair specimens 
 of the German school."
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 225 
 
 " I remember that this American wondered 
 how we ever became acquainted with the men 
 we married, since love was a forbidden subject 
 between us." 
 
 " It is not proper for a man to speak of love 
 to a girl," said Victor. 
 
 " Nor discuss it ? " questioned Leopold. 
 
 " Not unless his intentions are serious." 
 
 " How does he know whether their views coin 
 cide? " 
 
 " He doesn t. It is all risk." 
 
 "Ah! 
 
 Leopold fell to thinking of the several dis 
 cussions he had had with Elsa on the forbidden 
 subject. Had she thought him personal, he 
 wondered ? 
 
 " I think the English custom more satis 
 factory," he said. " A woman s mind develops 
 through contact with a man s." 
 
 " But she is more inclined to be content with 
 her husband if she has not studied him too 
 much," said Victor, laughing. 
 
 " Oh ! she will still have her ideals," observed 
 Elsa, dreamily. 
 They crossed the drive-way toward the Schloss.
 
 226 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 The clouds looked threatening in the west, and 
 the storks flew in circles above their heads. 
 
 "Do you think we shall have a storm?" 
 asked Victor of one of the shepherds as they 
 passed the road to the outhouses. 
 
 "Yes, Junker," replied the man, as he bared 
 his head to speak to the master. 
 
 " Is every thing ready ? " 
 
 " Yes, Junker, we are ready to slip the halters 
 at any moment, and drive the cattle out of 
 the barns." 
 
 "What does that mean? " asked Leopold, as 
 they passed on. 
 
 "The storms are very violent here, and when 
 they break, the animals are turned loose to save 
 themselves in case the lightning should strike ; 
 for our thatched roofs burn like tinder. Even 
 at the Schloss no one sleeps through a storm. 
 Every one is roused, dressed and ready for any 
 emergency. So if you hear an alarm, be ready." 
 
 " I shall ! " replied Uhlheim, as he looked up 
 at the fair castle, with its proud flag flying, and 
 thought it must not happen. And they walked 
 under the broad portico into the hall, their feet 
 ringing on the marble pavement.
 
 XIII. 
 
 FRAU VON WALDBECK was preparing 
 for the ball at Kartlow, and her maid was 
 pinning up the draperies of her ball dress. A 
 fine woman was Frau von Waldbeck, a beauty 
 once, when she was maid of honor at the Ber 
 lin court. She was tall and finely formed, with 
 well modeled arms and neck. Her hair was 
 brushed back from a prominent brow, and 
 she had a haughty air. Rumor said that she 
 had had a love affair in her youth, and married 
 Leo Waldbeck from pique, while waiting for 
 another to declare himself. Although she soon 
 discovered her mistake, she had lands and riches 
 to console her. What did it matter if her hus 
 band laughed a little coarsely and cracked his 
 whip at the children s legs? He was the scion 
 of a noble house as old as the land, and her 
 children were well-mannered and entirely under 
 her control. Time had dealt gently with her.
 
 228 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 Its flight had left no trace in the smooth face 
 reflected by the mirror. Nor was there a 
 wrinkle visible, although her best days were 
 gone and she was past forty-five. 
 
 " Eine schone Frau," the people said. Did 
 she not still hold her own at the court balls 
 and receive compliments on occasions from the 
 grand duke ? She was a woman of whom 
 one might justly be proud. She had often said 
 so to Leo, when he reproached her forher cold 
 ness and silently wiped away Matilda s tears. 
 
 Frau von Waldbeck s dress was of rich bro 
 cade, profusely trimmed with lace. Dia 
 monds flashed in her hair, and on her neck 
 and arms. A smile of satisfaction spread over 
 her features as she turned away from her 
 mirror. 
 
 "Leo, are you ready?" 
 
 "In a moment." 
 
 "And Johanna?" 
 
 " Oh ! she was ready half an hour ago," was 
 the answer. 
 
 " I will go first to Matilda, and then join you 
 below." 
 
 " Agreed."
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 229 
 
 Little Matilda lay on her bed. Two weeks 
 had not improved her condition. The old doc 
 tor from W shook his head and felt her 
 
 pulse. 
 
 " Nerves," he said, with a pompous air. 
 " Nothing but nerves," and prescribed a little 
 sal volatile and a course of baths artificial sea 
 baths his favorite remedy. The gracious 
 Fraulein would be benefited by this treat 
 ment. He drew himself up and made a low 
 bow. In a few days his assistant called. The 
 doctor was getting old, and had chosen this 
 young man for the succession to his practice 
 and his daughter s hand. 
 
 The young doctor looked gravely at the pale 
 face lying between the pillows, and spoke words 
 of comfort. 
 
 Had she no desire to go out and hear the 
 birds sing? Did she not anticipate the great 
 ball at Kartlow with pleasure ? But Matilda 
 shook her head. 
 
 "Tell me, doctor," she said, bending over 
 with eagerness when her mother left the room 
 for a moment. " Am I going to die? " 
 
 " Gracious Fraulein, we hope not."
 
 230 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 " I am so thin, and I have such a pain here," 
 she murmured, pressing her hand to her heart. 
 " I am so tired so tired." 
 
 The tears came into the young doctor s eyes. 
 " What troubles you ? Tell me, and I will keep 
 your secret." 
 
 "Trouble!" 
 
 Matilda started. Had she betrayed herself ? 
 " I have no trouble," she answered. 
 
 And when the doctor s assistant went down 
 stairs he hinted that the gracious Fraulein had 
 a hidden grief which, if not relieved, might kill 
 her. 
 
 "Grief! My daughter a grief?" cried the 
 angered mother. " How dare you insinuate such 
 a thing! My child would not-dare to have any 
 thing so improper. You may tell the Herr 
 Medicinalrath Steiner that I do not desire your 
 presence again." 
 
 The young doctor went out of the house 
 crushed in spirit. He thought of his little 
 blonde sweetheart at home, and wondered 
 whether he had damaged his chances with her 
 father by his frankness. 
 
 Matilda knew that the night of the ball had
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 231 
 
 come. Johanna had been there to show her 
 self in her new ball dress of tulle, embroidered 
 with roses. 
 
 "You were silly not to get well," she 
 observed, as she held up the lamp to get a bet 
 ter view of her red corsage in the little mirror 
 over Matilda s dressing table. 
 
 " I ll bring you some bonbons, and tell you 
 all about it to-morrow. Good-night. " She 
 shut the door and ran lightly down the cor 
 ridor. The draught from the door made her 
 sister shiver. 
 
 Matilda drew mental pictures of the fete. 
 He would be there in his diplomatic uniform, 
 and Donna, radiant in red gauze, with pop 
 pies in her hair. They would dance together. 
 She could hear the measure of the waltz. 
 Oh ! why was fate so unkind ? She had lived 
 such a little time, and the world was so hard. 
 Love had smiled at her for but one brief 
 moment. Her only hope was in her Ma 
 donna, and the little shrine had been closed 
 for a long time. She felt her way toward 
 the window. The moonlight fell through the 
 branches, and touched the cabinet on the wall.
 
 232 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 Oh, how weak she was, and how her head 
 swam ! Her heart beat irregularly. She felt 
 she was guilty of a crime. A moment later 
 the doors of the cabinet flew open, exposing to 
 view an ivory crucifix, and Matilda sank on her 
 knees before it with her rosary clasped in her 
 hands. 
 
 Suddenly she felt the world slipping away 
 from her, and all grew dark around her. 
 
 It was this picture that greeted Frau von 
 Waldbeck when she came to visit her daughter 
 before going to Kartlow. At first she did not 
 grasp its meaning. Her daughter on her knees 
 before a crucifix! Then her eyes fell upon the 
 rosary in Matilda s hands. She was in the 
 presence of a Romanist ! Her pride rose in 
 revolt. No one of their name had ever pro. 
 fessed such a belief. 
 
 " Matilda ! " 
 
 The terrible voice did not rouse the fainting 
 child, but a shake of her mother s powerful 
 hand brought her to her senses. 
 
 "What does this theatrical nonsense mean?" 
 she cried sternly. " Have you lost your voice? 
 Answer me ! What is this ? "
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 233 
 
 She tore the rosary out of her daughter s 
 hands. 
 
 " Are you a Roman Catholic ? " she exclaimed, 
 in a tone of horror. "You, my daughter! 
 What a disgrace ! So this was your secret, rebel 
 lious child? " 
 
 " Forgive me ! " 
 
 The pitiful voice pleaded in vain. 
 
 " Forgive you ? Never ! You shall never call 
 me mother until you renounce this false faith. 
 
 She seized the velvet prayer book, which was 
 lying open on the table, and flung it far out of 
 the open casement into the lake, where it fell 
 with a dull splash. Matilda uttered a low cry, 
 and clung to her mother s brocade skirts. 
 
 " For God s sake, mother! " 
 
 Her mother shook her off. 
 
 " Don t come near me," she exclaimed, with 
 aversion. 
 
 As Matilda drew back, her mother seized 
 the ivory crucifix and wrenched it from the 
 wall. 
 
 "Mother! Mother!" cried Matilda, in 
 anguish, "the Sainte Vierge will punish you ! " 
 
 " The Sainte Vierge, indeed ! Learn, then,
 
 234 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 that I hold the authority of the Sainte Vierge 
 in as little honor as this " 
 
 She raised the crucifix high with both hands, 
 but her daughter s agile fingers closed around 
 her arms. 
 
 "You shall not ! " she cried, with passion, and 
 her slender form was transfigured with her dar 
 ing. " You dare not. He is your God, as He is 
 mine. He will judge you, mother. He will 
 bring an awful punishment upon you ! " 
 
 The mother paused. There was something 
 supernatural in the glory of the girl s face. Her 
 hands fell away from the crucifix, and she drew 
 back. 
 
 The moonlight flashed in the diamonds on 
 her neck and arms. She still panted with indig 
 nation, but the child had conquered. The light 
 had gone out of Matilda s face, leaving her 
 ghastly pale. 
 
 " Forgive me, mother ; say that you forgive 
 me ! " she moaned. 
 
 But the mother drew her cloak around her 
 and turned toward the door. She shot a glance 
 of injured pride over her shoulder at her defeat. 
 
 " I will speak to you to-morrow when I am
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 235 
 
 calmer," she said, as she passed through the 
 door. 
 
 Matilda threw herself on the bed. Her 
 hand still grasped the crucifix, but she thought 
 not of it. Her heart was yearning for the 
 woman who had repulsed her. Surely God had 
 deserted her in her bitter hour of need. The 
 cold ivory of the crucifix touched her cheek and 
 brought her back to consciousness. 
 
 "No, I was wrong," she murmured, as she 
 clasped it to her heart. " The Madonna is my 
 refuge and my hope." 
 
 Her breath came fitfully through her parted 
 lips. The moon shone in through the window 
 and lighted her face, but she moved not, for the 
 heart which had suffered so much was stilled 
 forever.
 
 XIV. 
 
 FESTIVITIES at Kartlow were at their 
 height. They began with the merry-mak 
 ing of the people. Elsa, the Strahl girls and 
 Victor had opened the dance on the cemented 
 floor of the laundry. The walls were hung 
 with garlands, and the musicians, seated on 
 a table at one end, played a national air as 
 they entered. The ladies maids and upper 
 house servants were the belles, while Jochen, 
 resplendent in his newest livery, a pale blue 
 coat trimmed with silver and white breeches 
 with silk stockings, was master of ceremonies. 
 The field-girls were in their Sunday best. 
 They wore pretty colored kerchiefs around 
 their necks, and danced with a will. Elsa led 
 with Jochen, and then danced with the head- 
 coachman, a serious person with a grown-up 
 family. Afterward she delighted the heart of 
 a handsome young peasant by treading a meas 
 ure with him.
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 237 
 
 The "Junker", as the people called Victor, 
 was flirting with some pretty maids in a corner, 
 and Uhlheim stood by, looking on with an 
 amused expression. It was not more than half 
 an hour before royalty had had enough. The 
 people were glad to be left to themselves. They 
 felt restrained in the presence of their masters, 
 but afterward made merry until the setting of 
 the sun. 
 
 It was night at Kartlow. Long strings of 
 colored lanterns lighted the approach to the 
 Schloss, and outside the village great torches 
 blazed. 
 
 At one end of the banquet-hall was placed 
 the orchestra from W , shut off by a 
 screen of tropical plants. The crystal chan 
 deliers were ablaze with lighted wax candles, 
 and the parquet floor was polished so highly 
 as to endanger the equilibrium of at least one 
 fat dowager who stepped carelessly upon it. 
 The great carved oak doors were thrown open 
 into the suite of rooms overlooking the park, 
 while through the French windows one could 
 see the lanterns on the terrace and in the gar 
 den. Boats, each with its tiny light, floated on
 
 238 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 the lake, and under the bridge, which was deco 
 rated with bunting. 
 
 The guests began to arrive as early as half- 
 past eight. The country had turned out in force, 
 for a long time had elapsed since a ball of such 
 brilliancy had been given at Kartlow. 
 
 The former proprietor had lived very little 
 at home, and his children, all delicate in health, 
 had visited their native land but rarely. Six 
 years would yet elapse before Victor attained 
 man s estate according to the laws of Meck 
 lenburg. His father had been a great favorite 
 with the grand duke, and his uncle, to whose 
 untimely death his father owed his inheritance, 
 had been principal councilor of Mecklenburg, 
 the government being regulated by three, of 
 whom he was the head. Thus, since festivities 
 at Kartlow were unusual, the neighbors had 
 come to rejoice, and those from a distance out 
 of curiosity. 
 
 The capacity of the neighboring Schlosses 
 had its limit, so that a great many people 
 would seek accommodation at the hotel in 
 W , an hour s drive from Kartlow. 
 
 Frau von Althaus, with the daughters of the
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 239 
 
 house and Elsa, did the honors. They stood 
 at the entrance to the blue-room, opposite the 
 hall doors, and received the guests as they 
 arrived. Frau von Althaus looked very hand 
 some ; her kindly eyes beamed a welcome as 
 she found an apt word for every one. The two 
 Strahls were a great contrast Berthe, fair, tall, 
 and finely-made, of the German type ; and 
 Sophie, with her dark hair, clear skin, and 
 slender drooping figure, like her Italian mother. 
 Behind them stood Elsa and Donna, side by 
 side ; Elsa in white tulle, looped with water lil 
 ies; Donna in red, with poppies in her hair. 
 They were talking with Monsieur de Vere who 
 had just arrived, and if one had judged by the 
 calm of Donna s manner, he might have been 
 some new acquaintance. 
 
 There was no evidence that she had not con 
 quered herself entirely. 
 
 "And is Fraulein Matilda so ill then?" 
 Monsieur de Vere was asking. 
 
 " Here come her mother and sister ; she 
 can t be dangerously ill," Elsa replied. 
 
 The music began ; one of Strauss s most 
 entrancing waltzes.
 
 240 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 " And, gracious Fraulein, will you dance with 
 me ? " he said to Donna. 
 
 She thanked him and declined. 
 
 She did not feel like dancing, and she must 
 speak to Matilda s mother. 
 
 Louis de Vere bowed. 
 
 " Perhaps Fraulein von Rabenhorst will favor 
 me? " 
 
 " I shall be pleased to waltz with you, Mon 
 sieur de Vere." 
 
 Donna followed them with her eyes. 
 
 " I could not bear to feel his arm around 
 me," she thought. " I should be a traitress in 
 thought." 
 
 How graceful they were. Elsa fairly floated 
 in his arms. What could be more natural, for 
 he was one of the best dancers of the Berlin 
 court. She met Leopold s quiet gaze as she 
 turned away. 
 
 " You don t dance? " she remarked. 
 
 "No ! " he said, shortly, and she remembered 
 that he was Victor s tutor. Did his eyes fol 
 low Elsa and the count, or was it fancy ? She 
 advanced toward Frau von Waldbeck, who 
 was seated on the other side of the room, with
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 241 
 
 Johanna, bolt upright, beside her. There was 
 an anxious look on her usually placid face. A 
 moment later, Johanna passed by on the arm of 
 Herr von Tatow, and Donna stopped her to 
 inquire for Matilda. 
 
 " She seems about the same," was the care 
 less answer. " I think she will be better soon." 
 
 Just then Louis de Vere and Elsa came back 
 from their waltz and paused before her. 
 
 " Donna, dance just once with me," he whis 
 pered in her ear. 
 
 And, before she realized what she was doing, 
 she was in the whirl, with Louis s arm around 
 her and his voice murmuring in her ear 
 
 " Would it might last forever." 
 
 She tore herself free from his embrace and 
 rushed away. Would it be ever thus ? How 
 could she have been so weak ! He followed 
 her on to the terrace to beg her pardon. 
 
 " Never again," she exclaimed, as she gave 
 him her hand. " Never again ! " And he 
 kissed it with passion. As they went in 
 together, they passed Leopold at the door 
 of the veranda. He was in a bitter mood. He 
 was alone in a crowd. By the window above the
 
 242 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 veranda, a group of people was discussing some 
 subject hotly. Victor was among them. He 
 looked out and saw his tutor standing on the 
 veranda alone. 
 
 " Come up here and talk with us," cried Vic 
 tor. Thus urged, Uhlheim joined them. 
 
 The ball was at its height, and the wild music 
 of a Polish mazurka floated through the doors 
 of the ball-room. One could hear the clanking 
 of the spurs as the officers marked the time ; and 
 their bright uniforms, mingled with the gay 
 dresses of the women, formed a picture to be 
 remembered. 
 
 "It is midnight, and supper is about to be 
 served," said Victor. " Let s have a table 
 here." 
 
 He gave some orders to a passing servant, 
 and in a few moments a table was placed in the 
 embrasure of the tower window. 
 
 " Now, Elsa, you, Uhlheim, Donna and De 
 Vere will sit here and amuse yourselves. I am 
 down for the dowager countess of something 
 or other, at the big table in the dining-room. 
 I envy you." 
 
 " You irreverent boy," rejoined Uhlheim,
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 243 
 
 with a gleam of his old humor. " The dowager 
 countess is sure to flatter you immensely." 
 
 Victor made a wry face. 
 
 " I ll come back just as soon as I can," he 
 said, as he moved away. 
 
 The soup was served in silence. 
 
 " I think this German custom of giving a man 
 a dinner in the middle of the night has its dis 
 advantages," said Leopold. 
 
 " If one has been dancing, he is hungry," 
 returned Louis de Vere. 
 
 " I have not been dancing, and I am not 
 hungry." 
 
 Just then Count Hahn, a young officer of 
 high rank, approached the table where they 
 were sitting. 
 
 " I don t know that you remember me, gra 
 cious Fraulein," he said, addressing Donna. 
 "But I had the honor of dancing the cotillon 
 with you at one of the balls given by the late 
 princess." 
 
 " Certainly, Count Hahn, I remember you 
 very well," replied Donna, as she extended 
 her hand with a smile. " Let me introduce 
 you to my friends Fraulein von Rabenhorst,
 
 244 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 Herr Uhlheim, the Count de Vere, Count 
 Hahn." 
 
 Count Hahn bowed to Elsa, and shook hands 
 with the two men. 
 
 " And will you honor me with the cotillon 
 this evening? I understand that there will be 
 one after supper." 
 
 "Thank you," assented Donna. 
 
 A pang of jealousy shot through Louis s 
 heart. 
 
 "And will you dance with me, Fraulein 
 Elsa?" he asked. 
 
 " With pleasure." 
 
 Again Leopold felt himself alone. 
 
 With whom should he have danced at this 
 aristocratic gathering? And he stood up by the 
 window and looked out at the groups of people 
 on the terrace. 
 
 " I think I will go and row in a boat," he said. 
 " I am not an ornament for a ball-room. I will 
 become a gondolier. I feel quarrelsome 
 to-night." 
 
 " No one will quarrel with you," retorted 
 Louis de Vere, " on such a fine night and on 
 such an occasion. However, it is quite safe to
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 245 
 
 quarrel with you, for you would not give even a 
 sword-thrust in return." 
 
 " How is that ? " asked Donna. 
 
 " Herr Uhlheim does not believe in dueling." 
 
 A shade of annoyance passed over Leopold s 
 face. 
 
 " Here is a man, an officer and a gentleman 
 
 Leopold s quick look of warning did not 
 escape Elsa s eyes. An officer and a 
 gentleman ! Had she been deceived then ? 
 
 " A man who has every reason to believe in 
 honor and its vindication," continued Louis, 
 remorselessly, " and who refuses to fight ! " 
 
 "It is impossible!" exclaimed Elsa, while 
 Count Hahn raised his eye-glass to look more 
 closely at this curiosity. 
 
 " Why should it be impossible ? " replied Uhl 
 heim, quietly. " It is true, I don t believe in 
 dueling." 
 
 " Would you mind explaining, Herr Uhl 
 heim ? " 
 
 The count s voice jarred on Leopold s ear, 
 and the little pause before his name irritated 
 him. 
 
 He made no reply.
 
 246 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 " Do explain," urged Donna, in a kindly 
 voice. " Tell us; enlighten us. I think myself 
 it is a rather barbarous custom." 
 
 "Donna!" 
 
 Elsa s eyes were ablaze with indignation. 
 
 " Fraulein von Konigsmark has explained it. 
 I think dueling a barbarous custom, one the 
 nineteenth century should not encourage." 
 
 " And what would Herr Uhlheim do were he 
 insulted?" asked the sneering voice of Count 
 Hahn. 
 
 " He would trust to punishment in another 
 way." 
 
 There was a dangerous light in Leopold s 
 eyes. 
 
 " To the law courts, perhaps ; a fine field 
 wherein to parade the wrongs of honor." 
 
 " It is certainly less dangerous to life and 
 limb than the sword. I have no desire to kill 
 men, I leave that to savages." 
 
 The count flushed to the eyes. 
 
 " It is easy to shield one s self behind this 
 sentiment. Didn t Monsieur de Vere call you 
 an officer and a gentleman ? " 
 
 " I have been an officer, and I hold it wrong
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 247 
 
 to risk the life one has pledged to the serv 
 ice of the king in private quarrels. We are 
 sworn to fight his enemies. If for a trifle we 
 allow the life given us for some noble end to be 
 destroyed, it is no better than suicide ; and so 
 I repeat that an officer, most of all, should not 
 make himself a target for private vengeance." 
 
 "Then he readily becomes a target for 
 scoffers, since a man who will not defend his 
 honor might be mistaken for a coward." 
 
 A quick reply rose to Leopold s lips. Who 
 was this who dared insult him in the pres 
 ence of his friends. A man whom with 
 little effort he could fling into the 
 lake below. Was it because his friends 
 thought he lacked courage that they passed 
 over Count Hahn s insinuations in silence? 
 Could Elsa think him a coward ? She had 
 already turned away from him. He could see 
 her delicate nostrils quivering as the breath 
 came quickly through the parted lips. What 
 could be the opinion of the girl whose motto 
 was " For honor all " ? To her mind there was 
 but one way of vindicating wounded honor. 
 How she despised him at that moment ! She
 
 248 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 would have given any thing to be spared the 
 humiliation of having loved him. Could she 
 indeed have loved a man so entirely devoid of 
 noble instincts ; a man who submitted to taunts 
 from one inferior to him in intellect and 
 bearing ? He must indeed be a coward. She 
 thought of her young brother who died for 
 honor s sake. He had been a brave soldier, 
 and this man s words were an insult to his 
 memory. 
 
 She could seethe struggle in Uhlheim s face. 
 What would he say ? How would he act ? He 
 stood by the window with his hands clenched. 
 He could not quarrel before women. 
 
 " I can prove to you," he said in a significant 
 tone, " that there are other ways of defending 
 one s honor, Count Hahn. It is useless to dis 
 cuss the matter here." 
 
 He rose to pass them, and stood irresolute 
 before Elsa. She looked at him with undis 
 guised contempt, but his eager eyes met hers 
 fearlessly. 
 
 " Have I offended you ? " he asked. 
 
 She answered not in words, but the aversion 
 in her look condemned him, and he walked
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 249 
 
 out steadily into the night with his brain 
 afire. 
 
 " Who is that man ? " asked Count Hahn 
 carelessly. 
 
 " He is Victor s tutor," replied Elsa, calmly. 
 She seemed to take pleasure in depreciating him. 
 
 "Oh! indeed?" returned the count. "Of 
 course a man can t meet a fellow who isn t his 
 equal, you know." 
 
 " He is my friend," cried Louis de Vere, 
 springing to his feet. "And there is nothing 
 to prevent your meeting me." 
 
 " That was well said," exclaimed Donna, 
 holding out her hand to Louis. "Thank you." 
 
 Leopold rushed blindly away from the 
 house. A demon seemed to follow, bidding 
 him turn and strangle the man who had in 
 sulted him. On, on, he hurried into the depth 
 of the wood, beyond the sound of revelry. 
 There he sank exhausted at the foot of the 
 great oak in the forest. He had been branded 
 as a coward, and could not defend himself. Was 
 he a coward? Had he lost all impulse of self- 
 defense? No, he had been in the thickest of 
 the fight under his father s command. He was
 
 250 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 no coward. He scorned the imputation. If 
 Count Hahn wished to test his courage on 
 the morrow, when he had learned his position 
 at Kartlow, he would defend himself well 
 enough. He could laugh at the man who 
 insulted other men in the presence of ladies, 
 but could not forget so easily the look of con 
 tempt Elsa had given him. 
 
 The wind moaned through the trees. A storm 
 was brewing, and the clouds were rising to 
 obscure the moon. A sigh rose and fell on the 
 night air. It grew louder and louder, till it 
 filled the woods with a discordant shriek. It 
 was the Hexe of the forest, imprisoned in the 
 great oak that stretched its branches up to the 
 sky. How often had he heard her voice before ! 
 She had bewitched him, and her cries meant 
 disaster to the house of Strahl. He closed 
 his ears. Still it sobbed like a weary child, 
 and sank only to rise again till it filled his 
 heart and brain. He fought against its weird 
 influence in agony of mind. Was he going 
 mad? The night birds screamed at intervals. 
 The wind, soughing through the branches of 
 the great tree overhead, brought the voice
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 251 
 
 nearer with each gust, till it seemed to sur 
 round him and mock his pain. He turned 
 and fled up the path. He stumbled at every 
 step, but still he struggled onward as though 
 pursued by furies. At last he found himself 
 on the edge of the forest, not far from the 
 house. The voice seemed to leap ahead and 
 come to meet him in the form of an old Norse- 
 lied. He was on the bank of the stream, and 
 the castle loomed up dark across the water. 
 Hours might have passed since he left the castle, 
 for he was unconscious of the flight of time. The 
 lights were out, and the guests seemed to have 
 disappeared as if by magic. There was no sound 
 to break the stillness but the voice which 
 resounded everywhere. Its tone had changed. 
 The Hexe of the forest had pursued him to the 
 edge of her domain, to be replaced by a spirit 
 of light and love, whose bell-like tones seemed 
 fraught with human passion. Now it was the 
 garden scene in Faust, where Marguerite first 
 breathes her love to the silent night. The pic 
 ture was conjured up before Leopold s eyes by 
 the music, but the theme soon changed to one 
 of triumph, when Marguerite, having struggled
 
 252 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 and conquered, prays deliverance from her 
 earthly love and begs forgiveness for her sins. 
 Broad and grand the voice rose in its intensity. 
 It was no longer delusive, as it had been ir the 
 forest. It was replete with longing, and glow 
 ing life. He reached the terrace, and concealed 
 himself behind the statue of Flora. One 
 glance at the tower window, and he started 
 back with a cry. 
 
 In the window, seated at the piano, was the 
 girl whom he had characterized as cold 
 and soulless. She was the embodiment of 
 his mysterious voice. The power that had 
 held him in its thrall was no wicked Hexe 
 of the woods, but the fragile Undine known 
 as Elsa von Rabenhorst, whose power he 
 had laughed at and who despised him as a 
 co\vard. But not the Elsa he had known ! 
 Whence came the spirit shining from her 
 transfigured face, framed in golden hair ? 
 Was she listening to the angels who taught her 
 their songs? How blind and weak he had 
 been ! She had been within his grasp, had he 
 chosen to hold her, but now she had slipped 
 away from him forever, to soar like a bird on
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 253 
 
 the wings of sound. The melody changed, 
 and was accompanied by stormy chords, like 
 war horses champing at their bits, impatient to 
 be free. Her face glowed with excitement ; 
 her eyes gleamed like stars. It was the call of 
 Brunhilde to her Walkyre sisters a wild, half- 
 savage cry, that suited the personality of the 
 new Eha. She sang with all her power. The 
 clear tones rose above the wind outside, while 
 the wild galloping of the winged horses was 
 represented in great chords crashing like a 
 storm of thunder. What if she were sur 
 rounded by a crowd of listeners ; she sang to 
 his heart alone a song of triumph at her vic 
 tory ! Was she not free from his influence? 
 The hour had come when she need fear it no 
 longer. She was as unassailable as a rock. 
 She had conquered her weakness. The spirit 
 of the untamed Walkyre maid had entered into 
 her, and she had wrenched herself free from 
 him forever. Did she know that this man was 
 listening outside in the storm? Did she know 
 that she had swept him away by the strength 
 of her will? She cared not. For months she 
 had been pent up, powerless to express the
 
 254 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 emotions of her soul. Now the floodgates 
 were open, and she reveled in her music. Uhl- 
 heim raised himself and looked at this Elsa, 
 whom he had never known, and registered a 
 vow. 
 
 "Proud girl!" he cried, "you shall be 
 mine in spite of yourself! You have sought 
 to elude me, but it is in vain. Brunhilde, 
 you shall come to your Siegfried, and at 
 no distant day! You shall learn the danger of 
 rousing such passions in a man s soul as you 
 have in mine. Aristocrat though you be, you 
 shall love me, for I shall conquer!" 
 
 And the clouds hid the moon, while naught 
 was heard but the cry of Brunhilde, as she 
 came over the mountain top on her flying 
 
 steed. 
 
 ##$## 
 
 The clouds grew blacker. Thunder 
 sounded in the distance at intervals, and 
 the winds blew fiercely round the castle. 
 The watchman s steady cry rose as the 
 hours struck. All was quiet in the Schloss. 
 The lights were out, and every thing was 
 wrapped in slumber. Suddenly the storm
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 255 
 
 burst in fury above their heads, and awakened 
 the sleepers. Lights flickered through the 
 house, showing that the people were awake and 
 stirring. The crashing thunder, simultaneous 
 with the glare of the lightning, seemed to shake 
 the very earth. One flash, more terrific than 
 the last, and a cry rose. The bolt had struck ! 
 Elsa slipped on her wrapper and crept to the 
 window. The darkness outside was intense. 
 Hurried footsteps were heard through the cor 
 ridor, and Berthe and Sophie joined her. 
 
 " It is the laundry ! " cried Berthe, as the fire 
 leaped from the thatched roof almost in front 
 of the tower window. 
 
 "See ! there go the sheep," she added, as the 
 shepherds peculiar cry rose above the storm, 
 calling the sheep to follow to a place of safety. 
 
 "Is there danger to the animals?" asked 
 Elsa. 
 
 " No, not yet. The fire has not reached the 
 outhouses. The only danger will be to the 
 Schloss, if the wind blows this way." 
 
 By this time the roof burned brightly, and 
 they could see the men \vith a long hose and 
 ladders trying to extinguish the flames.
 
 256 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 " Oh, the storks ! The poor storks ! " cried 
 Sophie. " Their nest is in danger." 
 
 A cry came from the door leading to an 
 inner room, as little Heine put his head out to 
 learn the cause of the noise which had aroused 
 him from his slumbers. 
 
 His pets were in danger. 
 
 Quick as thought, he wrapped his little coat 
 around him. No one would think of the storks 
 but him. They must be saved. He crept out 
 stealthily, fearful that Schwester Elsa might 
 hear him and frustrate his plans. 
 
 Five minutes passed. The fire was gaining 
 headway, and creeping nearer to the end of 
 the thatched roof. The flames licked up the 
 straw in their progress, which was unchecked 
 by the heavy rain. 
 
 Suddenly a cry rent the air. 
 
 " Heine ! Heine ! My brother ! where are 
 you ? " 
 
 Elsa looked in the little bed. It was empty. 
 Where was the child ? She rushed back to the 
 window. The fire lighted up the scene with awful 
 splendor, and under the eaves she saw the child 
 amid the smoke and flame, trying to save the
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 257 
 
 little stork in the nest, while the parent birds 
 circled crying above his head. 
 
 Elsa waited to see no more, but ran screaming 
 through the halls out through the veranda door 
 to the terrace. She rushed into the garden 
 toward the burning building, where little Heine 
 had gone to meet his death, unless some brave 
 hand should intervene to save him. 
 
 All was confusion below. Victor, Leopold 
 and Louis de Vere were in the thickest of the 
 danger. Even Count Hahn was sharing their 
 responsibility. 
 
 "Victor!" Uhlheim was saying, "go back 
 into the house, you can do absolutely no good 
 here and may kill yourself." 
 
 " I don t care ! " was Victor s answer. " It is 
 my place. These are my people." 
 
 Uhlheim put his arm around him. 
 
 " Be reasonable ! I will do all that you 
 could do. A man s strength is needed. For 
 God s sake, listen to reason." 
 
 At that moment Elsa came running toward 
 them. 
 
 " Heine ! " was all she could gasp. 
 
 She seized Leopold s arm, and pointed up-
 
 258 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 ward to the roof, where the storks nest had 
 been for half a century. They looked up 
 and saw the frightened face of the child, who 
 was struggling with the little stork as he 
 tried to shield it under his coat from the 
 flames. 
 
 Without a word, Leopold sprang forward, 
 and was lost in the lower part of the building. 
 In a few seconds, it seemed hours to Elsa, he 
 reappeared in the window through which Heine 
 had found his way, and seizing the boy in his 
 strong arms turned to descend. But escape 
 was cut off, the stairs had fallen in. Then they 
 raised ladders against the tottering walls. The 
 heat was intense. It seemed to scorch the air 
 they breathed. He at last gained the ladder, 
 and, after a perilous descent, reached the 
 ground, and stood beside Elsa with his precious 
 burden. 
 
 Elsa turned to Uhlheim. What should she 
 say to this hero who had risked his life to save 
 her brother from the flames ? 
 
 She looked up and met his eyes. There \vas 
 no response in them. She remembered the 
 glance of silent contempt which she had given
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 259 
 
 him at the ball. In her heart she had called 
 him coward. She was stung with remorse. 
 How could she win his pardon? 
 " Herr Uhlheim ! " 
 
 "Don t thank me, Fraulein," he said coldly. 
 "Any one would have done it. Do not feel 
 indebted in any way." 
 
 She deserved the rebuke. He had already 
 turned back to direct the firemen. But she 
 would live to repay him some day in spite of 
 himself. Then Louis de Vere carried little 
 Heine into the Schloss with his lately rescued 
 pet, while the old birds flew around him and 
 followed closely. 
 
 To Elsa it all seemed like a dream. She had 
 seen Uhlheim as he crouched outside by the 
 statue of Flora the night before. She had 
 hurled her defiance at him through the medium 
 of her voice, but the bolt had fallen on herself. 
 Her power had been invoked in vain. He 
 looked at her with indifference, and ignored 
 her thanks and evident penitence. Had she 
 tried him too far, and would he ever forgive 
 her? Now that she was in his debt, he 
 must be satisfied. Despair at her failure
 
 260 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 overpowered even the very feeling of thank 
 fulness for her brother s safety, and she 
 spent the hours until daylight in passionate 
 tears.
 
 XV. 
 
 THE sun rose bright and glorious on the 
 ruins. The Schloss had been saved by 
 great effort, and the only damage done was to 
 the laundry. The animals and the great out 
 houses and barns were uninjured ; thanks to the 
 brave efforts of the people. Several trees had 
 been blown down in the wood, among others 
 the great oak where the Hexe was imprisoned. 
 Never would her wailing be heard more, for 
 she had escaped to other lands to bewitch other 
 mortals who might fall victims to her wiles. 
 Heine still slept, exhausted by his recent adven 
 ture. He had suffered nothing more serious 
 than a burned hand, which would soon heal. 
 Elsa appeared at breakfast as usual. Leopold 
 had his arm in a sling, but he made light of his 
 sufferings, and laughed off the anxious inquiries 
 of Frau von Althaus and the troubled guests. 
 He was the hero of the hour. 
 
 " Heine was right to save the storks," he
 
 262 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 said lightly. " There would be no luck about 
 the house if any thing happened to them. 
 However, I ought to have anticipated him and 
 saved him a disagreeable accident." 
 
 " How did you find your way up there so 
 readily ?" asked Victor. " It would have puz 
 zled me." 
 
 "Heine had already introduced me to it 
 some time ago. It was a favorite haunt of his, 
 but one could have ascended just as well by 
 the ladders." 
 
 Uhlheim was sitting in the window of the 
 dining-room, overlooking the driveway that 
 led to the Schloss. 
 
 "How high is the thermometer?" asked 
 Count Hahn, as he approached the great ther 
 mometer hanging near Leopold. 
 
 " I once knew an Englishman who said he 
 was all at sea in Germany, because he never 
 knew how cold he was, how far distant from a 
 given point he might be, how much he weighed, 
 how much money he paid for any thing, nor 
 how much he had bought when it was paid 
 for." 
 
 " It would be a convenience to have weights
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 263 
 
 and measures alike in every country," said 
 Frau von Althaus. " I might add that I 
 wish we all spoke the same language. The 
 English language, for instance, is so difficult. 
 There are absolutely no rules for pronunciation, 
 and when you do acquire it, after strenuous 
 effort, it sounds as though one had a violent fit 
 of choking." 
 
 " Herr Uhlheim," said Count Hahn, " I wish 
 to apologize for my conduct. I was laboring 
 under a misapprehension. I could not but 
 admire the manly courage you displayed last 
 night in a trying moment." 
 
 He held out his hand, which Leopold grasped. 
 
 His generous apology silenced any resent 
 ment Leopold might have felt. Moreover, the 
 dangers of the preceding night, which they had 
 shared together, were not to be forgotten so 
 readily. 
 
 The guests looked tired after the recent 
 excitement, and were already talking of return 
 ing home. 
 
 Elsa was pale and listfess. The experience 
 she had passed through during the last hours 
 had told upon her nervous force.
 
 264 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 " We are to go in three days," said Berthe, 
 with a sigh. " It is getting too cold for us 
 here." 
 
 "When do you come back again?" asked 
 Louis de Vere. 
 
 " Ah ! when ? " she answered. " Don t ask 
 me. It will be a long exile, I fear." 
 
 Her cheeks were beaming with health her 
 eyes were as blue as sapphires. 
 
 What had she to fear ? But, even in her gay 
 moments, the shadow that hung over her 
 brother and sister fell on herself. Poor, gay, 
 laughing Berthe ! 
 
 " To think that the old dames in the village, 
 who have been croaking about the Hexe in the 
 forest, should be doomed to disappointment ! " 
 cried Victor, bursting in upon them suddenly. 
 " The Hexe of the forest, our pet ghost, that 
 has done us such good service in foretelling all 
 our deaths for generations, has fallen." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " cried the Strahl 
 girls in chorus. 
 
 " I mean that the old oak in the forest has 
 been blown down in the storm and disclosed 
 the secret of our wailing Hexe, whom we
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 265 
 
 thought so justly imprisoned for her wicked 
 ness within its bark." 
 
 " The secret ! What secret ? Explain, Vic 
 tor," said Frau von Althaus. 
 
 "The Hexe exists no longer, her charm is 
 destroyed. Know, then, that she was a deceiver, 
 like the rest of her sex. Up in the topmost 
 branches of the old oak we have found a primi 
 tive ^Eolian harp, placed there when the tree 
 was young by one of our eccentric ancestors, 
 and forgotten by later generations. There is 
 but a fragment of it left, and it is of curious 
 design, but it served its purpose. When the 
 wind blew in a certain direction, it uttered a 
 peculiar wail, and the gossips in the village 
 wagged their heads and predicted disaster to a 
 Strahl. It will be all over now. The house 
 will be unassailable henceforth, and the old 
 women will be out of business. Eh, Uhlheim ? 
 This should be a choice bit for you who always 
 laugh at such things." 
 
 But for once Uhlheim refrained from jesting. 
 The Hexe of the forest was no longer to him a 
 phantom, but flesh and blood. His experience 
 was too recent and serious to be turned off by 
 a jest.
 
 266 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 Then a carriage was seen approaching from 
 the village. 
 
 " It is the Rabenhorst livery," observed 
 Sophie. " Elsa, your father." 
 
 But it was unnecessary to warn Elsa. She 
 was already standing in the great portico, 
 waiting to be clasped in her father s arms. 
 
 "Papa! papa!" she sobbed on his breast. 
 "Thank heaven you are here." And then she 
 told him of Heine s adventure, and how he had 
 been lost and saved by the bravery of Leopold 
 Uhlheim. After the first greetings were over, 
 she led the old general to the broad window 
 where Leopold was still standing a little apart, 
 and introduced him. 
 
 " It is impossible ! " exclaimed the general, 
 as he grasped Leopold s uninjured hand in both 
 of his. "You must be a son of my old friend 
 and companion at arms, General Uhlheim, of 
 Vienna. To think that Elsa should have been 
 in the same house with you so long without 
 telling me." 
 
 Elsa blushed and hung down her head. This 
 man whom she had despised, was the son of a 
 general and an illustrious man.
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 267 
 
 " How is this, child ? I am glad to see you. 
 You are like my old friend, as he was when we 
 were gay lieutenants together. You know I 
 was in the Austrian army in my youth. So 
 you saved my boy ? Another link in the chain 
 of friendship which shall never be broken. 
 Never. Your father went off very suddenly. 
 He was a brave soldier, and his memory is an 
 honor to his son." 
 
 Leopold s heart was too full to speak. He 
 grasped the hand of Elsa s father in silence. 
 His father had risen from the ranks by force of 
 will to a high position in the army. This 
 tribute to his memory from a soldier and the 
 head of a noble house, made in the presence of 
 the girl who had despised him because of his 
 position, was a triumph indeed, but Leopold 
 felt only sorrow for her humiliation. He knew 
 that her heart was noble and true, and her 
 faults were those of training or pride. 
 
 "We are glad to have you introduce Herr 
 Uhlheim properly," said Frau von Althaus, 
 while the guests witnessed the scene in inter 
 ested silence. " He has been so obstinate in re 
 fusing to let me say a word about his history."
 
 268 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because, Herr General," explained Leo 
 pold, " I was here as Victor s tutor." 
 
 "As Victor s tutor! " echoed the general, in 
 surprise. 
 
 "Yes, since my father s financial disaster, I 
 have had to work. I could not be an idler. Per 
 haps I wished to be taken on my own merits," 
 he said, smiling. 
 
 " A great mistake, my son," said the old man. 
 "Your merits may be great, but your father s 
 were greater." 
 
 And Leopold thanked fortune that the imme 
 diate cause of his father s death \vas unknown. 
 His name was still honored among men. The 
 world never guessed his secret, for his son 
 had saved his father s memory from suspi 
 cion. 
 
 " I have come to take Elsa home. Fraulein 
 von Klein is worn quite to a shadow from 
 loneliness. Are you ready, Elsa ? " 
 
 " Quite, papa." 
 
 " Wake Heine and prepare then." 
 
 " I am afraid we shall have to take the storks 
 too."
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 269 
 
 "We have pets enough at home," growled 
 the old general. 
 
 " There s the old nest on the stables," sug 
 gested Elsa. 
 
 " Oh ! We ll transplant them, then, since the 
 Kartlow nest is burned. May they thrive ! " 
 
 "Then, Herr Uhlheim, we shall see you at 
 Rabenhorst," added the general, as he shook 
 hands with Leopold. 
 
 " With your permission, some time." 
 
 " Nay, some time is no time. Let it be next 
 week." 
 
 " Thank you ! " answered Leopold. 
 
 The Rabenhorst carriage had driven up, and 
 the inmates of Kartlow stood at the door, 
 ready to bid the general and his daughter God 
 speed on their journey. Elsa alone was miss 
 ing. Uhlheim saw her from his window as she 
 stood on the terrace with drooping head, as 
 though taking farewell of the scene where she 
 had passed so many happy days. An impulse 
 seized him to go down and speak with her, to 
 learn from her last words whether she loved
 
 270 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 him. Would she give him a word of reassurance 
 to brighten the days of separation that must 
 ensue? For this Elsa, revealed through the 
 voice, he would strive to win renown. 
 
 When he reached the veranda she had paused 
 at the foot of the steps to pick a rose. Her 
 face was averted, but she was conscious of his 
 presence, and the color stole into her cheek. 
 
 " Gnadiges Fraulein, I come to say good-by. 
 We part in a moment, each to go his way." 
 His voice fell. Where was his assurance? 
 
 " Was this all he had to say? " she thought, 
 with a sinking heart. Yes, they must part as 
 casual acquaintances. 
 
 " I am going very far away," he continued, 
 in a low voice. 
 
 " You are going away? "she said quickly. Of 
 course, he could not stay at Kartlow after they 
 had all gone. But it occurred to her with 
 renewed force, that when the Strahls were gone 
 there would be nothing to bring him back to 
 Mecklenburg. 
 
 "Yes," he answered, looking off at the dis 
 tant park. " My life has been useless and self 
 ish. But now I have found an aim to live and
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 271 
 
 work for. Tell me that you will think of me," 
 he said, turning toward her. 
 
 " You saved my brother s life," she faltered. 
 
 " I don t want your gratitude," he cried. 
 "Are you not the voice?" 
 
 " But the voice may be a false guide. We 
 sing of what we would be, not of what we 
 are." 
 
 "Then you understood my story?" 
 
 " You told it by the pond. I fancied you 
 might have heard me singing to poor Stina on 
 the night she died." 
 
 "You sang to me. It was fate. If you knew 
 this, why did you not reveal yourself?" 
 
 " Why should I, Herr Uhlheim? "she replied, 
 with a touch of her old, haughty manner. 
 
 "True, you could not know what it meant to 
 me. I am going away to a distant land to win 
 laurels or die." 
 
 She raised her head quickly and met his 
 eyes. To win laurels or die ! What did he 
 mean? 
 
 Then it flashed over her. He would risk his 
 life to win laurels for her. He loved her and 
 would do her honor. The world was bright
 
 272 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 again, the birds sang in her ears, and her heart 
 was in a tumult. 
 
 "Oh! no," she cried. " The laurels would be 
 but withered leaves if they were won at the 
 cost of your life." 
 
 " But I shall bear a charmed life," he returned, 
 seizing her hand and pressing it to his lips, 
 " if you will think of me." 
 
 Her lips half parted in a smile; he looked 
 into the depths of her fearless eyes and read her 
 answer. 
 
 Then she escaped from his grasp and reached 
 the door. Here she turned to look at him, and 
 it was thus that he remembered her during long 
 months of exile. And when the Rabenhorst 
 carriage drove through the Kartlow gates, fol 
 lowed by good wishes, Donna came speeding on 
 her horse to tell them at Kartlow that Matilda 
 was dead.
 
 XVI. 
 
 WHEN Frau von Waldbeck came home 
 from the ball at Kartlow, a desire to see 
 her rebellious child rose in her heart. For the 
 first time in her life she had a doubt as to the 
 justice of her course. Something in Matilda s 
 defiant attitude as she raised the crucifix 
 filled the imperious mother with awe. She was 
 suddenly confronted with her own spirit in the 
 daughter. The wind blew fiercely outside, as 
 she crept through the silent house to Matilda s 
 room. The lattice swung violently back and 
 forth, but the noise did not wake the sleeper. 
 Her mother closed the blind with difficulty, and 
 bent over the bed. She shaded the candle 
 with her hand, and bent lower. Then a shriek 
 resounded through the corridors and roused the 
 household. 
 
 Matilda was dead. Her life had gone out
 
 274 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 like the flickering flame of a spent candle, and 
 she was insensible to her mother s caresses. 
 
 The proud woman shut herself up with her 
 grief. What happened in that desolate cham 
 ber no one ever knew, but when the sun was 
 high in the heavens the door of Matilda s little 
 sitting-room opened and the bereaved mother 
 stepped forth, a changed woman. There was no 
 trace of tears on the pale face. It bore the 
 calmness of despair. No one should see her 
 weep. She would bear her grief alone. 
 
 She sent for Donna, and it was nearly noon 
 when she arrived. 
 
 Matilda lay with the crucifix still in her 
 hands. So she had died. So should she 
 be buried. The eyes were closed, and a 
 smile played round the plaintive mouth. Her 
 long hair was combed and braided. No hand 
 had touched her but her mother s, for the 
 little offices, refused in life, had been voluntarily 
 given in death. 
 
 Donna fell on her knees beside the bed, and 
 burst into violent sobbing. 
 
 The mother eyed her curiously, for she could 
 weep.
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 275 
 
 " My poor little darling," Donna murmured. 
 "To die thus, all alone, while we were dancing ! 
 It is terrible." 
 
 " She was not alone," answered the mother, 
 as she pointed to the crucifix. 
 
 " I have sent for you, Donna," she began, 
 with effort, " to know my child s secret. What 
 killed her?" 
 
 Donna rose to her full height, her face was 
 clouded. Did this cruel woman not know 
 what had killed her daughter? 
 
 " Don t ask me," she replied, scornfully. 
 " Don t have me tell you all, for it would make 
 your hair turn gray, and God has punished you 
 enough." 
 
 Frau von Waldbeck raised her hand as 
 though to ward off a blow. 
 
 " I know all you would say. It is unneces 
 sary. What was her need ? Wherein did I 
 fail?" 
 
 She appealed to Donna, almost humbly. 
 
 " What drove her to that ? " she questioned, 
 pointing to the broken rosary on the floor. 
 " There must have been some reason." 
 
 " She told me, poor child, that you had
 
 276 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 denied her a mother s love," and Donna s voice 
 was broken by sobs. " She said she had turned 
 to the Mother of God because she had no 
 mother on earth." 
 
 "Not that, not that, Donna." 
 
 " Yes, every word is true. Oh ! did you not 
 think when the child came to you and clasped 
 her arms around your neck did you not think 
 that your coldness would drive her to seek love 
 elsewhere? She could not live without love, 
 and she died for lack of it." 
 
 " I can not bear this, Donna. Perhaps you 
 are right ; but it is so sudden, so sudden. I 
 must get accustomed to the thought that she is 
 gone forever, and that I can make no repara 
 tion in this world." 
 
 She stood by the foot of the bed, and clasped 
 her hands in agony. 
 
 " You are sure that she had no other grief. 
 The doctor thought she might have had some 
 secret trouble. Is this all you have to tell 
 me?" 
 
 Donna hesitated. She had no proof of the 
 sorrow hidden so carefully by the unselfish 
 child for fear of hurting her best friend, and
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 277 
 
 since Matilda had not confided the secret of 
 her love to her mother, why should she tell it? 
 It was dead with her. 
 
 " You do not answer." Her voice was 
 unnatural in its calmness. 
 
 " If she had any thing else on her mind, I did 
 not share her confidence," was the answer. 
 
 " Donna, I may have misjudged you in times 
 past. Pardon me. I thank you for your kind 
 ness to my little girl my poor little Matilda!" 
 
 Her voice broke as she spoke the name. 
 
 " Of course it is better for her. She did not 
 know the world. She had not suffered. See 
 how calmly she sleeps ! Like a child. You 
 will come again, some day when I am stronger." 
 
 She held out her hand and Donna kissed it. 
 
 " Dear Frau von Waldbeck, let me do some 
 thing for you. Any thing in this world." 
 
 But Matilda s mother waved her back with 
 dignity. 
 
 " Thank you. I may ask you some time for 
 Matilda s sake, but now " 
 
 Donna felt herself dismissed. Stooping, she 
 pressed one kiss on the fair brow of the dead 
 girl and went quickly away. She did not see
 
 278 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE, 
 
 Frau von Waldbeck again until after the funeral. 
 The child lay on her bier, as she had been found 
 that fatal day at Kartlow, in a bed of water- 
 lilies, her favorite flower. And as the long pro 
 cession of carriages drove slowly toward the 
 cemetery, Donna sought Matilda s mother in 
 her chamber. Her imperious manner had dis 
 appeared, and her tone was subdued. She 
 moved as though in a dream, seeming hardly 
 conscious of her surroundings. 
 
 The day after the funeral Kartlow was closed 
 for an indefinite period. The Strahls had waited 
 to attend Matilda s funeral, and then left for the 
 South. Donna had seen Louis de Vere at the 
 services, but she had not spoken to him. It 
 seemed treachery to the dead. Possibly at the 
 moment when they had been dancing at the 
 Kartlow ball together, Matilda was breathing 
 her last in that silent chamber, alone and for 
 gotten. 
 
 She hardly dared raise her eyes to recognize 
 him. Her whole mind was engrossed in Matil 
 da s dying hours. As yet she had given no 
 thought to the future. Elsa had already gone 
 back to Rabenhorst. Uhlheim had disappeared
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 279 
 
 from Kartlow called away, no one knew 
 whither. Desolation seemed to have fallen on 
 the country where they had been so merry 
 during two months of summer. 
 
 Lita s wedding passed off quietly, and as the 
 winter came on, Anna was presented at the 
 Court of Schwerin and very favorably received. 
 
 Later Donna went to visit one of the late 
 Princess Caroline s maids of honor, who 
 was married in Berlin. Here she met Janette 
 de Vere, but she did not meet Louis. He 
 seemed tacitly to understand that the time had 
 not yet come when she could see him. 
 
 The winter sped away. Elsa lived at Raben- 
 horst very much as formerly. She made light 
 of her father s suggestion that she should go 
 to Schwerin and be presented at court with her 
 young friends. She was quite happy at Raben- 
 horst with Heine and her music. Next year 
 would do as well ; she still had time before her. 
 She had heard that Leopold had joined 
 the English army in the East, through some 
 vague allusion from Berthe Strahl, who wrote 
 from Madeira. Cheerful, hopeful letters they 
 were. Victor had given up his violin because
 
 28o THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 it reminded him of Mecklenburg, and " Heim- 
 weh" was an unpleasant malady. They were 
 all quite well and enjoying the balmy air, so 
 different from the cold of the North. During 
 the long winter evenings Elsa spun by the fire 
 side, and the old Fraulein nodded beside her, 
 just as she had done last year and the years 
 before. Heine, grown taller and stronger since 
 the adventure at Kartlow, came and begged 
 for his stork stories, and Elsa would stop 
 her spinning and weave a fantastic tale to 
 suit his fancy. His pets had long since 
 flown south. It was a question whether they 
 would return next year to Kartlow, as of yore, 
 or find their way back to their new home 
 in the peaked roof of the stables at Raben- 
 horst. In the stormy nights, when the surf 
 dashed against the cliff, Elsa would recall her 
 childish fancies. Her voice was never restricted 
 now. It rang through the silent Schloss in the 
 evening till the peasant would turn in his 
 bed and wonder if he had heard the mermaids 
 singing in his dreams. Fraulein von Klein 
 would start and pick up the stitches she had 
 dropped, muttering that the girl was crazy ever
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 281 
 
 since her wild visit to Kartlow, where she had 
 met the strange tutor with a history. The gen-" 
 eral was never tired of talking about Leopold, 
 and whenever he saw his name in the papers as 
 foremost in the fight he would say, " He was 
 a brave lad, just like his father." 
 
 But there were brave lads enough in good 
 old Mecklenburg, with lands and titles, who 
 would be proud to unite their riches and ancient 
 lineage with those of a Rabenhorst. Still Elsa 
 sang on and heeded not the Fraulein s grumb 
 ling. 
 
 Well she knew that her husband would be no 
 lord of Mecklenburg, since she was fated for 
 weal or woe to love a dark and handsome 
 stranger, who had neither land nor titles to his 
 name ; she had cast aside all repression, and 
 roamed through the house singing a love song, 
 or scoured the country on horseback to quiet her 
 restless spirit. However, she was not unhappy. 
 He would come some day, and she must await 
 his coming with patience. 
 
 The winter snows had melted, and the birds 
 were singing in the budding trees. Spring had 
 come. One day early in April, Elsa received a
 
 282 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 letter from Donna, telling, what Elsa had long 
 suspected, her love for Louis de Vere. " He 
 has been appointed to the Russian court, and 
 we are going together. I am happy, so happy ! " 
 and that was all. 
 
 The same mail brought the news of Berthe 
 von Strahl s death, like a bolt from a clear sky. 
 A sudden hemorrhage, and all was over. Frau 
 von Althaus would take Victor and Sophie to 
 Algiers the following winter. " Further and fur 
 ther from the Heimath," cried Elsa. Will they 
 ever return ? " and she drove over to the silent 
 Schloss at Kartlow as to a tomb. 
 
 She came back to the " Raven s Nest " with 
 
 9 
 
 sadness in her heart. They would never be 
 together again as in that happy summer! The 
 thought oppressed her. She avoided the 
 house, and passed through the garden. For the 
 first time in her life, her home seemed desolate^ 
 and her courage failed. Suppose he should 
 never come again ! Suppose he should be 
 struck down and die without knowing that she 
 loved him ! She ran up the rocks ; the surf 
 dashed against the cliff and rose in clouds of 
 spray almost to her feet. A mist was coming
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 283 
 
 in from the sea, and enveloping the land. 
 Usually the ocean aroused her spirits, but 
 to-day she was seized with a presentiment of 
 evil. He was dead! Never would he come 
 again ! Oh ! it was cruel ! She reviewed her 
 life at Kartlow. Each barbed word she had 
 uttered arose to confront her. How she had 
 misjudged him ! But her voice, in the night, 
 when she thought the world asleep, had 
 reached his ears. 
 
 He had read her soul without knowing who 
 was singing. Then she had held him in her 
 power. Why not now ? If he were dead, her 
 voice would draw his soul to hers. She must 
 see him once again, if only to tell him that she 
 had always loved him, even when she was most 
 cruel. And amid the thundering surf as it 
 dashed against the cliff, her lovely voice rose 
 in a song of love and death, piteous and 
 intense, so that the very sea-gulls seemed to 
 pause and listen. She clasped her hands above 
 her beating heart, and sent a prayer out over 
 the waves, and a message to the man she loved. 
 It was the same Norse melody that had reached 
 his ear on the night he lingered by the hut.
 
 284 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 
 
 Surely it must bring him back to her once 
 more. Oh ! if he knew the bitterness of her 
 regret, he would come back to her even from 
 the grave. The mist lifted. Did her eyes 
 deceive her? for at the foot of the rocks she 
 saw a shadowy form. His eyes were fixed 
 on her with doubt and longing, he was pale to 
 the lips, his head was bare, and the brown 
 hair curled about his damp brow ; his whole 
 soul seemed concentrated in that questioning 
 look. Yes, he was dead, but her voice had 
 called his spirit from over the sea, to meet hers 
 once more. 
 
 The mist sank and shut him out again ; still 
 she did not falter. The wild cry of the 
 Walkyre rose upon the air. She would call so 
 fiercely that the waves could not close over 
 him. Her power should hold him even as the 
 Lorelei s, till he rose to be clasped in her 
 embrace forever. Stimulated by her love and 
 fear, she sang with almost supernatural strength 
 the cry of Brunhilde on the mountains, till 
 the mist lifted again as if at her command. 
 Her strength was failing ; would he slip away 
 from her forever? Her voice sank to the
 
 THE MAGIC OF A VOICE. 285 
 
 pathetic Norselied he knew so well. She 
 had sung it at Kartlow when he had known her 
 only as a voice ; it was heart-breaking in its 
 strain. Yes, he was there, nearer and nearer 
 he came. She could see him distinctly, covered 
 with orders, which glittered as he moved. 
 How pale and changed he was, only his eyes 
 seemed alive, looking at her with intense 
 longing. Still she sang on, and, stretching out 
 her arms to him, her face transfigured by love 
 and despair, she cried : 
 
 " Is it thou, my beloved? Come." 
 With one bound he was beside her, his arms 
 closed around her, his lips were pressed to hers, 
 and with a cry she fainted in his arms. 
 
 Yes, there were explanations on both sides. 
 However, her delusion rendered much explana 
 tion unnecessary. But to this day she boldly 
 asserts that she called him back by the magic 
 of her voice, and who shall gainsay her? 
 
 END.
 
 Date Due 
 
 
 PRINTED IN U.S.A. 
 
 CAT. NO. 24 161