“I hope, sir, that you will not be offended with me if I express a wish to return to Austria,” said Rudolph, after a pause, nervously devoted to industrious crumbling.
“Indeed, Rudolph,” cried the baron, facing him with a disconcerting steadiness of gaze, “I am very seriously offended to hear you express such a wish. Your aunt and I have cherished the hope that you would find your stay with us pleasant enough to make your visit a prolonged one. What has upset you? If there is anything we can do to make you comfortable, I beg you will state your wishes and count them fulfilled.”
“Nothing, nothing indeed, I assure you. You and my dear aunt are kindness itself, and I am most truly grateful. But I am not happy, uncle. Do not blame me if I seem capricious.”
“I cannot help it if I am perplexed and grieved. I think I should feel less troubled in Rapolden Kirchen, that is all,” Rudolph slowly explained, bending his head with apparent anxiety over the little heap of crumbs he was making with his knife.
His uncle watching him narrowly saw the sensitive lips tremble under the soft moustache.
“Come, unveil the mystery, Rudolph,” he said with a quiet smile. “Who is the woman? For, Gad, it looks deucedly like a first prick of love. Nothing else smarts so keenly at your age.”
Rudolph shrank visibly from the coarse frank glance of worldly eyes directed upon a wound so intangible, so especially delicate, and yet open to misconstruction. To grieve about a woman argues the existence of the commoner sentiment, and he loathed the thought of his fine instinct being so misinterpreted. But could a bland and heavy ambassador, who smokes the best cigars and lounges on the softest cushions in irreproachable attire, skilful in gastronomy and a connoisseur in feminine points, be possibly expected to seize and rightly interpret the daintier emotions and pangs of a more exquisite and spiritual organism?
“There is nothing of that matter in my trouble, but I believe I am unfitted for society. I don’t like it; much that others, possibly wiser and better than I, hardly note offends me.”
“You find the charming illusions nurtured in the seclusion of Rapolden Kirchen rudely dispelled,” suggested the baron, looking what he felt, a trifle bored by the lad’s heavy earnestness, but admirably sustained by the comfort of good tobacco. “That happens to every one, though I have no doubt it would afford you immeasurable satisfaction to look upon your case as exceptional. All this is quite correct, since it is so, and if this very interesting and pleasant world realised the fastidious ideal of youth, my dear fellow, it would not be a fit place for any sensible man to live in. Be reasonable, Rudolph. Give poor society another chance before you decide to abandon it to inevitable perdition. There will be plenty of balls presently. Stay and see if you cannot reconcile your flighty imagination to a waltz or two with some pretty Athenians. You may not credit it, but there are two very pretty girls here.”