She was engaged, secretly engaged, for the good fellow would not come before his friend in all his bridegroom's bliss, when his happiness was so utterly shattered. So they had plighted their troth secretly--after the bowl of _mai-trank_ on that last day. Aunt Rosa was no check upon them, for she slept placidly in the corner of the sofa, and Frank--Heaven alone knew when he had gone.
But now--she looked at her pretty little hands; yes, there were ink-stains on them; she had sent off the news at once to Frankfort: "Great fire, great anxiety, great reconciliation."
She found herself suddenly before a stout little man in a gray summer overcoat and a white straw hat.
"Oh, ta, ta! little one, don't run over me!"
He was very cross, this good Uncle Henry.
"Pretty state of affairs! A man comes from Hamburg, travelling all night, and hardly is he out of the train when some one comes: 'Mr. Baumhagen, did you know there had been a great fire in Niendorf?' Tired as a dog as I was, I must needs get into a carriage and drive out here--a man can't sleep after such a piece of news as that. For mercy's sake, you are smiling as if it was Christmas eve!"
"All the crops are burnt," announced Adelaide in as joyful a tone as if she had said, "We have won a great prize."
"The poor fellow has ill-luck," muttered Uncle Henry. "Has some one gone over to--" He would not speak her name--"to--well, to 'Waldruhe?' Or has the announcement of the joyful news been left for me again?"
"No one has been there," replied Adelaide, mischievously.
"Well, what's up then, you witch? Something has happened."
"I am engaged," burst out the happy little bride. Thank Heaven, that she could tell it at last.
"You unhappy child!" cried Uncle Henry, by way of congratulation. But she ran laughing away into the house.
"Breakfast is ready!" she cried from the terrace. "Coffee, tea, ham and eggs."
The old gentleman, who was going out to view the wreck, turned sharply round and followed her.
"It is true," he remarked, "I shall be better for having something to eat, I am quite upset by the journey."
And Uncle Henry went puffing up the steps and grasped the door-knob.
Good Heavens!--did his eyes not deceive him? There sat Linden, his arm in a sling, and beside him--surely he knew that thick brown knot of hair and that slender figure which was bending, down to cut up his meat. Now she raises her head and kisses him on the forehead before she quietly resumes her own place.