my boy's fault and due to
his innate diffidence and reticence. Nevertheless he has qualities for
which he could easily be loved, if they were known, if he allowed them
to appear. Don't you agree, Olga? You are fond of him too: it is not
only my own blind mother's love that finds my son lovable and
sympathetic? And that is why I should be so very glad if Herman would
take him with him and learn to know him better: who knows whether they
would not then come to love each other! Othomar has already told me
that, on their journey through the north of Liparia, they were drawn
much closer together than they had thought they would be; but it was a
busy time: every moment was filled with duties and business and they had
no time to talk together and get to know each other. And yet, at such a
difficult period of united labour, two young men can learn to know each
other even without talking. At any rate, they have already become more
friendly. At one time, Olga, they used to dislike each other, to my
bitter sorrow; they would even not meet; even outwardly there was
nothing but coolness between them: oh, how unhappy all this used to make
me, when I saw our boys so hostile to each other and remembered how _we_
used to be, Olga, when we were girls together in our beautiful old
castle near Bucharest! How we lived bound up in each other! Olga, Olga,
how terribly long ago that all is! Our parents are dead, our brothers
dispersed, the castle is deserted and we are separated: when do we see
each other? Scarcely now and then, for a couple of days at a time, when
we meet somewhere for a wedding of relations; and then these are always
restless days, when we can see next to nothing of each other. Then,
sometimes, not even every year, a fortnight either in Gothland or here.
You sometimes reproach me that I, who am so fond of Gothland, come to
you so seldom, but it is always for the same reason: Othomar does not
care to leave Liparia and I can't leave my husband. I can be strong when
I am at his side, but alone I am so weak, Olga. That anything might
happen to _him_ which I should not share increases my dread unbearably.
I felt that again quite lately, when I was with Thera at Altara: our
visit was announced and binding; and, however unwilling I was to leave
Oscar, I was obliged to go, was I not? It was just at that trying
period; Lipara was under martial law. But Oscar wished me to go and I
went. Oh, how I suffered at that time!

"But I am bec