Call yourself Greif von Sigmundskron, and revive an ancient race
without letting your own die out.'
Greif was silent. It had not struck him that such an arrangement might
be possible, but he saw at a glance that Rex had dealt a telling blow
against his resolution. To have married Hilda as Greifenstein would
have always remained out of the question, to have chosen a common and
meaningless appellation would have seemed an insult to her, but the
idea suggested by Rex was alluring in the extreme. He knew how bitterly
both Hilda and her mother regretted the extinction of their family and
how gladly they would welcome such a proposal. By one stroke of the pen
Greifenstein and its memories would be detached from his future life,
and there would be something in their place, a name to make honourable,
a home in which to plant new associations--above all there would be
the love, the pride, the happiness of Hilda herself. He felt that his
determination was weakened, and he made a final effort not to yield,
scarcely knowing why he resisted any longer, since the possibilities of
the future had grown so suddenly bright. Rex saw at a glance that he
had made a deep impression upon his cousin, and wisely left the remedy
he had administered to take its effect gradually. He knew human nature
too well to fear that Greif could ever shut his eyes to the prospect
unveiled to him. Time must pass, and in passing must heal the gaping
wound that was yet fresh. Every month would take the ghastly tragedy
further away and bring more clearly to Greif's mind the hope of
happiness.
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