Spring, gentle spring, had thrown aside the funeral garb of winter, and earth awoke again to vigorous life.

Grinselhof reappeared in all the splendor of its wild, natural scenery; its majestic oaks displayed their verdant domes, its roses bloomed as sweetly as of old, elder-blossoms filled the air with delicious odor, butterflies fluttered through the garden, and every thicket was vocal with the song of birds.
Nothing seemed changed at Grinselhof: its roads, its paths, were still deserted, and sad was the silence that reigned in its shadows.

Yet immediately around the house there was more life and movement than formerly.

At the coach-house two grooms were busy washing and polishing a new and fashionable coach; while the neigh of horses resounded from the stable.

A trim waiting-maid stood on the door-sill laughing and joking with the lackeys, and a respectable old butler looked knowingly on the group.
Suddenly the clear silvery ring of a bell was heard from the parlor, and the waiting-maid ran in, exclaiming, "Good Heavens! there's Monsieur ringing for his breakfast, and it is not ready yet!" A few moments afterward she was seen mounting the staircase with a rich silver salver covered with breakfast-things; and, entering the parlor, she placed them silently on a table before a young gentleman who seemed entirely absorbed by his own thoughts, and then instantly left the room without a word.
The young man began his meal with a careless, indifferent air, as if he either had no appetite or did not know what he was about.