Karen now raised herself from Tante's shoulder; but, at the gesture of withdrawal, Madame von Marwitz caught her close again and embraced her. "I feared it," she said. "I saw it. I hoped to hide it by my flight. My poor child! My beloved Karen!"
They held each other for some silent moments. Then Madame von Marwitz rose. "You are weary, my Karen; you must rest; is it not so? I will send Tallie to you. You will see Tallie—she is a perfection of discretion; you do not shrink from Tallie. And you need tell her nothing; she will not question you. Between ourselves; is it not so? Yes; that is best. For the present. I will come again, later—I have guests, a guest, you see. Rest here, my Karen." She moved towards the door.
Karen looked after her. An intolerable fear pressed on her. She could not bear, in her physical weakness, to be left alone with it. "Tante!" she exclaimed.
Madame von Marwitz turned. "My child?"
"Tante—you are glad to have me back?"
Her pride broke in a sob. She hid her face in her hands.
Madame von Marwitz returned to the bed.
"Glad, my child?" she said. "For all the sorrow that it means? and to know that I am the cause? How can I be glad for my child's unhappiness?"
She spoke with a touch of severity, as though in Karen's tears she felt an unexpressed accusation.
"Not for that," Karen spoke with difficulty. "But to have me with you again. It will not be a trouble?"