She took up her pen again, but only for a few moments. In her agitation she bent her head, as towards a protecting talisman, over the violet she had just placed in a tiny vase of water, and inhaled its sweet cooling fragrance; she went to her piano and played a soothing, peaceful air; she opened one of the windows and stroked the tame doves perched upon the sill, trying to persuade herself meanwhile that the sending of the letter was in fact only a masked advance upon her pantry—but there must have been an evil spell in the mischievous envelope. She could no longer resist the impulse to open it, but pushed aside the pile of papers, and removed the cover.
As she did so a sealed enclosure fell from it. She did not notice it: her eyes wandering over the first page opened wide in amazement, and involuntarily, strong girl as she was, she grasped at some support. Flora wrote thus from Berlin:
——"You will laugh and exult, dear grandmamma, but I now see that it is best,—an hour ago I was betrothed to your former favourite, Karl von Stetten. He is uglier and more awkward than ever, and his bull-dog physiognomy is not improved by the blue spectacles he has lately begun to wear. Fi donc—I shall never be very proud to walk by his side, but his dog-like constancy to his really insane passion for me has moved me at last, and since through the unexpected death of his young cousin he has suddenly fallen heir to Lingen and Stromberg, and stands very well at court here and in society, I really had no further objection to make——"
The letter was tossed upon the table. Bruck was free,—no longer fettered so that he could not come to the castle mill. Ah, what a change after all these seven terrible months of torture, of effort to train and bend her stubborn heart,—to scourge each wandering thought so that she might attain at last to the strong stoicism that would enable her calmly to transfer the hated ring to the hand of his betrothed, and then to pursue her own course, lonely but blameless!
She covered her eyes with her hand, as if some phantom had appeared in the midst of her bewildering delight. Perhaps she had not read the words aright! Could it be so? Flora was betrothed? At the eleventh hour, after so many unsuccessful attempts to achieve fame, was she taking refuge in matrimony? Kitty again took up the thick perfumed sheet,—yes, yes, there it really was in the "sprawling hand." And then followed long and exact instructions as to how the betrothal was to be announced in the capital; and there was much talk of the marriage, which was to take place upon Easter Monday. Then came the invitation to her grandmamma to be present. This was all as clear as daylight; but the girl grew deadly pale and felt faint and sick as she read on. Flora wrote further:
"On my way to Berlin I stopped for a day or two at L——. It will interest you to hear that a certain Hofrath and Professor has achieved not only name and fame, but also won the heart of a fair countess. I was everywhere told that he has been privately betrothed to this charming patient of his, whose cure he effected after her case had been given over as hopeless by all other physicians. The noble parents are abundantly content with their daughter's choice, and the dear and pious old aunt has not refused to bestow her blessing upon the pair. I saw her seated beside them in a box at the theatre, as eminently peaceful and virtuous as ever, wearing, if I am not mistaken, cotton gloves upon her hands. The girl is very pretty,—a doll's face with no expression. And he?—I can speak out to you, grandmamma, and confess that I bit my lip until it bled, with vexation that stupid chance should have made this man the object of universal homage and consideration, and that he could stand there behind the chair of his betrothed so calm and self-assured, as if all this distinction were his by right, and as if he knew nothing of weakness or dishonour——! Let Kitty have the enclosed note——"
Yes, there it lay, closely sealed, upon the writing-table, bearing the address, "Kitty Mangold." The room grew dim about her, and the slip of paper trembled in the hands that shook as if with a fever-fit. It contained only these words:
"Have the kindness to deliver to the Countess Witte the ring entrusted to you, or, if you choose, throw it into the river after the other! FLORA."
Kitty suddenly grew calm; mechanically she folded up the note and laid it with the letter. Was the beautiful countess the guest for whom the guest-chamber had been prepared? She shook her head decidedly, and her brown eyes began to beam brightly as she clasped her hands upon her throbbing breast. Was she worthy ever to look him in the face again if she could doubt him for an instant? He had said, "I shall come at Easter;" and he would come, although the most brilliant eloquence should persuade her to the contrary. She would believe nothing save that he loved her and that he would come. No, no, a haughty lord might have the heart to present to his former love a proud new mistress of his home; but not he,—he in his singleness of soul. He would not break his promise to the miller's granddaughter for the sake of another, even were that other a countess.
An ecstasy possessed her soul in which all thought seemed lost. She flew to the southern window to get one glimpse of the dear old house. A gay flag was floating above its roof. Had the guests arrived, then? Should she hasten to embrace the dean's widow? No, agitated as she was, she could not go. She must banish the traitorous colour from her cheeks and quiet the throbbing of her heart before she could meet the gentle lady's clear kindly eye. Rest, rest! She went to her writing-table.