Then Flora came from the window and told the story. Indignantly, and with great distinctness, she portrayed the entire scene in the forest, of course never allowing it to appear that she had for a moment lost her courage or presence of mind, although she declared that in the midst of a throng of at least twenty furies even the strongest nature needed to summon up all its energy not to succumb to aversion and disgust.
Meanwhile, the Frau President paced the apartment in the greatest agitation, never heeding that her silken train rustled over the uneven floor in a way that might be torture to sensitive nerves. "What does the philanthropist say to all this?" she asked, at last, pausing to look at the doctor through her half-shut eyelids with intense irritation.
He answered not a word. His whole expression was that of calm strength as he stood holding Henriette's hand in his, seeming to have neither eyes nor thought for anything but the feeble spark of life which each moment threatened to extinguish.
The old lady again approached the bed, and leaned over the invalid.
"Herr Doctor," she said, after a momentary hesitation, "the case seems to me a very serious one. Shall we not call in my old experienced friend and physician, the councillor of medicine, Von Bär, in consultation? You must not take it amiss."
"Not in the least, Frau President," he said, laying the sick girl's hand, which just then moved convulsively, gently upon the bed. "It is my duty to do everything that can conduce to your satisfaction." He then quietly left the room to send for the required physician.
"Good heavens, what a mistake it was to bring Henriette here!" the Frau President exclaimed, in an under-tone, as soon as the door closed after him.
"Kitty is to blame for it," Flora rejoined, crossly. "It will be her fault if we are obliged to almost live in this tumble-down place for weeks to come——" And she glanced angrily towards the silent girl at the window.
"And what an oversight to place the poor child so that every time she opens her eyes she has a full view of that horrible stove! And these daubs on the walls!—'tis enough to frighten her!" As she spoke, the old lady turned away from her and examined the bed. "This seems to be tolerably comfortable,—the linen, at least, is white and fine; but I will send over Henriette's silken duvet, with a comfortable armchair for Doctor von Bär, and, above all, another toilette set. Stoneware!" she said, contemptuously, as she pushed aside the basin and pitcher upon the wash-stand to make room for the painted porcelain shortly to arrive. "Heavens, how wretchedly such people live! And they never feel it—— Do you wish for anything, my angel?" she interrupted herself, in a soft voice, as she hurried to the bedside.
Henriette had slowly lifted her head and looked about her for an instant; she had now sunk back again and closed her eyes, although her strength had sufficiently returned to enable her to push away her grandmother's hand as it attempted to stroke her own.