"Most gracious lady," she said, with a slight courtesy, "in consequence of a misunderstanding, I have become possessed of this slip of paper, and have just learned that it entails upon me duties which I cannot possibly undertake, for my parents are expecting me at home."
She handed the little slip to the baroness, who took it immediately, while a ray of actual sunshine broke over her features.
"I think you are in error, Fräulein Ferber," Herr von Walde suddenly interposed, in a clear, melodious voice. "It is incumbent upon you to excuse yourself to the gentleman whose name the paper contains; it rests with him whether he will release you or not." He scanned, with a peculiar smile, the company, who were dividing into couples and making ready for departure; even the old gentleman beside him approached the countess, and offered her his arm. Herr von Walde continued, as he slowly approached: "As master of the house, I cannot permit any want of consideration of one of my guests, wherefore I must beg you, Fräulein Ferber, to open the paper."
Elizabeth obeyed, and then handed him the open slip, with a crimson blush. He glanced at it.
"Ah!" he cried, "I have, as I see, defended my own rights. You must admit that I am fully justified in either accepting or refusing to accept your excuses. I prefer the latter course, and must entreat you strictly to comply with the injunctions laid upon you by that paper."
The baroness approached him, and laid her hand upon his arm. It looked as if she were almost struggling to suppress her tears.
"Forgive me, dear Rudolph," she said, "it is really not my fault."
"I do not know to what fault you allude, Amalie," he replied, with icy coldness; "but you certainly choose the right time in which to ask forgiveness,—-just at this moment I could easily forgive an injury."
He took his hat which a servant handed to him, and made the signal for departure.
"But my parents!" stammered Elizabeth.