'Yes, mother. I was going to send word over to Brunneck that they might reckon on our coming the day after to-morrow.'
'That is quite understood. Besides, Hedwig has repeated it in her note to her father. There is no necessity for you to add a message.'
'I obey orders, mother.'
The young Count, who had already gained the door, closed it rather reluctantly, appearing undecided as to whether he should return to his former seat or not.
'I give no orders,' said the Countess. 'I only mean that Hedwig will in all probability not be absent more than five minutes, and that you need not so anxiously seek a pretext for avoiding a tête-à-tête with me.'
'I!' exclaimed the Count. 'I have never----'
'You have never openly said as much,' his mother finished the phrase for him. 'No, my son, but I see and feel full well how you shun my company. And now I should not keep you with me had I not a request to make. Give up this wild search after excitement--these furious, protracted rides about the country. You will wear yourself out. Of my anxiety I will not speak. You have long ceased to heed it; but you can no longer deceive Hedwig with this constrained gaiety. She was speaking to me on the subject before you came in, saying how uneasy and unhappy she felt about you.'
The Countess spoke in a subdued tone. Her voice was low and lacked all ring; yet there ran through it a subtle thrill of pain. Edmund had drawn nearer slowly, and was now standing by the table before her. He did not raise his eyes from the ground as he replied:
'Nothing ails me. You are both troubling yourselves most unnecessarily on my account.'
The Countess was silent, but again there came that nervous working of the lips which Hedwig's words had previously called forth. It told what poor comfort this assurance gave her.