If anything could have diverted Gabrielle from her unwonted sadness, it would have been this visit to the capital, where she and her mother had been most graciously received. The Countess Selteneck was an old and intimate friend of the Baroness. She had been a frequent visitor at the Harders' house in the old days, and since the Baron's death had remained in constant correspondence with his widow. The pleasure felt by the ladies on meeting again was great and mutual, and the Countess, who had no children of her own, indulged and spoiled her friend's sweet daughter in every imaginable way.
The Baroness, on her arrival in town, came to hear of the attack which had been made upon Raven, but she was far too superficial to appreciate the real importance of the well-directed blow, which, in her eyes, was a mere passing annoyance, such as the rioting in R---- for instance. It never, in the remotest degree, occurred to her to suppose that the Baron's position might be imperilled by what had happened. His affairs, indeed, only interested her in so far as her own future might be involved in them. Madame von Harder did not pretend to the slightest sympathy or affection for her brother-in-law. She feared him, and that was all. Indignant she was, no doubt, at the "audacious impertinence of that Winterfeld," seeing in the young man's conduct only an act of revenge for the discomfiture he had met with, but she never for a moment doubted that the Baron would visit the rash offender with the chastisement which was his due. For the rest, she saw no reason why she should torment herself with all these tiresome, disagreeable matters, which would be set at rest long before she returned home. The autumn fashions, the evening parties, and the performances at the opera, were far more interesting, and, as she thought, better worth her attention.
That her daughter would not dream of renewing her engagement to the Assessor after the affront which the latter had put on the head of her family, this wise lady took for granted. All her care was given to preventing a meeting between the two, which was not difficult. George did not mix in the Selteneck circles; and here, amid these strange surroundings, Gabrielle was never left alone. She had, indeed, made no attempt to inform the young man of her presence in town, trembling at the very thought of a meeting with him. How could she approach George, while her heart was beating high with love for another man? Though so much had lately come between herself and Arno, she could not forget; not even his harshness and injustice could banish his image from her mind, and the knowledge that some danger threatened him served to quicken her affection. Gabrielle was better able than her mother to estimate the true bearings of the case. For weeks she had followed the course of events with feverish interest. She, who at other times never opened a paper, now sought with avidity every notice affecting the Baron, and caught at every remark made in conversation which bore on the one subject that engrossed her thoughts. Winterfeld's book, with its long list of charges, had set before the young girl's eyes Raven's true portrait, which she was forced to recognise as a faithful likeness, had displayed to her the darker side of his character--while, as opposed to it, George's figure rose before her, so pure and steadfast and nobly courageous in the sacrifice of his entire future and prospects to that which he deemed duty. But of what avail all this? Gabrielle's whole soul went back to the sombre, despotic man, who had won her to himself. In imagination she stood by his side through the fight; for his sake she grew anxious and apprehensive of the issue, while a feeling of bitterness rose up within her against George, for was it not he who had been the first to assail, to insult the man she loved?
The clock on the mantelpiece chiming the hour awoke Gabrielle from her dreams, and reminded her that it was time to prepare for the drive to the theatre. Throwing a light cloak round her shoulders, she drew on her gloves, and went down to the drawing-room, where her mother and Countess Selteneck were already awaiting her.
Countess Selteneck was of about the same age as the Baroness, but looked considerably younger, precisely, perhaps, because she gave herself far less trouble to preserve a youthful appearance. Though not beautiful, she captivated by her prepossessing manners, and a certain air of calm intelligence which inspired confidence and respect. Both ladies were in full evening dress.
"I can understand how much you must suffer from the constraint, and from the general position of affairs in your brother-in-law's house, Matilda," the Countess remarked; "but what will not a woman endure for her child's sake? Gabrielle's whole future is in his hands, and as his heiress she will one day have an almost princely fortune at her disposal. Your brother-in-law has given you decided promises on this head, I presume?"
"Oh, certainly," replied the Baroness. "He spoke to me on the subject soon after I arrived at his house, but I am afraid this unfortunate business with Assessor Winterfeld has called the whole matter in question again."
"There is something very winning and agreeable about the Assessor, I must say," observed the Countess, changing the theme. "I think I mentioned to you that I met him some weeks ago at a soirée, where, truth to tell, he was the cynosure of interest."
"Assessor Winterfeld the cynosure of interest?" asked the Baroness, half incredulous, half disdainful.
"Certainly. He has become a sort of celebrity, and enjoys special protection at the Ministry, so they tell me. He is received in the best circles, and is distinguished wherever he goes."