"Yes, yes, Frida," said he, in reply to the look of surprise with which the girl listened to this perpetual bickering. "Miss Clifford and I have an excessive mutual admiration. You see already, what great respect we show each other. But now it is time to start, or my brother will surprise us here."
Frida rose obediently. Jessie felt a deep sympathy with the poor girl who resigned herself so completely to the selfish plans of her lover, and bade her a hearty farewell.
Gustave accompanied Miss Palm to the carriage, which waited to take her back to the hotel; but just as they were descending the steps a second carriage drove up, and Sandow, whose office hours were now over, stepped out.
"My brother," said Gustave in a low voice.
Miss Palm must have stood greatly in awe of this terrible brother, for she suddenly turned deadly pale, and made an involuntary movement as if to fly, while the arm which rested in her companion's trembled violently.
"Frida!" said the latter, in an earnest, reproachful tone.
Frida struggled for composure, but her timidity this time was not the cause of her agitation. It was not the look of a startled dove which met the new arrival, but one in which lay gloomy, almost wild resistance, and the energetic side of her nature was shown so distinctly in her features that it seemed as if she were rather beginning a struggle with a dreaded enemy than trying to conciliate him.
Sandow had meanwhile entered, and met the pair face to face in the vestibule. He bowed slightly, but seemed surprised to see his brother accompanied by a perfect stranger.
Frida returned the greeting, but instead of stopping hastened anxiously forwards, and thus prevented the possibility of an introduction.
Gustave saw that it would be useless to try to effect it, so placed her in the carriage, closed the door, and directed the coachman to the hotel.