"I cannot find Herr Reinhold anywhere in the house, so had better deliver the flowers here at once."
Ella looked down in surprise at the beautiful bouquet which, arranged with as much skill as taste, showed a selection of the most perfect flowers.
"From whom are the flowers?" asked she.
"From the garden," answered Jonas. "Herr Reinhold ordered them, and I have brought them; but as I cannot find him--"
"That will do. You can go," broke in Hugo, as he stepped quickly to his sister-in-law's side, and put his hand on her arm as if to stop her. A sign gave more stress to his order, and Jonas rolled away, but could not help wondering that the young Frau Almbach received her husband's attention in so peculiar a manner. She had started suddenly, as if she had been seized with a pain at her heart, and become ashen white. But the Captain stood there with knitted brows, and an expression on his face as if he should have liked best to throw the expensive flowers out of the window. Fortunately, Jonas was too phlegmatic to trouble himself much about the state of affairs in the Almbachs' house; owing to the warlike footing on which he stood to the servants he learned but little about it; so, after wondering slightly, he gave it up, and being satisfied he had executed his orders conscientiously, troubled himself no more about the giver of them.
Deep silence reigned a few seconds in the room. Ella still held the bouquet convulsively in her hand, but her usually quiet, listless countenance, with its vacant, almost stupid expression, had changed curiously. Now every feature was dilated as if in agonising pain, and her eyes remained fixed and immovable upon the gay, blooming beauty, even when she turned to her brother-in-law.
"Reinhold gave the order?" she asked, as if striving for breath, "then the flowers only came by mistake to me!"
"Why then," said Hugo, with a vain attempt to soothe her, "Reinhold ordered the flowers; well, surely they are for you?"
"For me?" Her voice sounded full of pain. "I have never yet received flowers from him; these are certainly not intended for me."
Hugo saw he could not hesitate any more; chance had decided for him; now he must obey fate's signal. "You are right, Ella," he replied firmly, "and it would be useless and dangerous to deceive you any longer. Reinhold did not say for whom the flowers were, but I know that this evening they will be in Signora Biancona's hands."