CHAPTER XIV.
The baroness had missed Helen's letter the same evening. This discovery caused her no small dismay. The letter might so easily fall into wrong hands--hands that might return it to the girl, and thus expose her in her own daughter's eyes to sad disgrace! She should then irretrievably lose all the advantage which she had obtained by this insight into Helen's state of mind, and which she thought of rendering profitable to herself by frequent allusions and threatenings. It was unlucky, extremely unlucky!
The baroness remembered very distinctly having put the letter into the pocket of her dress as Felix was coming up the avenue. The probability therefore was, that she had lost it near the chapel. She remembered also having pulled put her handkerchief once during the conversation, in order to play the offended lady with greater effect. But it was too late that night to make any search for it; she had to spend a sleepless night, and wake up next morning with a violent headache. As soon as she could, she went into the garden and to the chapel. There was no letter to be seen, neither there nor in the beech avenue nor in the bower. Very much disconcerted, the baroness returned to the house.
There new trouble awaited her. Oswald sent word that Bruno had passed a sleepless night and was very unwell; would it not be better to send a messenger on horseback for Doctor Braun? He also begged that Malte might be kept down stairs, as he wished Bruno to be alone till the doctor came. The baroness sent back word that she hoped his indisposition would soon be over, and cause no interruption in the regular lessons. As for the doctor, she would let him know when they sent to town.
A few hours afterwards Felix sent his excuses for not coming to breakfast; he was quite unwell, but would be certainly down to dinner.
Felix was indeed rather worsted by his encounter with Bruno. First and foremost, the burning disgrace of having succumbed to a boy, and of having escaped with his life only, thanks to an accident or a sudden fit of generosity. It required the whole power of his frivolity to get over that painful thought. He tried to persuade himself--and after a while he did persuade himself--that the thing had not been so serious, and that, if he had not slipped so unluckily just when Bruno had leaped upon him, and if his "abominable rheumatism" had not paralyzed his arms, he "would have shaken off the boy like a troublesome fly, and treated him, besides, to a sound drubbing." That, however, in the mean time he had received the drubbing, and the fly had taken good hold of him, was clearly shown by the brown and blue spots which Felix had carried off. On neck and shoulders as sure signs of his defeat. His great valet was not a little surprised when he found his master in a condition which reminded him forcibly of former days, when he was still a cadet, and Cognac and Goulard Water formed regularly part of his toilet. The great man, however, quickly proved that he had no more forgotten the art of curing contusions and discolorations than his master had forgotten the art of getting them, and by dinner-time Felix was in a fit state to present himself in the drawing room. Still, he was doubtful whether he ought to appear at table or not. It was extremely painful to him to think of meeting Bruno, to see the boy's dark eyes rest upon him, full of scorn and satisfaction, and perhaps to have read in Oswald's face that he had been fully informed of the events of last night. He felt, therefore, no small relief when Jean told him that the company would be very much reduced at dinner to-day, as Mr. Stein and Bruno would not appear. He only cast a glance at the looking-glass, dropped a little more Ess. Bouquet than usually on his lawn handkerchief, and passed through the door which Jean obsequiously opened as light and free and as irresistible as ever, although burdened with the memory of his recent defeat.
The baroness also felt no small relief when she found that Helen showed no change in her manner or on her face, and in her large eyes. The baroness was more attentive than ever to her daughter.
Nevertheless dinner was duller than usual, although Felix did his best to make conversation. The old baron had gone himself to inquire after Bruno, and was angry that the doctor had not yet been sent for, and said that "if a wagon was going to town in the evening, to bring various things for the ball to-morrow, that was no reason why one of the servants might not have gone in on horseback early in the morning." The baroness did not relish the imputed blame, and replied that it was true she had forgotten that it was for Bruno and not for herself, although she had suffered from a very bad headache, nor for Felix, who had been quite sick during the night and the forenoon. Helen hardly raised her eyes from her plate, and said nothing, while little Marguerite's eyes were even more inflamed from weeping than on the preceding days. Felix and Malte quickly exhausted their topics of conversation, and thus the whole company was soon as silent as if they had been attending a funeral meal in Egypt.
The baroness and Felix were left alone after dinner, as the old baron withdrew to his rooms. Felix had been considering during dinner whether he had not better mention the occurrence of last night--of course in his own way--before Bruno should have an opportunity of speaking of it to any one else beside Oswald. He therefore availed himself of the tête-à-tête with the baroness for that purpose. Laughing, and begging her not to let the odd story get any farther, he then told her how the beautiful moonlight had tempted him to go into the garden, how he had found Bruno hovering around Helen's room in a very suspicious manner, and how at last the boy, refusing to go to bed as he had ordered him to do, had begun a quarrel, and made him slip and fall. He added, that as soon as he had recovered from the surprise he had inflicted due punishment on Bruno, who was probably still suffering from the consequences.
The baroness was by no means pleased with this humorous account of a very serious matter. Her apprehensions about the letter were excited anew. Bruno late at night near Helen's windows! What could he have to do there? The circumstance looked very suspicious. Could Bruno have found the letter? Could he have wished to restore it to her? The baroness groaned at the thought.