At this moment, however, the baroness took much trouble to show a conciliatory, peaceful, and friendly disposition. The effort made her almost disposed to tears. It may be that she looked upon tears as, after all, probably the best means to touch her noble daughter's heart, and to win her for her own selfish views.
There came a knock at the door, The baroness snatched up her work. Upon her: Come in! Helen entered the room. The baroness was rather near-sighted, and did not at once notice that the noble, proud face of the young girl was deadly pale--not with that painful pallor which cowardice gives to the cheeks, but with that marble paleness which harmonizes very well with eyes full of heroic fire.
"I am sorry, dear child," said the baroness, "to have to interrupt you in your early studies. I sent for you in order to speak to you about a matter of the utmost importance. But sit down! Take that chair in which your father usually sits."
"Thank you," said Helen, and remained standing.
The measured, almost curt tone, in which these two words were uttered, made the baroness look up from her work. She noticed now for the first time the pale cheeks of her daughter, and her own cheeks lost their color.
"I hope you are not unwell," she said, and her voice was less firm than usual. "If you are, we will postpone our conversation till another time. You will need all your strength for to-night."
"I am perfectly well," replied the young girl; "I was myself on the point of asking you to grant me an interview, since I also have to speak to you of matters of importance."
"You to me?" said--the baroness, fixing her large, deep-sunk eyes upon her daughter's pale face. "You to me? What can that be? Speak out!"
"It is this!" said Helen; "I found night before last near the chapel a letter----"
The baroness raised her head, and cast at Helen a look in which consternation, wrath, fear, and defiance were strangely mingled.