"I shall come again to-morrow morning," he said, taking his hat and cane; "if it comforts you, you can let old Baumann sit up with the boy. But you yourself must go to bed early, and take one of these powders. You are very much exhausted and require rest."
"Stay another moment, doctor!" said the lady. "I have one more question to ask."
Her features betrayed great emotion, her bosom rose and sank with agitation; she seemed to be about to give utterance to a thought which she was unable from great fear to clothe in words.
Doctor Birkenhain laid dawn again his hat and cane.
"Sit down, madame, I pray you!" he said, sitting down by her side on the sofa. "I know what you are about to ask. I have read the question all this evening in your anxious eyes and upon your trembling lips. You do not believe in the disease of the heart, of which the physicians at Grunwald have said so much; if you did you would not have come to me, however kindly you may think of my modest knowledge and my experience. You fear the evil is more serious--in fact, that it is a hereditary disease, the first germ, the beginning, of an affection which has already once been so fatal for you. Am I right?"
The lady's answer was a flood of tears, which broke irresistibly from her eyes, like a long pent-up torrent. Sobbing, she pressed her handkerchief to her face.
"My dear madame," said the physician, taking her hand in his, "I pray you, I implore you, calm yourself. As far as I can judge from the written reports of my colleagues, from your own account, and from my observation, there is not the slightest ground for your terrible apprehension. Insanity is hereditary, to be sure; it descends through many generations, turning up here and there, often after a long interval; but in your husband's family his own case is the very first in the whole history of his family, and consequently for many hundred years. And this exceptional case had its own peculiar and very sad causes, which could affect only the individual, and could not possibly have any effect upon his descendants. Herr von Berkow was naturally in the enjoyment of very good health, perhaps even superior in his physique to most men; but remember, I pray that it is a physician who is speaking now--he had ruined this powerful constitution by dissipation. That which often saves others in his position--the marriage with a chaste, pure being--became in his case his ruin, for he felt his own unworthiness--felt it so deeply that he despaired of ever winning your love or attaining your forgiveness, and therefore abandoned himself hopelessly to that melancholy in which he quickly lost all pleasure in life and all energy of mind. The sins of the father will not be visited on the next generation. If there should really be an affection of the heart, it has as yet made very little progress and can easily be cured, with the aid of Julius's youth and excellent constitution. Therefore I pray you, madame, lay aside all your anxiety; confide in me; confide in your good fortune; the clouds that are hiding your star for a moment will soon disappear."
"My star?" asked the lady, with a melancholy smile; "my star? Why, doctor, I fear, if there ever was such a one, it has set long since and forever."
"That we shall see," said Doctor Birkenhain, rising. "I believe in favorable stars, and above all in your good star. One so fair and so dear and so good as you are must not and shall not be unhappy! Good night!"
Doctor Birkenhain took the lady's hand, raised it reverently to his lips, and left the room.