“Is he still in France?” asked Frank.
“Yes, still there,” said Lady Gowan, with a sigh.
“And we can’t join him. Don’t you think, if you tried again, the Princess might succeed in getting him recalled?”
“I have tried till I dare try no more, for fear of disgusting one who has proved herself my great friend by my importunity. We must be content with knowing that some day your father will be recalled, and then all will be well again.”
Lady Gowan did not explain to her son by what means she had letters from her husband, and once when he asked her point-blank she did not speak out, and he did not dare to press the matter.
And still the time went on.
Baron Steinberg was declared by the doctor well enough to take his journey; and one day, to Frank’s relief, Andrew met him with the news that the German noble had taken his departure.
“I saw him go,” said Andrew; “and, as he came out to the carriage, looking as thin as a herring, I couldn’t help smiling, for all the bounce seemed to be gone out of him, and he was walking with a stick.”
“Poor wretch!” said Frank.
“Nonsense! Got what he deserved. Some of these foreign officers seem to think that they wear swords and learn to use them for nothing else but to enable them to play the part of bullies and insult better men, force them to a fight, and then kill them. I’m only too glad one of them has had his lesson.”