Laura raised her head proudly, and replied: "Only because you have wished it."
They went to church. The little Fritz tossed about in his godmother's arms, frightened at the baptismal font; but when he was handed over to the tall Fritz, he broke out into an angry cry; and Laura observed with contempt how disconcerted the Doctor was, and what awkward efforts he made, by raising and lowering his arms, and by his looks, to appease the little squaller, till at last the nurse--a very resolute woman--came to his assistance.
With the approach of sunset the duties of the day became more insupportable. At the christening feast all Laura's most gloomy anticipations were fulfilled, for she was seated beside the Doctor; and, for both, it was a most disagreeable meal, indeed. The Doctor once more ventured to make some advances, hoping to break through her incomprehensible mood, but he might as well have attempted to thaw the ice of a glacier with a lucifer match, for Laura had now become an adept in the expression of social contempt. She conversed exclusively with the father of the child, who sat at her other side, and encouraged by his cheerful gossip she recovered her wonted elasticity of spirit; while Fritz became more silent, and noticeably neglected a pleasing young woman, his left-hand neighbor. But things grew still worse. When the proper time approached, the other godfather, a city councillor, a man of the world and a good speaker, came behind the Doctor's chair, and declared that he could not undertake to bring the christening toast as he was suffering with a headache, which drove away all his thoughts, and that the Doctor must speak in his stead. The possibility of this had never occurred to the Doctor, and it was so unpleasant to him in his present mood that he quietly, but firmly, refused his consent to the proposal. Laura again listened with deep contempt to the discussion between the two gentlemen about an oratorical exercise which was not even to be put in writing. The master of the house also observed it, and a feeling of awkward expectation threw a gloom over the society, which is not calculated to encourage unwilling after-dinner speakers, but rather to depress them, and scatter their thoughts. Just, however, as the Doctor was on the point of performing his duty, Laura, after giving him another cold look, rose and clinked her glass. She was greeted with a loud bravo; and she then said, to the astonishment of herself, and delight of all present: "As the gentlemen sponsors are so little inclined to do their duty, I crave your pardon for undertaking what they ought to have done." Thereupon, she bravely proposed and led the toast; it was a bold undertaking, but it was successful, and she was overwhelmed with applause. On the other hand, sarcastic speeches were made against the Doctor by the gentlemen present. Nevertheless, he extricated himself tolerably, the situation being so desperate that it restored to him his powers; nay, he had the impudence to declare that he delayed intentionally, in order to procure for the society the pleasure which all must have experienced in listening to the eloquence of his neighbor. He then made an amusing speech on every possible subject; and all laughed, but they did not know what he was aiming at, till he adroitly turned it upon the godfathers and godmothers and in particular proposed the health of his charming neighbor who sat beside him. This answered well enough for the other guests, but to Laura it was insufferable mockery and hypocrisy; and when she had to clink glasses with him, she looked so indignantly at him, that he quickly drew back from her.
He now began to show his indifference after his fashion; he talked loudly to his neighbor, and drank many glasses of wine. Laura drew her chair away from him; fearing that he might drink too much, he became an object of annoyance to her, and she gradually relapsed into silence. But the Doctor took no heed of this; again he clinked his glass, and made another speech, which was so comical that it produced the happiest effect on the company. But Laura sat as stiff as a stone image, only casting an occasional stolen glance towards him. After that the Doctor left her side; his chair stood vacant, but, figuratively speaking, the cotton pocket-handkerchief and the small fur gloves still lay upon it, and it seemed quite uneasy under its invisible burden. The Doctor, meanwhile, went about the table, stopping here and there to pay his respects; and wherever he stopped there was laughing and clinking of glasses. When he had finished his round, he approached the host and hostess; and Laura heard them thank him for the merry evening, and praise the gaiety of his spirits.
He then returned to his place; and now he had the impudence to turn to Laura, and, with an expression in which she clearly perceived a sneer, he held out his hand to her under the table, saying, "Let us make peace, naughty godmother; give me your hand." Laura's whole heart revolted, and she exclaimed, "You shall have my hand immediately." She put her hand quickly into her pocket, put on one of the cat's-skin gloves, and scratched him with it on the back of his hand. "There, take what you deserve."
The Doctor felt a sharp pain; he raised his hand, and he perceived it was tattooed with red streaks. Laura threw her glove into his lap, and added: "If I were a man, I would make you feel in another way the insult you have offered me."
The Doctor looked about him; his left-hand neighbor had risen; and on the other side, the master of the house, bending over the table, formed a convenient wall between them and the outer world. He looked in astonishment at the challenge in his lap; it was all incomprehensible to him; he was conscious but of one thing, that Laura, in spite of her passion, was enchantingly beautiful.
He too put his hand into his pocket, and said: "Happily, I am in a position to bind your present of this morning about the wounds." He pulled out the red and black handkerchief, and began to wind it round his wounded hand; in doing which, it could not fail being seen that the hand had a most uncanny murderous appearance. When Laura saw the bloody scratches, she was shocked, but she bravely concealed her repentance, saying coldly, "At least it would be better for your hand if you would take my handkerchief as a bandage, instead of that stiff clumsy thing."
"It is your handkerchief," replied the Doctor, sorrowfully.
"This is worst of all," cried Laura, with quivering voice. "You have behaved towards me to-day in a manner that is highly humiliating to me, and I ask you what have I done to deserve such treatment?"