Thus from hour to hour there was increasing danger that the book, in which Olga had written down her confessions, might fall into the old woman's hands.
She need only take it into her head one day to rummage among the little collection of volumes which filled the book-shelf, and the mischief was done.
Added to this anxiety, which drove the old doctor daily to the Hellingers' house, came his growing uneasiness about Robert who, since that disastrous hour, had fallen a prey to blank, despairing lethargy. He seemed absolutely deprived of the power of speech, would endure no one near him, and even taciturnly shunned and avoided him, his old friend; by day he roamed about in the fields, by night he sat by his child's cot, and stared down upon it with burning, reddened eyes.
So said the servants, who three times had found him in the morning in this position.
V.
The lights round Olga's coffin had burnt down.
The guests, who for so long had surrounded the bier in solemn silence, began to move to and fro, and to look round for refreshments.
Mrs. Hellinger, who was receiving condolences, and at the same time, with a great profusion of tears and pocket handkerchiefs, extolling the virtues of the deceased, suddenly, in the midst of her grief, proved herself an attentive and liberal hostess. The guests gave a sigh of relief when the doors of the dining-room were thrown open, and from the resplendent table a sweet odour of roast meats, compôtes and herring salad greeted them.
Mr. Hellinger, senior, praised the Lord, and with a few privileged friends, drank the specially fine claret which he set before them in honour of the occasion. They were not yet agreed whether an innocent game of cards would be disparaging to the general mourning, and decided to send delegates to the hostess to obtain her permission.
There was plenty of life and bustle in the Hellingers' house--one might have imagined one were at a wedding.