"I have to tell you something now which will put you into a happier mood," he began, clearly relieved that his unpleasant communication had been made. "Yesterday evening the two ladies from Hanover who were my travelling companions some time ago came to me to ask my advice about something which troubled them very much. They have received an urgent call to return home to their aged mother, who has fallen very ill and has asked to see them. The little girl who is in their care, however, has been so sick for a few days that they had to call the doctor. They summoned him again yesterday in order to consult him as to whether there might be danger if the child travelled. He told them positively that they could not think of letting her go now, and that she might not be able to go for weeks. A slow fever showed that she was on the point of serious illness, Which would not quickly pass. The ladies were extremely frightened and told the doctor their dilemma, for they were both absolutely compelled to leave. One of them might be able to return in about two weeks, but they had to find a reliable person in the meantime who could nurse the child. This was terribly difficult for them as strangers. The doctor's advice was to bring the young invalid to the hospital in Sils, where she would be well taken care of and he could see her every day. The ladies wanted my opinion before deciding. They realize that doctors always favor hospitals because the care of their patients is made simple and easy, so they wondered if I advised them to have the young girl sent there. I told them that the place was not at all badly equipped, but that it was rather small, and the patients were of course very mixed. When I asked the ladies if it would not be better if the child's parents decided that difficult question, I received the information that Leonore von Wallerstätten was an orphan and that the aunt who had put her in their care had also died."
"Oh, Philip, now there is no doubt any more that she is our Leonore's little daughter," Mrs. Maxa cried in the greatest agitation. "Oh, Philip, how could you ever advise them to send her to the hospital? Why didn't you say right away that your sister would immediately take the child into her house."
"How could I do that? Just think a moment, Maxa!" said the brother. "Did you want me to add to your troubles and anxieties by bringing a patient sick with fever into your house? It might turn out to be a dangerous illness, which all your five might catch; what should you have said to me then?"
"Philip, I shall go to Sils with you to-morrow and I'll ask you to take me to the ladies. I want them to know who I am, of course. I shall tell them that I have the right as her mother's nearest friend to receive Leonore into my house and to nurse her. I am sure that the little patient can take the trip in your closed carriage. You can quickly go to the doctor to tell him of our plan and have the carriage sent to us. Please do this for me, Philip! I can't stand that the child of our Leonore should go to a strange hospital all by herself."
Mrs. Maxa had spoken with such decision that her brother had listened to her in greatest surprise.
"So you have resolved to carry this through, Maxa? Are you sure that you won't have to take it all back after your excitement has vanished?" he asked her.
"You can rely on me, Philip. I have absolutely made up my mind to do it," the sister assured him. "You must help me now to put it through. I shall be able to take care of things when she gets here, but do all in your power to prevent the ladies from putting obstacles in my path. You see, I do not even know them."
"I shall do whatever you wish," the listener said willingly. "It certainly is hard to tell where a woman will set up complaints and where she will suddenly not know either fear or obstacles! I have already told the two Miss Remkes about you. As soon as I knew the child's name, I realized the situation. I told the ladies about your being the best friend of their charge's mother, and that you would surely go to see her now and then in the hospital. This pleased them greatly."
Uncle Philip began now to lay minute plans for the morrow. His sister had to give her promise to be ready very early in order to reach Sils in good time, for the patient was to be taken to the hospital in the course of the forenoon. He also gave her all the needed instructions relating to the coachman and the carriage.
She listened quietly till he had finished and then said, "I have some news for you, too. Just think! Baron Bruno has come back. He arrived in the middle of the night when nobody could see him. He is absolutely alone now in the desolate castle. Just imagine how he must feel to be within those walls again where he spent his happy years with all those loved ones he has not seen since he left the castle in a fit of terror."