Sulkowski did not dare to remind her of the warning she had given him; her speech and manner were now quite different; she was afraid.
Seeing that he would not learn much from her, the Count asked about the new opera, about Hasse, and took leave of her.
He determined to go straight home. Notwithstanding the confidence which had not yet left him, he was depressed and obliged to keep a close watch on himself, lest the impatience which was taking hold of him should show itself.
In front of his palace he found a court carriage. The Baroness von Lowendhal, daughter of the Grand Master of Ceremonies was with his wife. Sulkowski entered the drawing-room.
The two ladies were sitting on the sofa and chatting with vivacity. The Baroness von Lowendhal, a very lively though not very young person, and always the best informed about everything, sprang from the sofa and greeted the Count as he entered. On her face one might discern much distraction and nervousness.
'Count, you will be able to tell us the latest news, she said shaking hands with him, 'what is going on at the court? Some changes are expected, and we do not know what they may be.'
'But where does such a supposition come from?' asked the Count.
'An hour ago,' said the lady animated, 'the King sent for old General Bandissin, who is suffering with gout and commanded him to come to the castle. The general who could hardly walk across the room with a stick, begged to be excused, giving his illness as his reason; notwithstanding that they sent again for him and I saw him going to the castle.'
'I do not know what that means,' answered Sulkowski quietly. 'I went twice to the castle and could not see the King; it's extremely amusing.'
He began to laugh, while the Baroness prattled on.