Only when the bearer of the missive had withdrawn did Fanny observe a letter concealed among the flowers, and immediately, just as if she had caught sight of a venomous spider, she threw away the bouquet, and ran weeping to Dame Kramm, and sobbing bitterly, related the incident. She fancied she was disgraced already.
Shortly afterwards Teresa returned home, and she and Dame Kramm held a consultation over the sealed letter. Fanny was inconsolable when Dame Kramm confided to her its contents. She seriously believed that the bare receiving such a letter had dishonoured her for ever and ever, and despite the consolations of the two worthy old spinsters, she lay in a fever the whole night.
Meanwhile the two old ladies were concocting a plan of vengeance against the originator of all this trouble, and, believe me, ancient spinsters know how to be revengeful! They left the back door of the garden wide open, laid in wait till the cavalier had entered, and then closed it again. Then they took it in turns to watch from the garret window how the valiant young woman-hunter, the would-be seducer, who had himself fallen into the pit, cooled his heels for hours in the mouse-trap they had prepared for him, and when at last the rain began to fall, they went to bed full of malicious joy, with the house-keys tucked snugly beneath their pillows, and listening with delight to the rain pattering against the window-panes.
This very considerable defeat only raised the ardour of the huntsman still higher. What, to surrender to an inexperienced child! to be worsted by a pair of old women! Why, l'esprit de corps could not let matters rest there; and Abellino, who was the leader of the band, took upon himself to rehabilitate their renommée, as he called it, and with proud self-confidence laid a bet to a very considerable amount that, within twelve months' time, he would induce this beauty to quit her paradise and come and live with him—naturally not as his consort.
On the following Sunday Fanny sang the "Stabat Mater Dolorosa" in the cathedral sublimely, and the heart of every worshipper was filled with devotion. Dame Kramm, decked out in all her Sabbath finery, was sitting by one of the side altars, enjoying in her own way the child's beautiful singing, when she heard an enraptured voice close beside her sigh, "Oh, what splendid, what sublime singing!"
She immediately felt bound to turn round and see who it was that was pouring forth the rapture of his soul so abundantly.
She saw before her a modestly attired gentleman, who wore mourning on his hat, and had just dried a tear from his upturned eye. It was Abellino Kárpáthy.
"She sings beautifully, sir, does she not?" said the good spinster, proudly.