PAID IN FULL.
And whither, then, had Fanny vanished so suddenly, so untraceably, with her aunt?
It was with a feeling of despair that Teresa had listened to her niece's confession. The girl had told her honestly that she was in love, in love body and soul, with all the fervour of her nature, with an ideal whom she had believed to be identical with the benefactor whose benefits she had one day meant to repay with a love stronger than death; and now, discovering that her secret patron was not he whom she had dreamed of, he whom once she had actually seen, and could never again forget, her heart was full of horror. She now felt that she had acted improperly in accepting money from that other man under any pretext whatsoever, for by so doing she had placed herself under an obligation, and she trembled at the thought of it, and feared to show her face in the street lest she should meet him. A distrust of that face grew up in her heart, and she shuddered at the idea that that man was thinking of her, perhaps. Ah, that was indeed a thorn in her soul! And the other, the ideal, there was no reason for thinking of him at all now; and yet cast him out of her heart again she could not. She knew him not, she knew not even his name, yet she felt that she would love him henceforth to the last moment of her life.
Poor Alexander!
So Teresa saw the labours of these many years all in ruins, and in the bitterness of her despair she brought herself to take a step which, at one time, the greatest misery would have been powerless to make her do—she went to Boltay, told him everything, and entreated him to defend, to protect the girl, for this was a case where female protection was insufficient.
Boltay accepted the guardianship with joy. The coarse-handed artisan's big face turned dark red with rage, and he did not go to his factory that day, lest he should pitch into some one; but he gave orders that Teresa's belongings should be carried into his house that very night. Alexander, who heard everything, became very sorrowful, but was doubly attentive to Fanny. It was a case of hopeless love all round. He loved the girl and the girl loved another, and both were very unhappy.
Every one in the family knew the secret, but nobody said a word about it. The two old people often laid their heads together, and sometimes Alexander was admitted to this family council.
The good old people tried to find out the name of the unknown nobleman, as they wanted to send back to him the whole of the money that he had forwarded to Fanny. A debtor under such an obligation could not feel free. They wanted to pay him back as soon as possible, in just the same coin, florin for florin, three thousand down in one lump, lest any one should say he did not get back exactly what he had given.
Yes, but how were they to find out his name? Fanny herself did not know it, and she would not have pointed him out in the street if she had had to die for it. Boltay took the trouble to frequent the coffee-houses and the meetings of the merchants, and listened with all his ears in case he might hear any talk of a shop-girl who had accepted earnest