"Did you read it?"
"No; but I know what it contained."
"How can you know that?"
"Because the saint replied, and Frau Sophie was the messenger."
"Go on," said Timar.
"Yes, for the story is not nearly finished. The letter was not a scented pink note; it was written on your own desk, sealed with your own seal, and its contents might have been to repulse the major's advances forever and ever. But that was not what it said."
"Who knows?"
"Frau Sophie and I, and you will be a third directly. How unexpectedly you returned to-day!—how can people come at such an inconvenient time? The Danube is full of ice, the ice-flakes lie in heaps, and no living creature can cross. One would think that on such a day the town would be so safely shut off that even a jealous husband, if he were outside, could not get in. How could you come to-day?"
"Do not torture me, Athalie."
"Did you not notice the confusion on your picture's face when surprised by your arrival? Did not her hand tremble in yours? You managed your arrival so badly; Frau Sophie had to go out again to the smart major with the short message—'It can not be to-day.'"