"And the letter?" she asked, without looking at him, "Did you bring it with you?"
He drew it out of his pocket. "It did not disturb my slumbers," he answered smiling. "Shall we destroy it unread and throw it into the pond among the withered leaves?"
"No. Read it. Read it aloud." He broke the black seal and read the following lines:
"Honored Fraulein:
"You persist in refusing me a reply. I see that you put no faith in my written assurances of devotion, and if it were possible for anything to increase the strength of my love, it would be this proof of your proud reserve, I will henceforth spare you my letters, as I shall soon be able to reaffirm all my professions verbally, and then I hope to remove all your doubt of the sincerity of my passion. The event I feared has happened, my father died to-night, That the first lines I write after this heavy loss, are addressed to you, will prove better than any words could do, that all my hopes in life are bound up in your image, that my happiness or misery is in your hands. Whether, in my present condition, you will deem me worthy of kinder treatment I must humbly wait for you to decide.
"Ever yours
"Franz Count R----
"If the man is to be judged from his style, we have been hasty in making the master responsible for his boorish servant," observed Edwin in a jesting tone, as he folded the letter and handed it to her. "Will you not at least condole with your faithful knight?"
Mechanically she took the black-edged sheet, but her face remained perfectly immovable. "Come," she said after a pause. "It's beginning to rain again. I don't feel very well. Take me back to the carriage. Oh! it's horrible! horrible! horrible!"
He consoled her as well as he could.