The man lingered an instant longer, then with another bow to Toinette, slowly retreated.
"I will inform His Excellency," he said on the threshold, "that the young lady had no time to answer the Herr Count's letters, because she had gentlemen visitors."
Edwin closed the door behind him. They heard the fellow laugh loudly and joke with Jean as he went away, as if nothing had happened.
A death-like silence pervaded the little drawing room. The beautiful girl sat motionless on the sofa, with her eyes fixed upon the fatal letter, which still lay unopened on the table, and her pale hands folded in her lap. Edwin stood at the door, his hand still raised in the threatening gesture with which he had motioned the insolent fellow to leave the room. Not until he heard the outer door close, did he suddenly move, as if he had shaken off an incubus, and quietly approached the silent Toinette.
"Will you have the kindness to explain this scene, Fräulein?" he asked in a voice from which every trace of agitation seemed to have vanished. As she did not immediately reply, he continued:
"May I hope that you will introduce me to this count, who apparently has some right to compel you to read his letters?"
She was still silent. At last she timidly raised her eyes and gazed at him beseechingly. The look penetrated to his inmost soul.
"If I beg you to ask me no farther questions, to trust me as before--"
"I should not refuse your request," he answered dejectedly, "but I should take leave of you at once--never to return."
"And why?"