She was thought to be omniscient, poor Lori! How gladly would she have been so! because unnatural obscurity hovered over one of the most important questions which occupied her. Far away beyond the attained goal her ambition was again striving after new objects--how very different to be a proud châtelaine, and the wife of a nobleman of position--and was this impossible for her?
She sat silently, and counted up all the tokens of attention which Blanden had vouchsafed to her. The sum was a considerable one, if only all the separate posts had been secure--!
Blanden had availed himself of her last invitation in the confectioner's shop to visit Reising, just before his departure to the province, and, indeed, on the same day. Was it merely his eagerness to fulfil a social duty while he had time, or was it liking for, and interest in her poor self?
Dr. Reising had received him very pleasantly. Euphrasia had been agreeable, yes, coquettish--Lori had no other name for it; even Emma had shed the light of her kitchen lantern upon the high politics of the reception-room; and actually Albertine made up her mind to speak.
But he had distinguished her above all the others, talked with her in preference, and she herself had been intellectual, particularly intellectual; she must say that for herself, there are days upon which the silver melts unaided from the mental ore, and becomes liquid, days of an intellectual silvery appearance. Could Blanden be unsusceptible to such silvery looks? For he had been in the province a long time. Dr. Reising had departed with her sisters; she had undertaken the school, it was a time of anxiety. He was far away, she could only preserve his image in her heart, and at rare moments take it out for devout contemplation.
But now he had returned again, she had seen him. Twice he had ridden past her house. Was it chance, or intentional? He had looked up at her windows; did he seek her, or did he only notice the wild noise issuing from one of the classes, the windows of which, in spite of the cold, had to be opened on account of a worn-out stove!
Much more weighty was the fact that for several days she had each morning found a bouquet of hot-house flowers in her vase.
A man-servant had delivered them to the housemaid without giving the name of the donor. In each bouquet was concealed an envelope, in which was a card containing a verse. Such forbidden goods in a girls' school, and to be sent to her, the mistress! But she resigned herself to the inevitable, did not burn the cards, nor did she forbid the reception of the bouquets.
Did they come from Blanden? A blissful suspicion told her so, she believed to find reminiscences of their conversations in some of the verses. Had he not spoken of the solitude of his woods, and did not the first verse begin with an allusion to it?--
"Without thee darling I am lonely,