What she had nearly decided upon was to confide everything to Dr. Leblanc, who was now fulfilling a promise made the year before at the Old Mansion and visiting her friends at Heidelberg. He understood her position with respect to the princess better than any one else, and would know how to aid her in giving it up. He, better than any one, could arrange everything for her return among her relatives without betraying the motive she was so anxious to conceal. But it was painful to decide on speaking of George even to him. The letter was commenced but not yet finished, and the hour of delay was passing.
She laid the book on the table and was absorbed in silent reflection. The princess was dwelling on the thoughts suggested by the reading, and her son, as he answered her at random, sought to read the expression of the downcast eyes that so carefully avoided his.
At that moment an unexpected message surprised them all. The princess’ valet de chambre, who was the porter, wished to inform Mademoiselle Gabrielle there was a young gentleman in the hall who requested to see her.
“A young gentleman?” exclaimed the princess and her son at the same time, and with no less astonishment than Fleurange.
“A young gentleman?” repeated she. “Did you ask his name?” Yes, the valet de chambre had asked, but had forgotten, and stammered out some name as unintelligible as unknown to Fleurange. She rose. “I will see who it can be,” said she.
George had already arisen, and the princess exclaimed: “Gabrielle must not go down alone at this hour. Rogues often find their way in, in this manner, at night.—Last evening, before dark, an unknown person entered a shop, and while the owner’s back was turned—” The princess became unnecessarily nervous over this slight incident.
“If you will allow me,” said George, “I will ascertain who it is. Trust to me, and await here the information I will bring you.”
Fleurange made no objection. She knew no one and expected no one, and was sure there was some mistake.
George was not gone more than ten minutes from the room. When he reappeared, his face was lit up with an expression of joy.
“It is really a young gentleman,” he said, “and it was really you he asked for, mademoiselle. And I, for my part, was also happy to shake hands with Julian Steinberg. It was he. He has just arrived at Florence with his wife.”