Josepha, in her mortal weakness felt as if crushed by the presence of these strangers--with their heavy hunting-boots and loud voices. She tried to take refuge in the kitchen on the pretense of roasting the hare herself. But both gentlemen earnestly protested against it.
"No, indeed, that would be fine business to drive you out of your room when you are ill! In that case, we must leave the house at once."
The red-bearded gentleman--Cousin Wildenau himself--sprang from his chair and almost forced Josepha to go back to her sofa.
"There, my dear--madam--or miss? Now do me the honor to take your seat again and allow us to remain a short time unto the roast is ready, then you must dine with us."
A faint smile hovered around Josepha's parched lips. "I thank you, but I am too ill to eat."
"You are really very ill"--said the stranger with kindly solicitude. "You are feverish. I fear we are disturbing you very much. Pray send us away if we annoy you." Yet he knew perfectly well that she could not help asking the unbidden guests to stay.
"But my dear--madam--or miss?"--Josepha never answered the question--"are you doing nothing to relieve your illness, have you had no physician?"
"No we are in such a secluded place, a physician cannot always be had. But I am expecting one to-day."
"Why, it is strange to live in this wilderness. And how uncomfortable you are, you haven't even a stool," said the red-haired cousin putting his huge hunting-muff, after warming it at the stove, under her feet.
Josepha tried to refuse it, but he would not listen. "You need not mind us, we are sick nurses ourselves, we commanded a sanitary battalion in the war. So we understand a little what to do. You are suffering from asthma, it is difficult for you to breathe, so you must sit comfortably. There! Now put my cousin's muff at your back. That's better, isn't it?"