"Have you made your peace with God?"
"I hope so, my child! So far as He will be gracious to an old sinner like me." He raised his eyes with an earnest, trustful look, then a long--agonizing death struggle came on. But he held his daughter's hand firmly in his own, and she spent the whole night at his bedside without stirring, resolute and faithful--the first fulfillment of duty in her whole life.
The struggle continued until the next noon ere the daughter could close her father's eyes. A number of pressing business matters were now to be arranged, which detained her in the house of mourning until the evening, and made her sorely miss her thoughtful friend, the duke. At last, at nine o'clock, she returned to her palace, wearied almost unto death.
The footman handed her a card: "The gentleman has been here twice to-day and wished to see Your Highness on very urgent business. He was going to leave by the last train, but decided to stay in order to see you. He will try again after nine o'clock--"
The countess carried the card to the gas jet and read: "Ludwig Gross, drawing-teacher." Her hand trembled so violently that she almost dropped it. "When the gentleman comes, admit him!" She was obliged to cling to the balustrade as she went upstairs, she was so giddy. Scarcely had she reached her boudoir when she heard the lower bell ring--then footsteps, a familiar voice--some one knocked as he had done ten years ago in the Gross House; but the man whom he then brought, nothing would ever bring again.
She did not speak, her voice failed, but she opened the door herself--Ludwig Gross stood before her. Both gazed at each other a long time in silence. Both were struggling for composure and for words, and from the cheeks of both every drop of blood had vanished. The countess held out her hand, but he did not seem to see it. She pointed to a chair, and said in a hollow tone: "Sit down," at the same time sinking upon a divan opposite.
"I will not disturb you long, Your Highness!" Ludwig answered, seating himself a long distance off.
"If you disturbed me, I should not have received you."
Ludwig felt the reproof conveyed in the words for the hostility of his manner, but he could not help it.
"Perhaps Your Highness remembers a certain Freyer?"