After a short time the woman regained sufficient consciousness to realize her surroundings and tried to lift her feet from the bench. "Oh, Countess, you will tax yourself too much. Please go in, there is a strong draught here."
"Yes, but you must come with me," said the countess, "try whether you can use your feet."
It was vain, she tried to take a step, but her feet refused to obey her will.
"Alas!" cried the countess deeply moved. "She is paralyzed--and it is my fault."
Anna gently took her hand and raised it to her lips. "Pray don't distress yourself, Countess, it will pass away. I am only sorry that I have caused you such a fright." She tried to smile, the ugly face looked actually beautiful at that moment, and the tones of her voice, whose tremor she strove to conceal, was so touching as she tried to comfort and soothe the self-reproach of the woman who had caused the misfortune that tears filled the countess' eyes.
"How wise she is," said the prince, marvelling at such delicacy and feeling.
"Come," said the countess, "we must get her into the warm rooms."
Andreas Gross, and at a sign from the prince, the valet, carried the sick woman in and laid her on the bench by the stove. The countess held her icy hand, while tears streamed steadily down the sufferer's cheeks.
"Do you feel any pain?" asked the lady anxiously.
"No, oh no--but I can't help weeping because the Countess is so kind to me--I am in no pain--no indeed!" She smiled again, the touching smile which seeks to console others.