At last they emerged upon the sunny open fields. Kitty leaned for a moment against the trunk of a huge oak-tree, while Flora walked on a few paces to be entirely free of the "horrible" forest. The danger was past: there were men ploughing within calling distance, the steeples of the city were in view, and directly in front lay the road leading to the gates of the park of Villa Baumgarten.

But Kitty's eyes were fixed upon an object which Flora did not see,—the low roof, with the tall chimneys and gilded weathercock, that lay so peacefully amid its surrounding fruit-trees. She could see distinctly the picket-fence of the garden,—it was much nearer at hand than the park gates,—and thither, after a brief rest, she silently directed her steps.

"Where are you going?" cried Flora, who was already on her way to the park.

"To Doctor Bruck's house," replied the young girl, walking quietly forward without pausing. "It is the nearest place where we can find a bed where Henriette can be laid, and all necessary assistance. Perhaps the doctor himself is at home."

Flora frowned and hesitated; but whether she fancied herself still followed by the revengeful woman with the long, bony fingers, or whether she, in the present state of her toilette and without a hat, feared to encounter pedestrians on the road to the park, she silently followed Kitty's lead.

Thus they crossed the fields. The task that Kitty had undertaken was laborious indeed. The unfrequented field was full of holes and very stony; at every false step she made, her blood fairly curdled with terror lest Henriette might have a recurrence of the last fearful attack. Then, too, the sun, hot as upon a day in August, beat down upon her unprotected head; now and then the world seemed to swim in a strange, lurid light around her, and she was in imminent danger of sinking down with exhaustion. But at such moments she riveted her gaze upon the doctor's house; it came nearer and nearer,—a lovely picture of rural peace and refreshing repose. She could now clearly see the order and care that reigned behind the picket-fence, and in the midst of her terror and fatigue she was aware of a sensation of pleasure. A man in shirt-sleeves was constructing an arbour, an arbour for the dean's widow: the old lady could not forget the vine-wreathed arbour in the parsonage garden of long ago. Again she would be able to enjoy a seat in the open air. How the simple pleasure would delight her!

She herself now descended the stone steps of the front door in her white cap and apron, bringing to the laborer some afternoon refreshment. She stayed for a moment, apparently talking to the man about his work; it did not occur to either of them to look abroad over the fields. Kitty was just considering whether she should not call to them for help, when the doctor himself came out of the house.

"Bruck!" Flora called across the field, with all the clear, silvery strength of her voice.

He paused, gazed for one moment at the advancing group, and then, tearing open the garden-gate, rushed towards them. "Good heavens! what has happened?" he cried, as he came up.

"I have been assaulted by a mob of savage MÆnads," Flora answered, with a bitter smile, but with all her old scorn and proud indifference of manner. "The wretches meant mischief; my life was in danger, and this poor creature"—she pointed to Henriette—"has had a hemorrhage from terror and agitation."

He only glanced towards her—she was there, safe and uninjured—as he immediately took Henriette from Kitty's arms. "You have exerted a superhuman amount of strength," he said, scanning her face and figure anxiously. A nervous tremor possessed her frame, she bit her lip convulsively, and her cheeks glowed as if the heated blood would burst through the delicate skin. And beside her stood Flora, now cool and quiet, her cheeks flushed, to be sure, but only with the memory of what had occurred.

"You should not have allowed your sister to bear this burden alone," the doctor said to her as he carefully carried the still unconscious Henriette towards the house.

"How can you say so, Bruck!" she exclaimed, with an injured air. "Such a reproach from you is very unjust," she added, sharply. "I know my duty, and would have been only too glad to carry Henriette; but I felt it would be madness to attempt it with my delicate physical organization, while Kitty's is one of those sound, robust, Valkyria natures to whom such a task is a trifle."

He answered not a word, but called to his aunt, who was hastening towards him, to prepare a bed immediately. She hurried back into the house, and when her nephew ascended thee steps to the hall, she was standing at the open door of a western room, into which, mutely and with an anxious face, she motioned him to enter.

It was her guest-chamber,—a tolerably large, sunny room,—the bare floor worn but white, the walls, once painted pink, much defaced, and a monster of a stove of black tiles. The gay chintz curtains before the two windows were perhaps the only luxury that the dean's widow had allowed herself in her new home. At the head of the bed stood an ancient screen covered with Chinese figures, and upon the walls there hung in black frames some illustrations, not very artistic, to be sure, of "Louise," a charming idyl by Vosz. The air of the chamber was deliciously fresh and filled with the fragrance of lavender.

The doctor's face was grave and anxious. It was long before his efforts were successful in restoring Henriette to partial consciousness. She recognized him at last, but she was too weak to lift her hand from the bed to extend it to him. He sent the man at work in the garden to Villa Baumgarten at once, to acquaint the Frau President with what had occurred, and she very soon made her appearance. Until her arrival, not a word was spoken in the sick-room. Flora stood at one window, gazing out over the fields, and Kitty sat at the other, her hands clasped in her lap, her eyes riveted upon the bed, while the dean's widow went and came noiselessly, fulfilling all her nephew's behests.

The Frau President seemed greatly shocked; she was startled afresh at the sight of Henriette's waxen face upon the pillow, and was prepared for the worst when she found that the sick girl did not open her eyes when she gently spoke to her. Henriette had closed them as her grandmother entered the room.

"Tell me, for Heaven's sake, what has happened!" the old lady cried, her soft and carefully-modulated voice sounding almost harsh in the intense quiet that had reigned in the room.

Then Flora came from the window and told the story. Indignantly, and with great distinctness, she portrayed the entire scene in the forest, of course never allowing it to appear that she had for a moment lost her courage or presence of mind, although she declared that in the midst of a throng of at least twenty furies even the strongest nature needed to summon up all its energy not to succumb to aversion and disgust.

Meanwhile, the Frau President paced the apartment in the greatest agitation, never heeding that her silken train rustled over the uneven floor in a way that might be torture to sensitive nerves. "What does the philanthropist say to all this?" she asked, at last, pausing to look at the doctor through her half-shut eyelids with intense irritation.

He answered not a word. His whole expression was that of calm strength as he stood holding Henriette's hand in his, seeming to have neither eyes nor thought for anything but the feeble spark of life which each moment threatened to extinguish.

The old lady again approached the bed, and leaned over the invalid.

"Herr Doctor," she said, after a momentary hesitation, "the case seems to me a very serious one. Shall we not call in my old experienced friend and physician, the councillor of medicine, Von BÄr, in consultation? You must not take it amiss."

"Not in the least, Frau President," he said, laying the sick girl's hand, which just then moved convulsively, gently upon the bed. "It is my duty to do everything that can conduce to your satisfaction." He then quietly left the room to send for the required physician.

"Good heavens, what a mistake it was to bring Henriette here!" the Frau President exclaimed, in an under-tone, as soon as the door closed after him.

"Kitty is to blame for it," Flora rejoined, crossly. "It will be her fault if we are obliged to almost live in this tumble-down place for weeks to come——" And she glanced angrily towards the silent girl at the window.

"And what an oversight to place the poor child so that every time she opens her eyes she has a full view of that horrible stove! And these daubs on the walls!—'tis enough to frighten her!" As she spoke, the old lady turned away from her and examined the bed. "This seems to be tolerably comfortable,—the linen, at least, is white and fine; but I will send over Henriette's silken duvet, with a comfortable armchair for Doctor von BÄr, and, above all, another toilette set. Stoneware!" she said, contemptuously, as she pushed aside the basin and pitcher upon the wash-stand to make room for the painted porcelain shortly to arrive. "Heavens, how wretchedly such people live! And they never feel it—— Do you wish for anything, my angel?" she interrupted herself, in a soft voice, as she hurried to the bedside.

Henriette had slowly lifted her head and looked about her for an instant; she had now sunk back again and closed her eyes, although her strength had sufficiently returned to enable her to push away her grandmother's hand as it attempted to stroke her own.

"Wayward as ever!" sighed the Frau President, as she sat down beside the bed.

The councillor of medicine was not long in making his appearance: he came in great consternation. He needed an explanation of what had occurred to account for the presence of his old friend in the house by the river. He was a handsome old man, excessively neat in his dress, and with an arrogant reserve of manner. He was family physician to the reigning prince, who had conferred upon him a patent of nobility in reward of his services, which had also obtained him quite a number of orders, diamond rings, and gold snuff-boxes. His splendid equipage awaited him on the farther side of the bridge.

"Bad, very bad!" he said, with a critical air, going to the bedside. He looked at the patient for a minute, and then began an examination of her chest. He did it very carefully, but the sick girl moaned,—the repeated touch was evidently painful to her.

Doctor Bruck stood silently beside him with folded arms. He never moved; but, as Henriette moaned, his brows contracted: so thorough an examination at this advanced stage of the disease was entirely unnecessary. "Shall I give you my experience of the case, Doctor von BÄr?" he asked quietly, but evidently with the intention of putting a stop to what gave the patient pain.

The old gentleman glanced towards him. No one could confront an enemy with a look of more bitter hatred than that which gleamed in the sunken eyes of the distinguished physician. "Permit me first to investigate matters myself, Herr Doctor!" he answered, coldly, and continued his examination. "Now I am at your service," he said, a few minutes later, retiring from the bedside, and following the doctor into his study.

As soon as he had gone, Henriette opened her eyes. Her cheeks wore the flush of fever, and, with what was almost violence, she demanded to see her own physician, Doctor Bruck.

The Frau President could scarcely repress her annoyance at such "utter waywardness," but she went, without a word, to fulfil the invalid's request. She did not, however, as she had feared she should, intrude upon a consultation: there had evidently been none; the councillor of medicine had paid no heed to the young physician's communications, but had seated himself at the study-table to write a prescription.

Doctor Bruck instantly left the room, and the Frau President stayed to hear her old friend's opinion. He was rather curt and out of humour, spoke of an entire misconception of the case, and lamented that the right man was applied to only in moments of the greatest danger. The grandmother should have overcome her grandchild's obstinacy long since, and consulted the old family physician who had treated her in her childhood. In such a case the consideration shown to Flora's lover was culpable. "First of all, we must see that the poor child is transferred as soon as possible, dear madame, to her own convenient and elegant bedroom," he added. "She will be better amid her accustomed surroundings; and then too I can be sure that my directions will be strictly followed, which could never be the case here."

He dipped his pen in the ink. Suddenly his eyes fell upon a beautiful little open box upon the table in the midst of the books and writing-materials; it had probably been received but a few hours previously, for the wrapping-paper still lay beside it.

Never had the Frau President seen the face of her "cherished friend" express such blank dismay as at this moment; the pen fell from his hand.

"Good heavens! that is the order of the royal household of D——!" he said, tapping the box with a respectful finger. "How comes it in this house, sent to this obscure address?"

"Strange!" the Frau President murmured, in a startled tone, her delicate white features flushed with a disagreeable surprise. She put up her eyeglass to examine the contents of the little box. "I do not know the order, or its value——"

"No wonder: it is very rarely bestowed," the councillor of medicine interrupted her.

"Or I might suppose its reception dated from his last campaign;" she completed her remark.

"No possibility of that!" he ejaculated, harshly,—he must have been much agitated to adopt such a tone. "In the first place, the order is only bestowed as a reward for services rendered to the royal family; and then I should like to see the man who could possess such a decoration for more than a year without the world's knowing it. If I only knew why,—knew why!" He rubbed his forehead absently with a hand upon which three marks of princely favour glittered in sparkling diamonds; but of what value were they to him at this moment? They were all presents from his own royal family,—not distinctions awarded by a foreign court.

"This same order is the goal of the hopes of so many," he continued; "many a person of distinction has sighed for it in vain; and here it lies, as if carelessly thrown aside, on this miserable painted table!—thrown around the neck of a man, an ignoramus, disgraced by his repeated failures,—pardon me, dear madame, I cannot help saying so,—thrown around his neck, I repeat, and no one has an idea of the why or the wherefore!"

He had arisen, and was pacing to and fro in the room. The haughty old lady, who so seldom lost her self-possession, looked at him the while with a strange air of scrutiny. "I cannot believe," she observed, in an uncertain tone, "that the decoration has anything to do with his medical services. When was he ever at the D—— court?"

The councillor of medicine paused, and laughed aloud: but it was a forced laugh. "I must say, madame, such an idea never entered my head, simply because it is—impossible. The world must be turned upside down indeed before the quackery and ignorance of raw tyros can be crowned with honour, while genuine merit is trampled under-foot. No, no; that I cannot believe." He went to a window and drummed with his fingers on the glass. "But who knows what he may have undertaken to do? He vanished for eight days, and no one knew whither," he said, after a short silence, in an under-tone. "Hm! who knows anything of his outside relations? These schemers, who never speak of their profession, have good reasons for silence: there is much in their practice of medicine which no honorable man could countenance. Well, I say nothing. It has never been my way to lift the veil from the dark designs of others. We are all in His hands!" And he pointed upwards with such well-feigned reliance upon Heaven that only so intimate a friend as the Frau President could have failed to be deceived. He was always gentle and pious when he imagined himself slighted or defrauded of his rights.

He sat down at the table again, and wrote his prescription, but hurriedly, as if the proximity of the fatal box burned his fingers. "One thing I pray of your kindness, my dear friend," he said, as he finished: "try to get to the bottom of this affair. I should like to be au fait before Bruck begins to boast of his ambiguous distinction,—I should like to have some weapon at hand. No need to advise you to use the most refined diplomacy: there you are mistress and at home."

The old lady did not at once reply: she had watched him while he had been transcribing on paper the delicate, mysterious characters, and had admitted to herself that her old friend had suddenly grown strangely old. Not that wrinkles had invaded his still blooming cheeks,—his face was smooth and plump,—but at this moment, when he was entirely off his guard, there was in all the lines of his countenance an indefinable mixture of anxiety, depression, and peevish discontent; he looked like a man for whom some secret, disturbing thought ruins the day's enjoyment and the night's repose. Now first she remembered that he had of late occasionally thrown out delicate hints with regard to the caprice of princes. Heavens, what if she should lose this friend! Not that this thought had reference to his transfer from this earthly sphere,—she never, if she could help it, thought of death,—but he might be pensioned off. He could then stand her in no stead at court, and she dreaded to think of what this would cost her. Pshaw! why should she? The good old Von BÄr was too fond of truffles and the like good but indigestible things; he loved strong wine and heavy beer; he was beginning to be hypochondriacal, to have whims and see phantoms; her refined sensibility was sure to warn her of the decline of any influence at court, and she had not as yet detected in that delicate weathercock the slightest disposition to veer.

"But, my dear friend, how do you know that this decoration belongs to the doctor?" she asked, with all the assurance of an experienced woman of the world. "I cannot believe that it does, because, with all the will in the world, I cannot see how it should. At all events, whatever is the state of the case, it will do him no good in our capital, where he is, as it were, dead. I will willingly investigate the affair, solely for your satisfaction——" She stopped; the door of the next room opened, and the dean's widow entered it to get something from her closet.

The councillor of medicine arose and gave the prescription to the Frau President. Then both passed through the room where the dean's widow was just closing the closet-door. Doctor von BÄr would gladly have put an end to his anxiety by provoking an explanation by some facetious remark as he passed her; but the old lady made him an inclination so cool and dignified, so full of grave reserve, that he did not venture to address her.

In the invalid's apartment there was no better chance to satisfy his mind. The doctor had brought the glass globe of gold-fish from his aunt's room, and was busy arranging the apparatus of a little fountain attached to it; the maid was bringing fresh water to fill various deep plates on the tables and a bucket near the sick-bed,—all to moisten as much as possible the atmosphere of the room. Who could disturb a man thus given over to the performance of his duty by captious remarks with regard to outside affairs? And, besides, the councillor of medicine instantly felt relieved upon the subject. There must be some hidden and harmless explanation of the whole matter; for no man who had just been honoured by so rare a distinction could possibly conduct himself so quietly and unconsciously as the young physician.

Henriette was sitting propped up with pillows in bed; fever had set in. Removal to the villa was out of the question, however earnestly the Frau President might desire it. She was obliged to content herself with sending Henriette's maid to stay through the night, with everything that could make the sick-chamber "comfortable." Kitty's entreaty to be allowed to take charge of her sister during the night was set aside, not so much by the Frau President and Doctor von BÄr as by Doctor Bruck, who was very decided in the matter. Tears rushed to the young girl's eyes as he refused to yield one jot of his opinion that the maid, acting under his directions, was all that was required. Accordingly, it was arranged that Flora and Kitty should remain until ten o'clock, and then give place to Nanni.

Flora maintained an impassive silence during this discussion. She was conscious, as was her grandmother, that she must not be outdone by Kitty in attention to her own sister in this illness, which, with the adventure in the wood, was likely to furnish talk for the capital the next day, and therefore she was satisfied to abide by the doctor's decision.