er, and looked with passionate emotion at the lovely
face that turned so trustfully to him in the midst of its tears.
"I will be helpful to you when I can," said he, in the fullness of his
heart. "I will be at hand whenever you need me. You have too good an
opinion of my information and my faculties; I can be of less assistance
to you than you suppose, but what I can, that I will do in any and every
possible way."
Their hands parted with a warm pressure; the affair was settled.
The baroness now returned. "Our lawyer was with me this morning," said
she; "and now I must ask for your opinion on another subject. He tells
me that there is no prospect of preserving the baron's family estate."
"At this time, when interest is high, and money difficult to get, none,"
replied Anton.
"And you, too, think that we must turn all our efforts toward preserving
the Polish property?"
"I do," was the answer.
"For that, also, money will be necessary. Perhaps I may be able through
my relatives to intrust you with a small sum, which, with the help of
that"--she pointed to the iron chest--"may suffice to cover the first
necessary expenses. I do not, however, wish to sell the jewels here, and
a journey to the residence would be necessary in order to procure the
sum to which I have just alluded. The baron's lawyer has spoken most
highly of your capacity for business. It is his wish which now decides
me to make a proposal to you. Will you for the next few years, or, at
all events, until our greatest difficulties are over, devote your whole
time to our affairs? I have consulted my children, and they agree with
me in believing that in your assistance lies our only hope of rescue.
The baron, too, has come in to the plan. The question now is whether
your circumstances allow you to give your support to our unfortunate
family. We shall be grateful to you, whatever conditions you affix; and
if you can find any way of making our great obligations to you apparent
in the position you hold, pray impart it to me."
Anton stood petrified. What the baroness required of him was separation
from the firm, separation from his principal, and from Sabine! Had this
thought occurred to him before, when standing in Lenore's presence or
bending over the baron's papers? At all events, now that the words were
spoken, they shocked him. He looked at Lenore, who stood behind her
mother with hands clasped in supplication. At length he replied, "I
stand in a p
|