scene she had just
witnessed be explained as coming from a freak of fever--from a last
flaring-up of his spirits before the final breaking-down? Then, in
spite of all, he was still worthy of her secret thoughts--ay, she even
owed him some apology, and could grieve for him, and show him that
sympathy which we owe to all who are in suffering.

A heavy weight fell from her heart. She read the note a second time.
"Rossel's villa?"--that lay only half an hour's walk from theirs. She
might get news before the evening was over. Schnetz would very likely
come himself and tell her.

But, while she was absorbed in such thoughts, she let her eyes sweep
across the lake, and saw the boat, rowed by Schnetz and Kohle, just
pushing off from the shore. The twilight was still bright enough to
enable her to distinctly recognize the girl in the waitress's dress,
who sat on the low seat and held the youth's head in her lap. If there
had still been any doubt in the watcher's mind, it would have been put
at rest by the sight of the red braids, with which the little Samaritan
appeared to be caressing the insensible man.

With quick strokes of the oars the boat shot out on the broad surface
of the lake. A few minutes, and the figures in it had faded into
shadows. Soon, only a faint line on the lake's polished mirror
indicated the course the silent craft had taken.

A quarter of an hour after, Irene entered the room next to the
dancing-hall, where the old countess was impatiently awaiting the
return of her cavalier, who had only left her to make preparations for
the homeward voyage. She was frightened by the Fraeulein's colorless
face, and overwhelmed her with anxious inquiries. Irene handed her the
lieutenant's note, in lieu of any other answer. The lively excitement
into which this very unfortunate incident threw the good lady diverted
her thoughts completely from Irene's condition. The young people, too,
who were hastily called away from their dancing, were far too much
occupied with one another, and with the question what was to be done,
to find anything odd in Irene's mute and stony manner. Besides, she had
already complained of a headache. The countess scolded at Schnetz for
having taken no thought of her. To whom could they intrust the guidance
of the vessel now? She flatly refused Elfinger's and Rosenbusch's
willingly-offered aid, nor would she listen to such a thing as their
looking about for a boatman in the house, but declared tha