"He did not know," said she, "how fond I was of my cypress. Why did he take it away? It matters not what hand has committed this profanation, but may it be cursed!" As Porporina cast the chaplet from her, with an expression of great sadness, she saw a slip of white parchment fall from it, which she picked up, and on which she read these words, in an unknown hand:--
"Every noble action merits a recompense, and the only one worthy of great souls is the homage of hearts that sympathise. Let the cypress disappear from your bedside, my generous sister, and let these flowers rest on your brow, if but for a moment. It is your bridal crown--it is the pledge of your eternal marriage with virtue, and of your admission into the communion of the true believers."
Consuelo examined these characters with great surprise for a long time, and her imagination sought in vain to discover some similarity to Count Albert's writing. In spite of the distrust she entertained of the kind of initiation to which she was invited--in spite of the revulsion inspired by the promises of magic, which then was very popular in all Germany and all philosophical Europe--in spite of the advice her friends had given her, to be on her guard--the last words of the red domino, and the expressions of the anonymous note, excited her imagination almost to the point of downright curiosity, which may rather be called poetic anxiety. Without knowing why she obeyed the affectionate injunction of her unknown friends, she placed the coronet on her dishevelled hair, and fixed her eyes on a glass, as if she expected to see behind her the unknown apparition.
She was roused from her reverie by a short, distinct ring at the door, and a servant came to tell her that the Baron Von Buddenbrock had a word to say to her. This _word_ was pronounced with all the arrogance an aide-de-camp always assumes when he is no longer under his master's eyes.
"Signorina," said he, when she had gone into the saloon, "you must go with me to the king at once. Make haste--the king awaits you."
"I will not wait on the king in slippers and in a _robe-de-chambre_," said La Porporina.
"I give you five minutes to dress," said Buddenbrock, taking his watch from his pocket and pointing to the door of her chamber.