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.