"Do you forbid it, Bruck?" she asked, coldly, a baleful fire glowing in her eyes. She had taken the cigar from her mouth for a moment, and held it delicately between her fingers.
It was what the doctor had evidently expected. Without haste, with imperturbable equanimity, he took the cigar from her hand, and threw it into the fire. "Forbid it as your lover?" he asked, with a shrug. "My rights, as yet, do not extend so far. I might entreat you, but I dislike repetition and useless words; and you know perfectly how I detest a cigar in a woman’s mouth. In this instance I forbid it simply as your physician. Your lungs are not strong enough."
Flora stood for an instant confounded by this cool assurance; and his last words evidently impressed her, but she controlled herself. "A terrible diagnosis indeed, Bruck," she said, with a scornful smile. "And the Councillor von Bär, who has attended me from my infancy, never said a word of it. Tales to frighten children! Besides, I have no reason for so loving my life that I should deny myself an enjoyment to preserve it. On the contrary, I shall continue to smoke; in my intellectual vocation I need it, and this vocation is my delight, my moral support,—in it I live and breathe——"
"Until a certain inevitable crisis arrives to reveal to you your true vocation," the doctor interrupted her. His voice sounded hard as steel.
A burning blush crimsoned her cheek. She opened her lips for an angry reply, but her glance fell upon Fräulein von Giese, the piano-player, the sarcastic maid of honour, who was still standing in the door-way, her head and shoulders bent forward, as if eager to catch every word of this interesting dispute, that from it and from the embarrassed faces of the bystanders she might extract material for a charming dish of court scandal. This was certainly to be avoided. Flora turned away with a graceful pout. "Nonsense, Bruck!" she exclaimed. "How prosaic! You have just returned from a pleasure-trip, and have been amusing yourself——"
She stopped. Bruck laid his hand on hers with a firm pressure. "Will you have the kindness to leave my vocation out of the question, Flora?" he asked, emphasizing his words strongly.
"I was speaking of pleasure," she said, pertly, withdrawing her hand from his.