It was foolish of the children to have placed him beside her.
"A letter, Mrs. Baumhagen." Sophie brought in a simple white envelope.
"Without any post-mark? Who left it?" she asked, looking at the handwriting which was quite unknown to her.
"An old servant or coachman, I did not know him."
Mrs. Baumhagen shook her head as she took the letter and read it.
She rose suddenly, with a deep flush on her face, and called:
The active little woman had already rung the bell and said to Sophie as she entered:
"Call Mrs. Fredericks and my son-in-law, tell them to come quickly, quickly!--Gertrude, I must have an explanation of this. But I must collect myself first, must--"
"Mamma," entreated the young girl, turning slightly pale, "let us discuss the matter alone--why should Jenny and Arthur--?"
"Do you know then what is in this letter?" cried the excited mother.
"Yes," replied Gertrude, firmly, coming up to the arm chair into which her mother had thrown herself.
"With my consent, mamma," repeated the young girl, a clear, bright crimson staining the beautiful face.
Mrs. Baumhagen said not another word, but began to cry bitterly.
"When did you permit him to write to me?" she asked, after a long pause, drying her eyes.
At this moment Jenny thrust her pretty blonde head in at the door.
"Jenny!" cried the mother, the tears again starting to her eyes, and the obstinate lines about the mouth coming out more distinctly.
"For Heaven's sake, what is the matter?" cried the young wife.
Mrs. Jenny recovered her composure at once. "Well," she cried, lightly, "is that so great a misfortune?"
"But, to whom, to whom!" cried the mother.
"To that--that--yesterday--Linden is his name, Frank Linden. Here it is down in black and white,--a man that I have hardly seen three times!"
Jenny turned her large and wondering eyes upon Gertrude, who was still standing behind her mother's chair.
"Good gracious, Gertrude," she cried, "what possessed you to think of him?"
"What possessed you to think of Arthur?" asked the young girl, straightening herself up. "How do people ever think of each other? I don't know, I only know that I love him, and I have pledged him my word."
"Last evening, in your red room, Jenny,--if you think the _when_ has anything to do with the matter."