' The baron, who was in a more towering passion than well became the
wisdom to which he made pretence, said, 'Are you, too, such a fool?' and
retained his purpose.
"The Baroness of Arnheim at this moment entered the hall, looking just so
pale from her late confinement as to render her lovely countenance more
interesting, if less animated, than usual. Having paid her compliments
to the assembled company, she was beginning to inquire why Madame de
Steinfeldt was not present, when her husband made the signal for the
company to move forward to the chapel, and lent the baroness his arm to
bring up the rear. The chapel was nearly filled by the splendid company,
and all eyes were bent on their host and hostess as they entered the place
of devotion immediately after four young ladies, who supported the infant
babe in a light and beautiful litter. As they passed the threshold, the
baron dipt his finger in the font-stone and offered holy-water to his
lady, who accepted it, as usual, by touching his finger with her own. But
then, as if to confute the calumnies of the malevolent lady of Steinfeldt,
with an air of sportive familiarity which was rather unwarranted by the
time and place, he flirted on her beautiful forehead a drop or two of the
moisture which remained on his own hand. The opal, on which one of these
drops had lighted, shot out a brilliant spark like a falling star, and
became the instant afterwards lightless and colourless as a common pebble,
while the beautiful baroness sunk on the floor of the chapel with a deep
sigh of pain.
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