The Price He Paid — page 121: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

112 THE BARON’S DECREE. mother’s apartments. The baroness, who was a late riser, had but just completed her morning toilet. On going into the breakfast-room, she missed her daughter, who was generally there before her, and was about to inquire of the servants as to the reason of her absence when the young giri herself appeared. ) “Why; child, where have you been all this time? Not out of doors, I hope, in such miserable weather. You would take a dreadful cold, wandering about in that light morning dress. But you look quite pale and disturbed! Has anything happened?” “No, mamma,” said her daughter, in a low, half- stifled voice. The baroness looked at her with concern. “You are not well, lam sure. You were over- heated with dancing yesterday evening, when we went through those cold corridors. Take a little hot tea, dear—it will do you good.” Gabrielle declined the offered cup. “No, thank you, mamma. I would rather go back to my room, and try and rest a little.” “But your uncle is accustomed to see you here at breakfast-time.” “Tell him I am not well. He will not miss me to- day. I cannot stay.” With these words she left the room, The baron- ess remained alone, wondering nota little at her daughter’s sudden fit of reserve, which was as strange to her as the white wan look on that bloom- ing face. At this moment the baron’s valet entered with a message from his excellency, who begged to be excused—he would not appear at breakfast that morning. In the chancellery the governor’s appearance was that day looked for in vain. It was his custom to go there early in the morning, but on this occasion he remained shut up in his study, and allowed the most necessary business to be transacted by Coun- cilor Moser. The councilor, who had some press- ing matters to submit to his chief’s notice, came back from an audience with an important mien, and Gomicbooks- co