I
snatched her back, but not before her left arm was badly burned."
The Gipsy nodded. "I saw it, Highness."
And that was why Grumbach went to the military ball with opera-glasses!
Carmichael was round-eyed. But Gretchen?
"The Princess Hildegarde has no scar upon either arm," continued
Grumbach. "I have seen them. They are without a single flaw."
"More than that," reiterated the duke. "That is not enough."
They became silent. Now and then one or the other stirred. The duke
never took his eyes off the door through which her highness would enter.
She came in presently, tender with mercy, an arm supporting Gretchen,
who was red-eyed and white.
"You sent for us, father?"
How the word pierced the duke's heart! "Yes, my child," he answered; for
it mattered not who she was or whither she had come, he had grown to
love her.
"I am sorry you sent for Gretchen," said Hildegarde. "She is ill."
Gretchen sighed. To her the faces of the men were indistinct. And,
besides, she was without interest, listless, drooped.
"My child, will you roll up your left sleeve?" said the duke.
"My sleeve?" Hildegarde thoughtfully looked round. Roll up her sleeve?
What possessed her father?
"Do so at once."
"I can not roll up this sleeve, father," blushing and a trifle angry at
so strange a request.
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