In a moment the whole party were on their feet, while Lenora screamed and ran to her father.

“It’s nothing,” said De Vlierbeck, striving, after a minute or two, to rally himself.  “I am faint; the confined air of this room overcame me.  Let me walk a while in the garden and I will soon be better.”

As he said this he staggered to his feet, and, supported by Lenora and Gustave, moved toward the garden, followed by Denecker with an expression of the deepest concern.  A short rest in the open air beneath the shade of a noble chestnut-tree quickly restored a faint color to De Vlierbeck’s cheek and enabled him to tranquillize their anxiety about his sudden attack.

“I will rest here a while out of doors,” said he, “for fear the fit might return; and perhaps a slow walk in the garden might hasten my recovery.”

“It will do both of us good,” answered Denecker; “and, besides, as I have to quit you at five o’clock, I don’t want to leave Grinselhof without seeing its garden.  Let us take a turn through your walks, and afterward we shall have time enough to finish another bottle.”

As he said this he passed Lenora’s arm within his own, and, casting a coquettish glance at Gustave, began their promenade.  By degrees De Vlierbeck rallied sufficiently to take part in the chat; and gardening, agriculture, sporting, and a hundred different country topics, were fully discussed.  Lenora recovered her spirits and charmed their commercial guest by the mingled charms of her intellectual cleverness and innocent gayety.  Wild as a deer, she dared him to run a race with her, and danced along the paths by his side full of mirth and sportiveness.  In truth, Denecker was altogether captivated by the ingenuous girl, and, as he looked on her radiant face, could not help thinking that the future had some happy days in store for his gallant nephew.  After a while Lenora strayed off in advance with Gustave, while the two elders lingered lazily along the path.  Gustave was charmed with the flowers, the plants, the gold-fish, which Lenora pointed out to him; nor was he at all desirous to shorten their delicious flirtation by returning to the table.  This chimed precisely with the anxiety of De Vlierbeck, who employed every stratagem he could conceive to keep his guest in the open air.  He told stories, repeated jokes, appealed to Denecker’s commercial knowledge, and even quizzed him a little when he found their conversation beginning to flag.  In fact, he was rejoicing that five o’clock, and, of course, the carriage, were rapidly approaching, when Denecker suddenly recalled his nephew from a distant quarter of the garden where he was strolling with Lenora.

“Come, Gustave; come,” said he; “if you wish to drink a parting glass with us let us get in, for the coach will be here in a moment.”

De Vlierbeck instantly became pale as a sheet, and, trembling from head to foot, stared silently at Denecker, who could no longer restrain his surprise at these exhibitions.