This battle on paper was not without practical results.  The baroness paid daily visits to her “Children’s Home”; and on mild spring days the count very often saw her sitting on the open veranda, with her companion and one or two maid-servants, sewing at children’s garments until late in the evening.  The count, on his part, sent every day for his little protege, and spent several hours patiently teaching the lad, in order that he might compete favorably with the baroness’s charges.  The task was by no means an easy one, as the lad possessed a very dull brain.  This was, it must be confessed, an excellent thing for the orphans.  If the motherly care which the baroness lavished on her charges were to be given to all destitute orphans in children’s asylums, then the “convict system” certainly was a perfect one; while, on the other hand, if a preceptor like Count Vavel took it upon himself to instruct a forsaken lad, then one might certainly expect a genius to evolve from the little dullard growing up in a peasant’s cottage.

Ultimately, however, the victory fell to the lady.  It happened as follows: 

One day the count was again the recipient of a letter from his neighbor at the manor (they had not yet exchanged verbal communication).

The letter ran thus: 

“HERR COUNT:  I dare say you know that the father of your little protege is no other than the notorious robber, Satan Laczi, whom it is impossible to capture.  The mother of the lad was arrested on suspicion.  She lived in the village under her own honest family name—­Satan Laczi being only a thief’s appellation.  As nothing could be proved against her, the woman has been set at liberty, and has returned to the village.  Here she found every door closed against her—­for who would care to shelter the wife of a robber?  At last the poor woman came to me, and begged me to give her work.  My servants are greatly excited because I have taken her into my employ; but I am convinced that the woman is innocent and honest.  Were I to cast her adrift, she might become what she has been accused of being—­the accomplice of thieves.  I know she will conduct herself properly with me.  I tell you all this because, if you approve what I have done, you will permit the lad you have taken under your protection to come to the manor, where he would be with his mother.  If, however, you condemn my action, you will refuse to grant my request, and generously continue to care for the lad in your own way.  The decision I leave to you.”

Count Vavel was forced to capitulate.  The baroness’s action—­taking into her household the woman who had been repulsed by all the world—­was so praiseworthy, so sublime, that nothing could approach it.  That same day he sent the lad with Frau Schmidt to the manor, and herewith the correspondence between himself and the baroness ceased.  There was no further subject for argument.

And yet, Count Vavel could not help but think of this woman.  Who was she?