“Signora, may I ask you, were you present?” Violetta addressed Laura.

“I will answer most honestly that I was not,” said Laura.

“The marriage was a secret one; perhaps?”

“Even for friends, you see.”

“Necessarily, no doubt,” Lena said, with an idea of easing her sister’s stupefaction by a sarcasm foreign to her sentiments.

Adela Sedley, later in exactly comprehending what had been spoken, glanced about for some one who would not be unsympathetic to her exclamation, and suddenly beheld her brother entering the room with Weisspriess.  “Wilfrid!  Wilfrid! do you know she is married?”

“So they tell me,” Wilfrid replied, while making his bow to the duchess.  He was much broken in appearance, but wore his usual collected manner.  Who had told him of the marriage?  A person downstairs, he said; not Count Ammiani; not signor Balderini; no one whom he saw present, no one whom he knew.

“A very mysterious person,” said the duchess.

“Then it’s true after all,” cried Laura.  “I did but guess it.”  She assured Violetta that she had only guessed it.

“Does Major Weisspriess know it to be true?” The question came from Anna.

Weisspriess coolly verified it, on the faith of a common servant’s communication.

The ladies could see that some fresh piece of mystery lay between him and Wilfrid.

“With whom have you had an interview, and what have you heard?” asked Lena, vexed by Wilfrid’s pallid cheeks.

Both men stammered and protested, out of conceit, and were as foolish as men are when pushed to play at mutual concealment.

The duchess’s chasseur, Jacob Baumwalder Feckelwitz, stepped up to his mistress and whispered discreetly.  She gazed straight at Laura.  After hesitation she shook her head, and the chasseur retired.  Amalia then came to the rescue of the unhappy military wits that were standing a cross-fire of sturdy interrogation.

“Do you not perceive what it is?” she said to Anna.  “Major Weisspriess meets Private Pierson at the door of my house, and forgets that he is well-born and my guest.  I may be revolutionary, but I declare that in plain clothes Private Pierson is the equal of Major Weisspriess.  If bravery made men equals, who would be Herr Pierson’s superior?  Ire has done me the honour, at a sacrifice of his pride, I am sure, to come here and meet his sister, and rejoice me with his society.  Major Weisspriess, if I understand the case correctly, you are greatly to blame.”

“I beg to assert,” Weisspriess was saying as the duchess turned her shoulder on him.

“There is really no foundation,” Wilfrid began, with similar simplicity.

“What will sharpen the wits of these soldiers!” the duchess murmured dolefully to Laura.

“But Major Weisspriess was called out of his room by a message—­was that from Private Pierson?” said Anna.

“Assuredly; I should presume so,” the duchess answered for them.