until you let me know by your maid that you are ready for the journey.”
“Then as long as I live, I shall never leave these rooms.”
“And yet, young lady,” said the Count, maliciously, “you shall leave these rooms when I have you taken to the convent to your mother, that you may not be in the way of your uncle, Hypolit of Felsenburk, who from this day is my son, and to whom I shall give all legal rights and titles to my estates and my rank. I have said four weeks—that is long enough for you to decide your fate.”
And the Count, leaving his daughter’s boudoir, turned the key in the last door. Giving it to the horrified maid, he told her to watch the Countess closely, not to let her go anywhere, not to admit any one to her, and not to dare deliver any letters from her to any one except to himself, and he warned her that if she did otherwise she would sadly repent of it.
Maria Felicia, as if struck by lightning, stood long on the spot where her father had
