The baroness remembered very distinctly having put the letter into the pocket of her dress as Felix was coming up the avenue. The probability therefore was, that she had lost it near the chapel. She remembered also having pulled put her handkerchief once during the conversation, in order to play the offended lady with greater effect. But it was too late that night to make any search for it; she had to spend a sleepless night, and wake up next morning with a violent headache. As soon as she could, she went into the garden and to the chapel. There was no letter to be seen, neither there nor in the beech avenue nor in the bower. Very much disconcerted, the baroness returned to the house. There new trouble awaited her. Oswald sent word that Bruno had passed a sleepless night and was very unwell; would it not be better to send a messenger on horseback for Doctor Braun? He also begged that Malte might be kept down stairs, as he wished Bruno to be alone till the doctor came. The baroness sent back word that she hoped his indisposition would soon be over, and cause no interruption in the regular lessons. As for the doctor, she would let him know when they sent to town. A few hours afterwards Felix sent his excuses for not coming to breakfast; he was quite unwell, but would be certainly down to dinner. Felix was indeed rather worsted by his encounter with Bruno. First and foremost, the burning disgrace of having succumbed to a boy, and of having escaped with his life only, thanks to an accident or a sudden fit of generosity. It required the whole power of his frivolity to get over that painful thought. He tried to persuade himself--and after a while he did persuade himself--that the thing had not been so serious, and that, if he had not slipped so unluckily just when Bruno had leaped upon him, and if his "abominable rheumatism" had not paralyzed his arms, he "would have shaken off the boy like a troublesome fly, and treated him, besides, to a sound drubbing." That, however, in the mean time he had received the drubbing, and the fly had taken good hold of him, was clearly shown by the brown and blue spots which Felix had carried off. On neck and shoulders as sure signs of his defeat. His great valet was not a little surprised when he found his master in a condition which reminded him forcibly of former days, when he was still a cadet, and Cognac and Goulard Water formed regularly part of his toilet. The great man, however, quickly proved that he had no more forgotten the art of curing contusions and discolorations than his master had forgotten the art of getting them, and by dinner-time Felix was in a fit state to present himself in the drawing room. Still, he was doubtful whether he ought to appear at table or not. It was extremely painful to him to think of meeting Bruno, to see the boy's dark eyes rest upon him, full of scorn and satisfaction, and perhaps to have read in Oswald's face that he had been fully informed of the events of last night.