When Dorothea was missed that night, and the Baron had communicated the history of his unfortunate courtship, the whole house was thrown into the greatest confusion. Servants were sent out with lights, but all came back in the stormy night without intelligence. The mother was very uneasy, and seemed to reproach herself with having urged a violent temper, such as she knew her eldest daughter's to be, too far. She did not go to rest, but wandered about in the house, and her two younger daughters endeavoured to comfort her. In the morning appeared a messenger from Madame von Halden, and delivered a note to the Baroness; shortly after a coach drew up, from which Dorothea alighted, whom her mother received with a forced composure. But little was said, not a word of reproach however was heard, and the daughter could as little produce an apology. The Baron, who had observed every thing with anxiety and confusion, said at last, when he saw himself alone with the Baroness; "This letter has certainly done wonders! Of all that you proposed to yourself with regard to this perverse girl, not a particle has been executed, you are, on the contrary, kinder to her than ever. May I not be allowed to know, from whom it comes, and what it contains?" The Baroness reddened. "It comes from that Brandenstein," said she with a tremulous voice: "but the conclusion contains the grossest calumny." The Baron read: "In the event of your giving, as I firmly hope, a kind reception to your noble, sorrowing daughter, teazing her under no pretext whatever, and abandoning all thoughts of marrying her to Baron Wallen, I promise you the sum which the Baron has to demand of you, and a considerable loan besides, both without interest, for an indefinite time. Do not force me into hostilities, or several things may take wind which do not suit that model of virtue, which the world admires in you. I may certainly subscribe myself "Your friend, "G. Brandenstein." "This note intimates," said the Baron with a sneer; "that our heroic Count has large sums at his disposal, and that his American friend or ward, to whom he plays the part of tutor or steward, is probably a sufficient simpleton; just according to my idea of the affair from the beginning. The generous man, as circumstances require, will dip his hand deep into the purse of his outlandish prodigy, and thus on closer inspection does the gilding disappear from every puffed out Cato, and change into copper." The affair however assumed a different aspect, when the next day a letter came from Brandenstein, in which he applied for Dorothea's hand on behalf of his wealthy American. He had convinced himself, so he wrote, that his friend, with whom he was intimately acquainted, could be happy with no other being.