She had conquered the ground foot by foot. In the first place, Felix, who had once enjoyed all her favor, and who was now fallen so low, had been compelled to leave the field, and to take his trip to Nice, according to the directions of the physicians. Felix had gone quite willingly. He had nothing more to gain in Grunwald, and nothing to lose but the last faint hope of recovery. His existence in Italy had been secured for several years by his generous aunt, who knew perfectly well that he had only a few months more to live. He had arranged all his affairs, and spoken candidly to his aunt about everything except that one unpleasant story about Timm. He left Anna Maria under the pleasant impression that the impertinent young man had been intimidated by him, and that he had been satisfied with a few hundred dollars. Felix, of course, did not desire to spoil his aunt's good humor by touching this sore point, and thus to ruin his own prospects. He thought he could arrange such matters much better in writing, and "when she sees that the thing cannot be helped, she will submit to it." Thus he left the house, followed by the sincere good wishes of his uncle, and bedewed with the tears of his aunt. "Heaven be thanked, he is gone!" thought the baroness, as she returned to her room through the assembled servants, pressing her handkerchief upon her eyes; "now for Helen to come back, and--the rest will follow." On the same day she paid a visit to the boarding school, and had first a long conversation with Miss Bear. The baroness was very tender to-day. She had just said farewell to a beloved relative whose fate oppressed her heart, and who went probably for a long time, perhaps forever--here the handkerchief performed its duty once more. Her heart was consequently deeply distressed. "Ah, believe me, my dear Miss Bear," she said; "it is hard to have to part in such a way with a young man whom I have loved as my own son; to have to see his youthful vigor cruelly broken, and with it all the fond hopes which had been cherished for his future. And poor Helen, also, will feel the blow sadly; for, if I am not altogether mistaken, a tender attachment had begun to bud between the two relatives, whom Heaven itself seemed to have formed for each other. An attachment which was at first concealed, as happens often enough, by an apparent aversion, and that so successfully that I myself was deceived for a time, and--quite _entre nous_, dear Miss Bear--felt quite angry against the poor child. Now"--and the handkerchief goes once more to the eyes--"now, I know better. But all the greater is my desire to have my dear child back again. Would you take it amiss, my dear Miss Bear, if I were to carry off the precious jewel so soon again, after having entrusted it to your kind and prudent hands?"