Your father won't thank you for this." With these words Fraulein Van Hoogstraten raised her long train and approached the door.

There she paused, and again glanced enquiringly at Henrica.

The latter doubtless noticed her aunt's hesitation, but without heeding the implied threat intentionally turned her back.
As soon as the door closed, the young girl sank back into her chair, pressed her forehead against the marble slab and let it remain there a long time.

Then she rose as suddenly and hastily as if obeying some urgent summons, raised the lid of her trunk, tossed the stockings, bodices and shoes, that came into her way, out on the floor, and did not rise until she had found a few sheets of writing-paper which she had laid, before leaving her father's castle, among the rest of her property.
As she rose from her kneeling posture, she was seized with giddiness, but still kept her feet, carried to the table first the white sheets and a portfolio, then the large inkstand that had already stood several days in her room, and seated herself beside it.
Leaning far back in her chair, she began to write.

The book that served as a desk lay on her knee, the paper on the book.