By now Sabina was on her knees at Matthew’s side.

“Ha! ha!” laughed Gustav. “Look at her! What did I ever see in the little shrew! She’s nothing but a Jew-loving, American-loving tramp! You’re no German! You’re a traitor, you and your father too—the whole lot of you—traitors!”

By this time both Thaddeus and Baron von Dortmann had hurried to the scene and, within another moment or two, were helping Matthew to his feet. Thaddeus held a handkerchief to his bleeding nose, while Sabina dabbed away the blood oozing from a gash under one ear.

Gustav continued to laugh and shout anti-American and nationalistic oaths, though within another moment or two his father approached to attempt to calm him. The other guests watched the drama silently, several foreign diplomats wondering if what they had just witnessed was but a miniaturized version of events as they were now unfolding throughout the world.

Marion approached her friend and tried to speak some kind words of thanks, best wishes, and farewell, since it was obvious she and her husband and Sabina would now be leaving.

The countess snubbed her rudely, accused her conceited and ill-mannered daughter of ruining her son’s birthday and her own entry back into society, then turned her back and walked away, leaving Marion with tears rising in her eyes, wondering how someone could change so completely.

47 A Talk on Anger

47

A Talk on Anger

Somehow the Frühlingsgarten did not feel the same with her spirits clouded over like they were.

Sabina had been walking the familiar pathways and trails for nearly an hour, going through all the motions of enjoying it as always, and had even clipped a bouquet of roses to take in to her mother.

But none of it could remove the fuming indignation from her breast. Her step was not light nor her pulse slow. Both kept a more rapid cadence than usual, and she could do nothing to calm them.

Her father had seen it immediately at breakfast when he had come in from the fields, but said nothing. Time was always a valuable forerunner to healing, and he would not rush whatever soothing preparatory influences the Spirit’s breezes might bring.

He had more to tend to than just the harvest now in progress, or the matter of Sabina. He would have to speak with her, but first he must drive into town. Doctor Abrahams was on his mind.