A week later they were back in Vienna.

On the same day as his conversation with Judith, the count had announced his decision to travel ahead of the others as quartermaster, to look after things in the mansion, where a suite of new rooms had been prepared. The truth, though, was that he just wanted to avoid sharing a railway compartment with Egon. He felt distinctly that he would fail to strike the right note, and might be unable to resist his tendency to sarcasm which, if unjustified, would seem simply insulting, and if justified, would make his questioning appear like that of an old gossip. He wished to remove the possibility of both the one and the other. In Vienna, encounters between them could be kept within limits, even assuming, which seemed doubtful, that such encounters were desirable. In any case the diversions of the metropolis were the best means of granting him a clearer view and restoring his unbiased judgment.

These diversions did indeed have an effect on him; all the more easily since his powers of observation, keenly acute despite an outward casualness, met with nothing which might feed the suspicions in his mind. Egon, when he appeared in the evenings in the old countess's salon, was more serious and taciturn than usual, but in his conduct toward Franziska there was neither any special reserve nor special intimacy. And so it was no wonder that the old uncle regained, if not a sense of complete trust, then a certain mid-ground of feeling, with just enough hopefulness to justify his marking the start of the season with a musical soiree, followed by a festive ball.