tionate, repentant courtesy, she thanked the Dubois couple and,
when Frau Traut saw that she was trying to rearrange her hair and dress,
she helped her, and in doing so one woman confessed to the other what
she had lost in the child.

Adrian's yielding had pleased Barbara. Besides, during the years of
her intercourse with Massi she had heard many things about his
residence--nay, every member of his household--and therefore she could
now form a picture of his future life.

So she had grown quieter, though by no means perfectly calm.

Her husband, who must have already returned from his journey, and had
not found her at home, would scarcely receive her pleasantly, but she
cared little for that if only he had not been anxious about her, and in
his joy at seeing her again did not clasp her tenderly in his arms. That
would have been unbearable to-day. She would have liked it best if Massi
would really have taken her with him as her child's nurse to Leganes,
his residence. Thereby she would have reached the place where she
thought she belonged--by the side of the child, in whom she beheld
everything that still rendered her life worth living.

Nevertheless, on her way home she thought with maternal anxiety of her
two boys; but the nearer she approached the unassuming quarter of the
city where she lived the more vividly she felt that she did not belong
there, but in the part of Brussels whence she came.

Her own home was far more richly and prettily furnished than her old one
in Red Cock Street, but it did not yet satisfy her desires, and she did
not feel content in it. To-day a slight feeling of aversion even came
over her as she thought of it.

Perhaps the best plan would have been for her to put an end to this
misery, and, instead of returning, make a pilgrimage to Compostella
in Spain, and while doing so try to find her John in Leganes. But even
while yielding to these thoughts Barbara felt how sinful they were. Did
not her little house look attractive and pretty? It was certainly the
prettiest and neatest in the neighbourhood, and as she drew nearer
pleasure at the thought of seeing her children again awoke. An unkind
reception from her husband would have been painful, after all.

But she was to receive no greeting at all from him. Pyramus had been
detained on the way. Barbara felt this as a friendly dispensation of
Providence. But something else spoiled her return home. Conrad,
her oldest boy, two-year-old Conrad,