n on an errand she met the one-year volunteer. They
walked part of the way together. Lisbeth had forgotten her
embarrassment, and chattered away gaily.

Suddenly she remembered her husband's incomprehensible words, and she
began, smilingly; "Do you know, Herr Trautvetter, what my husband has
just been saying to me, that I was to be really nice to you. Have I not
been nice then?"

"What did he mean by that?" Trautvetter asked sharply.

"Well," she laughed, "I ought to have taken back some more money
to-day. But I never mean to do that again. And then he said that if I
were only really nice to you, you would give me lots of money."

She started, so violently had the man struck his sword upon the ground,
and he looked at her quite red and angry.

"Just like the low brute!" he cried.

"What! What do you mean?"

Trautvetter could not contain his wrath. He blurted out: "Don't you
know, Frau Lisbeth, what he meant?--that you should take me for a
lover!"

She met his glance with a straight look; then she hung her head, and
walked dumbly beside him.

"I will go back," she said suddenly.

He took her hand and begged: "Forgive me, Frau Lisbeth! please!"

She nodded silently and turned back on the road they had just
traversed.

In her little sitting-room she sank limply into a chair. The windows
were wide open; she heard the rippling of the brook, and the insects
humming and buzzing in the big willow. At last she roused herself. She
must be certain if Trautvetter was right in his suspicion, and that
would need cunning. Her plan was soon made; it was very simple: she
need only behave as if she had been following her husband's hint, then
he would have to declare himself.

"Henke," she began that evening, "Trautvetter has made a proposal
to-day. As soon as he has finished his service he is going to buy a
place in the country, far away from here, and he wants me to keep house
for him. If you agree, then you shall have a hundred marks a month."

Henke was silent for a time; he was in some doubt what he should say to
this. Lisbeth was so queer and cold, almost uncanny; but on the other
hand she did not seem to be the least annoyed.

In a tone of would-be resignation he said at last: "Well, Lisbeth, if
you don't love me any more, if you think it's for your happiness, and
you like to leave me----" he stopped.

His wife was suddenly standing before him, deathly pale. She shook her
trembling clasped hands in his face, an