such a
contingency than not.

Madame Dort noticed this, and became quite sharp to him in consequence.

"I must beg you to say good-bye now," she said; "I've a busy day before
me, and have no more time to waste in chatting. Good-morning, Burgher
Jans."

"Good-morning, most worthy lady," said the little fat man, accepting his
dismissal and bowing himself out.

"The ill-natured little manoeuvrer!" exclaimed Madame Dort, half to
herself, as he left the room. Lorischen entered again at the same time,
the two always playing the game apparently of one of those old-fashioned
weather tellers, in which a male or female figure respectively comes out
from the little rustic cottage whenever it is going to be wet or fine;
for, as surely as the Burgher ever entered the sitting-room, the old
nurse withdrew, never returning until he had left. "The ill-natured
little manoeuvrer!" exclaimed Madame Dort, not thinking she was
overheard. "I believe he would be glad to keep poor Fritz away if he
could."

"Just what I've thought all along!" said Lorischen, immensely pleased at
this acknowledgment of her superior power of discernment.

"I mean, not on account of wishing any harm to Fritz," explained the
widow, "but that he himself might be able to come here oftener."

"Just what I've said!" chirped out the old nurse triumphantly; but
Madame Dort made no reply to this second thrust, and before Lorischen
could say anything further, a second visitor came to the little house in
the Gulden Strasse. It seemed fated as if that was to be a day for
callers, and "people who had no business to do preventing those who
had," as the old nurse grumbled while on her way to open the street door
for the new-comer--a courtesy Burgher Jans never required, walking in,
as she said, without asking leave or license, just when he pleased!

The visitor was Herr Grosschnapper, the merchant who employed Fritz in
his counting-house and who was also a part proprietor in the ship in
which Eric had sailed for Java. Madame Dort's heart leapt in her bosom
when she saw the old gentleman enter the parlour.

But, the shipowner's face did not look as if he brought any pleasing
news; and, after one brief glance at his countenance, the widow's fell
in sympathy. She almost anticipated the evil tidings which she was
certain he had in store for her.

"Madame Dort," he began, "pray compose yourself."

"I am quite calm, Herr Grosschnapper," she answered. "Go on with