ung for the servant, and had given her orders to him in a whisper,
of which I heard the last words, "Please tell Herr Ernst to come in."

The words startled me. Could she have meant my son?

A few moments afterward, a bright-cheeked and erect-looking ensign
entered the room, and saluted us in military fashion. I had forgotten
that Rontheim's only son was also named Ernst, and I now recalled the
fact of his being in my son-in-law's regiment. The ensign referred to
the fact, and also told me that all of his comrades had regretted my
son's leaving the army. His constant flow of spirits and fertility of
invention, had won him the admiration of all of his companions.

Madame Rontheim spoke of my daughter Bertha in the kindest terms, and
praised the tact she had displayed in introducing a new element into
their circle.

The eldest daughter ventured to speak in disparagement of Bertha's
friend, Annette, but the mother adroitly changed the subject, and began
talking about Martella.

As I felt that, in all probability, there had been all sorts of false
tales in regard to Martella, I told them her story. When I ended,
Madame Rontheim said to me, "In taking such a child of nature into a
well-ordered and cultured home, you have pursued the very best plan. I
feel assured that the result of your wife's quiet and sensible course
will both surprise and delight you. Pray tell your wife that I have for
some time intended to visit her, but have concluded to wait until it
may be convenient to her and her charge to receive me."

While seated with this charming circle at their tea-table--an
institution which this family had introduced in our forest
neighborhood--I had quite forgotten that Rothfuss was outside taking
charge of the sleigh. But now I heard the loud crack of his whip, and
bade my hosts a hasty farewell.

When I got into the sleigh, Rothfuss said, "Madame, the baroness, has
sent out a hot jug as a foot-warmer for you."

On our way down the hill, Rothfuss walked at the side of the sleigh,
and said to me, "She sent me some tea: it is by no means a cooling
drink, but does not taste so bad after all; it warmed me thoroughly.
Before I drank it, I felt as wet as a drenched goat. Ah, yes! One of
your people of rank is worth more than seventy-seven of your stupid
voters. In all of the crowd that we met to-day there were not a dozen
people with whom I would care to drink a glass of wine."

Rothfuss judged of all persons by their