in perfectly
still for a short time. Ludwig had made arrangements to have the whole
group photographed. They all say that I look very sad in the picture;
it may be so, for I could not help thinking, "Where is Ernst now? Does
the sun that now shines on us, shine on him too?" It is especially
pleasant to see Martella and Rothfuss in the background, holding each
other's hands. Annette is also in the family picture; her eyes are
downcast, while Richard is looking towards her. Since the loss of her
husband, she had never laid aside her mourning, but to-day she wore
colors.

The Major's speech at the dinner was even better than the vicar's in
the church.

Martella's best and only treasure was Ernst's prize cup. She had placed
it before me on the table, and Annette had wound a garland of flowers
around it.

After the Major's speech, the wine-cup travelled the rounds of the
whole table.

After the clinking of glasses, and the drinking of healths, the
conversation had become loud and excited; after that, all became as
noiseless as in a church during silent prayer. It was one of those
pauses that ensue after the soul has unburdened itself, and when, for a
moment, there is nothing new to engage it.

And during that pause I could hear Annette saying to Conny, "Yes, dear
Conny, I, as a stranger, beloved and loving in return, can speak more
impartially than relatives can. I cannot describe the mother to you;
and yet I have seen her to-day, or at least her counterpart. When
Julius was standing at the altar, he had her very expression. He
resembles her more than any one--he has her eyes.

"Ah, what a pity that you did not know her! She was full of life, and
yet gentle withal; and when she spoke with you, she never looked to
right or left. She never tried to create an impression, and yet in her
presence one always felt exalted; and while her glance rested on one,
it was impossible to indulge in vile or ignoble thoughts. What to
others seemed exalted and great, was with her a matter of course. She
practised and expressed all that is highest as easily as others say
'Good-morning.' In her hands, even the common-place became invested
with beauty. She judged of people with love, and yet with freedom.

"Thus, she once said, 'I felt inclined to be angry with Baroness
Arven, because she does not understand her excellent husband; but he,
on the other hand, does not do his wife justice. She is created for
society--for interesting, witty