"hai-hai-dia-hia-do."

He actually danced on the dusty road--a galop.

Was it possible? That madonna face, than which I have never seen a more
beautiful, more enchanting--either before or since that day!

CHAPTER XI

"PAROLE D'HONNEUR"

Two days after Lorand's disappearance a travelling coach stopped before
Mr. Fromm's house. From the window I recognized coach-horses and
coachman: it was ours.

Some one of our party had arrived.

I hastened down into the street, where Father Fromm was already trying
very excitedly to turn the leather curtain that was fastened round the
coach....

No, not "some one!" the whole family was here! All who had remained at
home. Mother, grandmother, and the Fromms' Fanny.

Actually mother had come: poor mother!

We had to lift her from the carriage: she was utterly broken down. She
seemed ten years older than when I had last seen her.

When she had descended, she leaned upon Fanny on the one side, on the
other upon me.

"Only let us go in, into the house!" grandmother urged us on, convinced
that poor mother would collapse in the street.

All who had arrived were very quiet: they scarcely answered me, when I
greeted them. We led mother up into the room, where we had had our first
reception.

Mother Fromm and grandmother Fromm were not knitting stockings on this
occasion; it seemed they were prepared for this appearance. They too
received my parents very quietly and solemnly: as if everyone were
convinced that the first word addressed by anyone to this broken-down,
propped up figure would immediately reduce it to ashes, as the story
goes about some figures they have found in old tombs. And yet she had
come on this long, long journey. She had not waited for the weather to
grow warmer. She had started in the teeth of a raw, freezing spring
wind, when she heard that Lorand was gone.

Oh, is there any plummet to sound the depths of a mother's love?

Poor mother did try so hard to appear strong. It was so evident, that
she was struggling to combat with her nervous attacks, just in the very
moment which awoke every memory before her mind.

"Quietly, my daughter--quietly," said grandmother. "You know what you
promised: you promised to be strong. You know there is need of strength.
Don't give yourself over. Sit down."

Mother sat down near the table where they led her, then let her head
fall on her two arms, and, as she had promised not to weep--she did not
weep.

It wa