me time ago,
and only waited till your parents spoke to me of going to England to
tell them what I thought was my duty to do. And this is what has been
settled. If you still wish it, as your parents do, I shall remain here
till you leave, and accompany you back to Baden-Baden, where your
parents tell me they intend going for a week or so. From there I propose
returning to my friends in the Forest, not to live there any more, but
for a few days' visit to see them who are so dear to me. After that I
shall live with Miss Drechsler. Her sister is dead, and has left her a
good deal of money, and she is now going to settle in Dringenstadt, and
have a paid companion to reside with her. And, Adeline, that situation
she has offered to me."

"Well, Frida," interrupted her friend, "did not I wish you to be my
companion? and would not my parents have given you any sum you
required?"

"O Adeline dear, hush, I pray of you, and let me finish my story. You
_know_ that it is not a question of money; but you are so well, dear,
that you do not really _need_ me. You have your parents and friends.
Miss Drechsler is alone, and I can never forget all she has done for me.
Then I am young, and cannot consent to remain in dependence even on such
dear friends as you are. I intend giving lessons in violin-playing at
Dringenstadt and its neighbourhood. Miss Drechsler writes she can
secure me two or three pupils at once, and she is sure I will soon get
more, as the new villas near Dringenstadt are now finished, and have
been taken by families. And then, Adeline, living there I shall be near
enough to the Forest to carry on the work which I believe God has called
me to, in reading to these poor people the words of life. And at Miss
Drechsler's I mean to live, as long as she requires me, _unless_ I am
claimed by any of my own relations, which, as you know, is a most
unlikely event. I believe I am right in the decision I have come to. So
once again I pray of you, dear Adeline, not to dissuade me from my
purpose. You know how much I love you all, and how grateful I am to you.
Only think how ignorant I would have been had not your dear parents
taken me and got me educated, as if I had been their own child. Oh, I
can never, never forget all that you have done for me!"

Adeline's warm heart was touched, and her good sense convinced her, in
spite of her dislike to the plan, that her friend was right. "Well,
Frida," she said, after a minute or two's silen