nnah the way
she used to tear madly off to school in the morning, fearful of being
late.

Karl and Hannah, left behind, looked solemnly at each other. Karl
whistled.

"_Die Kleine_ is irritated about something," he remarked.

"I don't wonder," said Hannah sympathizingly. "I always remember when
it's too late to do any differently. She felt left out, I suppose, and
you know you do use a terrible amount of slang, nowadays. I'm awfully
ashamed of us, Karl!"

Karl pondered a moment. Then he said: "I'll fix it up all right. Here,
you take this note up to Frieda. Just shove it under the door, if she
won't let you in."

He wrote a few lines on a card and gave it to Hannah, who promptly ran
away up stairs with it. Then Karl went into the study and telephoned a
garage.

In a few minutes, Frieda, shy and somewhat red-eyed, came down stairs.
Hannah was nowhere to be seen, and Mrs. Eldred was out for the
afternoon. At the door was a snorting automobile, with seats for just
two.

"I knew Hannah would forgive us if we ran away by our two selves," said
Karl in German, meeting Frieda in the hall, and conducting her out to
the machine. "She knows enough about being in a foreign country to
understand that sometimes you want to be with your very own people.
There! I'll have this thing running like a charm in about a minute. Sure
you're not afraid to go out alone with me? I've learned a good deal
about this kind of thing lately. It's one of the courses I'm taking at
Harvard. Here we go!" And there they went, speeding down the street at a
rate that made a policeman, half asleep on the corner, look about him
with a start. Frieda's eyes shone, and she began to feel better.

Karl had evidently acquitted himself well in his course in motoring. He
drove skilfully and easily, and they were soon outside the city in a
pleasant country road. Almost any place would have seemed pleasant to
Frieda just then, though, for Karl was talking cheerily, merrily,
talking in German, talking of topics she knew about, and talking
exclusively to her. She discovered that the day was much more of a day
than she had thought. There was a quality in the air she had not noticed
earlier in the afternoon. Presently she even became confidential. Karl,
with eyes and hands busy, guiding the machine, bent an attentive ear as
Frieda poured out her suppressed irritation of days.

"They think it is such a fine country, Karl. I cannot understand them.
If they had nev