if one
wants to--that there were no grounds for a divorce, and I said to mamma
too, 'Gertrude,' said I, 'leave him? Incredible! She is dead in love
with the man. He might have murdered somebody, I really believe, and
she would still find excuses for him.' Was I right?"

Gertrude suffered tortures. She wrung her hands in silence and her eyes
were fixed on the dark sky above her in which the evening star was now
sparkling with a greenish light. Jenny yawned again.

"Ah, just think," she continued, "you don't know what we quarrelled
about, Arthur and I. He reproached me with spending too much on my
dress; of course that was only a pretext to give vent to his ill
temper--there were business letters very likely containing bad news. I
replied that did not concern him, I did not inquire into his expenses.
Then he was cross and declared that I had tried in Nice to copy the
dresses of the elegant French women. But it is not true, for I only
bought two dresses there. Gracious, yes, they were rather dearer than
if my dressmaker in Berlin had made them. Of course I said again, 'That
is not your affair, for I pay for them.' Then he talked in a very moral
strain about honorable women and German women who helped to increase
the prosperity of a house. Other fortunes besides ours had been thrown
away and when the truth was known it was always the fault of 'Madame.'
He found fault with mamma for making herself so ridiculous with her
youthful costumes, and at last he declared we owed some duty to our
future children--Heaven preserve me! I have had to give up my poor
sweet little Walter, and I will have no more. The pain of losing him
was too great; I should die of anxiety. In short, he played the part of
a real provincial Philistine, and finally even that of Othello, for he
declared Col. von Brelow always had such a confidential air with me.
That was too much for my patience. I proposed that we should separate
then. You understand I only said so--for he is pretty obedient
generally, when I hold the reins tight. And as I said before one can't
get free for nothing. 'I will go at once!' I cried, and then I ran up
to mamma."

"Stop, I beg of you," cried Gertrude, hastily rising. She rang for a
light and when Johanna brought the lamp it lighted up a feverish face,
and eyes swollen as if with burning tears, and yet Gertrude had not
wept.

"How you look, child," remarked Jenny. "Well, and what is to be done
now? I must tell mamma something