ed!"

"But of course. Certainly I marry. I know quite well who is to marry
me."

The room was taking leave of Mademoiselle almost in silence. The English
were standing together. Miriam heard their voices. "'Dieu, m'selle,
'dieu, m'selle," one after the other and saw hands and wrists move
vigorously up and down. The Germans were commenting, "Ah, she is
engaged--ah, what--_en-gaged._ Ah, the rascal! Hor mal--"

Miriam dreaded her turn. Mademoiselle was coming near... so cheap and
common-looking with her hard grey dress and her cheap jacket with the
hat hiding her hair and making her look skinny and old. She was a more
dreadful stranger than she had been at first... Miriam wished she could
stay. She could not let anyone go away like this. They would not meet
again and Mademoiselle was going away detesting her and them all, going
away in disgrace and not minding and going to be married. All the time
there had been that waiting for her. She was smiling now and showing her
babyish teeth. How could Jimmie hold her by the shoulders?

"Venez mon enfant, venez a l'instant," called Fraulein from the hall.

Mademoiselle made her hard little sound with her throat.

"Why doesn't she go?" thought Miriam as Mademoiselle ran down the room.
"Adieu, adieu evaireeboddie--alla----"

11

"Are all here?"

Jimmie answered and Fraulein came to the table and stood leaning for a
moment upon one hand.

The door opened and the housekeeper shone hard and bright in the
doorway.

"Wasche angekommen!"

"Na, gut," responded Fraulein quietly.

The housekeeper disappeared.

"Fraulein looks like a dead body," thought Miriam.

Apprehension overtook her... "there's going to be some silly fuss."

"I shall speak in English, because the most that I shall say concerns
the English members of this household and its heavy seriousness will be
by those who are not English, sufficiently understood."

Miriam flushed, struggling for self-possession. She determined not
to listen.... "Damn... Devil..." she exhorted herself... "humbugging
creature..." She felt the blood throbbing in her face and her eyes and
looked at no one. She was conscious that little movements and sounds
came from the Germans, but she heard nothing but Fraulein's voice which
had ceased. It had been the clear-cut low-breathing tone she used
at prayers. "Oh, Lord, bother, damnation," she reiterated in her
discomfiture. The words echoing through her mind seemed to cut a way of