red that the tune set for his departure was
already past. Taking a rapid leave of his sister, he started to rush
off, but she held him for a moment.

"Please, Philip, try to find out for me about the little girl, to whom
she belongs, and with whom she is travelling," she begged him eagerly.
"Please do that for me! If your supposition, that she is Leonore's child
is right, I simply must see her. Nobody can prevent me from seeing her
once at least."

"We'll see, we'll see," the brother answered hurriedly, and was gone the
next moment.

The day had started with so much agitation and it had all taken so much
time that Mrs. Maxa had her hands full now in order to complete the most
necessary tasks before the children came back from school.

Maezli was very obedient to-day and had settled down on her little chair.
She was virtuously knitting on a white rag, which was to receive a bright
red border and was destined to dust Uncle Philip's desk. It was to be
presented to him on his next birthday as a great surprise. Maezli had in
her head this and many other thoughts caused by the morning's scene, so
she did not feel the same inclination to set out on trips of discovery as
usual, and remained quietly sitting on her chair. Her mother was
extremely preoccupied, as could easily be seen. Her thoughts had nothing
to do with either the laundry or the orders she was giving to Kathy, nor
the cooking apples she had sorted out in the cellar. Her hand often lay
immovably on these, while she absently looked in front of her. Her
thoughts were up in the castle-garden with the lovely young Leonore, and
in her imagination she was wandering about with her beloved friend,
singing and chattering under the sounding pine trees.

Her brother's news had wakened all these memories very vividly. Then
again she would sigh deeply and another communication filled her full of
anxiety. Bruno had asked her not to wait for him at dinner, as he had
resolved to stop his comrades from a wicked design and therefore would
surely be a trifle late. What this was and what action he meant to
prevent the boy had not had time to say, for Kurt had opened the door at
that moment calling for her with his voice of thunder. All she had been
able to do was to beg Bruno, whatever happened, not to let his anger
become his master. Sooner than the mother had expected Kurt's steps
could be heard hurriedly running into the house followed by a loud call
for her.

"Here I am, Ku