brother's face flamed at first and then grew white
as he recapitulated what the reader already knows, dwelling at length
upon the enquiries he had made in New York, all of which had been
fruitless. There was the name Jerrine on the child's clothing, he said
and the initials 'N.B.' on that of her mother, who was evidently French,
although she must have come from Germany.'

'Yes,' Arthur replied, 'the child is a German, and interests me greatly.
Her face and something in her voice has haunted me all the afternoon.
Was there nothing in that trunk or the carpet-bag which would be a
clue?'

'Nothing,' Frank replied, although it seemed to him it was the shadow
speaking for him, or at least putting the lie into his mouth. There were
articles of clothing, all very plain, and a picture book printed at
Leipsic, I can get that for you if you like, though it tells nothing
unless it he that the mother lived in Leipsic.'

Frank talked very rapidly, and laid so much stress on Leipsic, that
Arthur got an idea that Jerry had actually come from there, just as his
brother meant he should, and he began to speak of the town and recall
all he knew of it.

'I was never there but once,' he said, 'for although I spent a great
deal of time in Germany, it was mostly in Heidleberg and Wiesbaden. Oh,
that is lovely,--Wiesbaden--and nights now, when I cannot sleep, I fancy
that I am there again, in the lovely park, and hear the music of the
band, and see the crowds of people strolling through the grounds, and I
am there with them, though apart from the rest, just where a narrow
path turns off from a bridge, and a seat is half hidden from view
behind the thick shrubberies. There I sit again with Gretchen, and feel
her hand in mine and her dear head on my arm. Oh, Gretchen--'

There was a sob now in his voice, and he seemed to be talking to himself
rather than to his brother, who said to him:

'Gretchen lived in Wiesbaden, then?'

'Yes; but for heaven's sake pronounce it with a V, and not a W, and in
two syllables instead of three,' Arthur answered, pettishly, his ear
offended as it always was with a discordant sound or mispronounciation.

'Veesbaden, then,' Frank repeated, understanding now why Jerry had
stumbled over the name when he once spoke it to her.

Clearly she had come from Wiesbaden, where Gretchen had lived, and where
he believed she had died, though he did not tell Arthur so; he merely
said:

'Gretchen was your sweetheart, I