ognizes no one; if I go to him it will be to
remove my own distress, not his. Here, on the other hand, is Heimchen
sick and needing me. There is no question as to my duty; I will stay at
the post where not my will, but that of the Highest, has placed me.

She remembered the Lady Superior telling her how her father and mother
had died, and she could not leave her convent to go to them. Manna
resolved to do the same thing voluntarily, under the compulsion of no
vow. She trembled as she thought that it might be better for Roland if
he could die now before he fell into sin, and perhaps had to hear the
dreadful secret. The idea was almost more than she could bear, but she
held her resolution fast.

Manna returned to her cell, meaning to write and tell all that was in
her soul, but she could not. She descended to the reception-room, told
Lootz simply that she could not go back with him; and then, returning
again to her cell, looked out upon the landscape. Life seemed frozen
within her, but as the melting snow dripped from the roof, so her tears
broke forth at last, and she wept bitterly; yet her decision remained
unshaken. The whole night was spent in watching and prayer, and the
next morning she told her story to the Lady Superior, who made no
answer besides a silent inclination of the head.

Again in her cell, Manna read the letter, and was made aware for the
first time that Eric's mother was nursing Roland. The paper trembled in
her hand, as she read of Roland's constant talking with her in his
fevered ravings. Why did her father write nothing of Pranken? Where was
he? she asked herself; then, indignant that her thoughts should still
cling to the world, with a sudden resolve she flung the letter into the
open grate, and watched it break into momentary flame, and then float
in light flakes up the chimney. So had it been in her heart, so ought
it to be; nothing more from the outer world should reach her.

CHAPTER IX.

GROWTH DURING ILLNESS.

"He is saved!" said the doctor, and "He is saved," was repeated by
voice after voice through the whole city.

The doctor enjoined double care in guarding Roland from the least
excitement of any kind, and when the boy complained of the horrible
tedium of his sick-room, both Eric and the doctor laughingly reminded
him that he had his good time in the first place, and that ennui was
the first sure step towards recovery. R