ouths full to stare. But
the fair apparition did not move, and stared at the two men in helpless
confusion.

"Why, Mamsell Rauchfuss," said the little woman with the heart-shaped
face, "to what do I owe the pleasure ...?"

The strange creature did not answer, but kept on staring. Evidently she
was struggling with something that she wanted to say and could not.

"Oh, but won't you sit down, Mamsell?" said Herr Leinhose, pulling up a
chair to the table.

"Tell me, for heaven's sake, what has happened!" cried the widow in a
faint voice.

Then the strange being sat down on the chair, threw her arms out
desperately on the table, buried her face in them, and began to sob.
The widow laid a soothing hand on her shoulder. "Oh, don't marry my
father!" came out passionately and yet with a tender sound like a
breath of spring from between the sobs. "It would be such a pity for
you!" The girl now gave free rein to her tears.

"But who is thinking of any such thing?" asked the little widow, much
annoyed.

"Yes, you are--you are! And so is my father--I know it! For heaven's
sake, don't! You've no idea how wretched it is up there." Her sobs were
so wild and unrestrained that it seemed she had been damming them up
for years, and now it was like the breaking loose of a torrent in the
spring. "I was so afraid that I ran all the way down--I just had to
tell you! It would have been a great sin if I hadn't. If you only knew
how sad my poor mother always was, and how sadly--how sadly--she died!"

The poor dear child, meaning so well in her anguish of heart and yet
doing the widow such an ill turn, was still resting her head with its
glorious crown of hair on her outstretched arms. She did not see how
the two boarders were casting amused glances at the widow, or how pale
her face was and full of woe at the thought of labor spent in vain and
hope dispelled. Solitary in the midst of these three, who all had their
own private thoughts, the lovely young creature wept.

"Ah ... ah ...!" said Herr Oehmchen at last--"Our beloved Frau
Marianne!" His voice sounded rather poisonous. Heaven only knew whether
he had ever taken any advantage of the kindness and readiness of his
benefactress--but he wished to be the one to choose or to reject, not
she. _He_ was the injured one. Herr Leinhose's conduct was very
similar; he also felt himself a lord of creation, and relieved himself
by a grieved and unkind remark or two. The little widow was helples