rstanding her
thoughts now--or did she perhaps not understand him any longer?

But he was still her dear husband, her good, faithful husband whom
she loved more than anyone else in the world--no, whom she loved as she
loved Woelfchen. The child, oh, the child was the sun round which her
life revolved.

If Paul only had been as he was formerly. She had to cast a covert
glance at him very frequently now, and, with a certain surprise, also
grow accustomed to his outward appearance. Not that his broadening-out
did not suit him; the slight stoutness his slender figure with its
formerly somewhat stiff but always perfect carriage had assumed suited
his years, and the silver threads that commenced to gleam in his beard
and at his temples. It suited also the comfortable velvet coat he
always put on as soon as he came home, suited his whole manner of
being. Strange that anybody could become such a practical person, to
whom everything relating to business had formerly been such a burden,
nay, even most repugnant. He would not have picked up the strange child
from the Venn now, and--Kate gave her husband a long look--he would not
have taken it home with him now as a gift from fairyland.

Had the years also changed her in the same manner? Her looking-glass
did not show her any very great change. There was still the same
girlish figure, which seemed twice as slender beside her husband's
stoutness. Her hair was still fair, and she still blushed like a young
girl to whom a stray look is enough to make the blood, that flows so
easily, invade her delicate cheeks. Yes, she had still remained young
outwardly. But her mind was often weary. Wolf caused her too much
anxiety. A mother, who was ten, fifteen years younger than she, would
not perhaps feel how every nerve becomes strained when dealing
with such a child as she did. Would not such a mother often have
laughed when she felt ready to cry?

Oh, what a boisterous, inexhaustible vital power there was in that
boy! She was amazed, bewildered, exhausted by it. Was he never tired?
Always on his legs, out of bed at six, always out, out. She heard him
tossing about restlessly at daybreak. He slept in the next room to
theirs, and the door between the rooms always stood open, although her
husband scolded her for it. The boy was big enough, did not want
supervising. They need not have that disturbance at night, at any
rate.

But she wanted to watch over his sleep too; she must do so. She
of