on her son's account. But
as the July holidays were almost over and she had not gone away with
him during that time, which would have been more suitable, she would
remain at home for the present. She declared she could not go away.

However, the doctor and her husband arranged everything without her;
the more nervously and anxiously she refused to go, the more urgent a
thorough cure seemed to be to them. The day of departure had already
been proposed.

But Lisbeth gave notice beforehand: no, if the mistress was going
away for so long and the master too, she would go as well. Remain alone
with Wolfgang, with _that_ boy? No, that she wouldn't.

She must have saved a tidy little sum during the well-nigh ten years
she had been in the house, for even the promise of a rise could not
keep her. She persisted in her wish to leave, and threw an angry look
at the boy, whose laughing face appeared outside above the windowsill
at that moment.

Kate was beside herself. Not only because she did not want the
servant she had had so long to leave her, but she had reckoned so
firmly on Lisbeth keeping a watchful eye on the boy during her absence.
And it pained her that she spoke of Wolfgang in such a tone full of
hate. What had the child done to her?

But Lisbeth only shrugged her shoulders without speaking, and looked
sulky and offended.

Paul Schlieben took the boy in hand. "Just tell me, my boy, what's
been the trouble between you and Lisbeth? She has given notice, and it
seems to me she's leaving on your account. Listen"--he cast a keen
glance at him--"I suppose you've been cheeky to her?"

The boy's face brightened: "Oh, that's nice, that's nice that she's
going." He did not answer the question that had been put to him at
all.

His father caught him by the ear. "Answer me, have you been cheeky
to her?"

"Hm." Wolfgang nodded and laughed. And then he said, still
triumphing in the remembrance: "It was only yesterday. I gave
her a smack in the face. Why does she always say I've no right
here?"

The man did not tell anything of this to his wife; she would only
have brooded over it. He had not punished the boy either, only shaken
his finger at him a little.

Lisbeth went away. She left the house, in which she had served
so long and faithfully and in which she had had to put up with so
much--as she weepingly assured her mistress, who was also overcome
with emotion--like an offended queen.

Another maid had been engaged, o