then shaking his head, answered:

"You are probably mistaken. There has never been an Isabella in this
house to my knowledge, but I will gladly place myself at your service.
Come again after sunset, but you must expect to hear no pleasant tale."

Twilight had scarcely yielded to darkness, when the musician again
entered the Hoogstraten mansion. The little room was empty, but Belotti
did not keep him waiting long.

The old man placed a dainty little waiter, bearing a jug of wine and a
goblet, on the table beside the lamp and, after informing Wilhelm of the
invalids' condition, courteously offered him a chair. When the musician
asked him why he had not brought a cup for himself too, he replied:

"I drink nothing but water, but allow me to take the liberty to sit
down. The servant who attends to the chambers has left the house, and
I've done nothing but go up and down stairs all day. It tries my old
legs, and we can expect no quiet night."

A single candle lighted the little room. Belotti, who had leaned far
back in his chair, opened his clenched hands and slowly began:

"I spoke this morning of the Hoogstraten race. Children of the same
parents, it is true, are often very unlike, but in your little
country, which speaks its own language and has many things peculiar to
itself--you won't deny that--every old family has its special traits. I
know, for I have been in many a noble household in Holland. Every race
has its own peculiar blood and ways. Even where--by your leave--there is
a crack in the brain, it rarely happens to only one member of a family.
My mistress has more of her French mother's nature. But I intended to
speak only of the signorina, and am wandering too far from my subject."

"No, Belotti, certainly not, we have plenty of time, and I shall be glad
to listen to you, but first you must answer one question."

"Why, sir, how your cheeks glow! Did you meet the signorina in Italy?"

"Perhaps so, Belotti."

"Why, of course, of course! Whoever has once seen her, doesn't easily
forget. What is it you wish to know?"

"First, the lady's name."

"Anna."

"And not Isabella also?"

"No, sir, she was never called anything but Anna."

"And when did she leave Holland?"

"Wait; it was--four years ago last Easter."

"Has she dark, brown or fair hair?"

"I've said already that she looked just like Fraulein Henrica. But what
lady might not have fair, brown or dark hair? I think we shall reach
the goal soo