she could; many a
dish of trout had she served up for him. And now she sat in the sunshine,
knitting and waiting, scarcely ever looking up. That was her life.

"Catharina," he said, as he gave her back her knitting, "do you remember
how you used to cook me the trout?"

Another smile passed over her face. Yes, she remembered.

"Will you cook me some to-day?"

She shook her head, and returned to her knitting.

Bernardine watched the Disagreeable Man with amazement. She could not
have believed that his manner could be so tender and kindly. The old
mother standing near her whispered:

"He was always so good to us all; we love him, every one of us. When
poor Catharina was betrothed five years ago, it was to Herr Allitsen we
first told the good news. He has a wonderful way about him--just look at
him with Catharina now. She has not noticed any one for months, but she
knows him, you see."

At that moment the other members of the household came: Liza, Fritz, and
Truedchen; Liza, a maiden of nineteen, of the homely Swiss type; Fritz, a
handsome lad of fourteen; and Truedchen, just free from school, with her
school-satchel swung on her back. There was no shyness in their greeting;
the Disagreeable Man was evidently an old and much-loved friend, and
inspired confidence, not awe. Truedchen fumbled in his coat pocket, and
found what she expected to find there, some sweets, which she immediately
began to eat, perfectly contented and self-satisfied. She smiled and
nodded at Robert Allitsen, as though to reassure him that the sweets
were not bad, and that she was enjoying them.

"Liza will see to lunch," said the old mother. "You shall have some
mutton cutlets and some _forellen_. But before she goes, she has
something to tell you."

"I am betrothed to Hans," Liza said, blushing.

"I always knew you were fond of Hans," said the Disagreeable Man.
"He is a good fellow, Liza, and I'm glad you love him. But haven't you
just teased him!"

"That was good for him," Liza said brightly.

"Is he here to-day?" Robert Allitsen asked.

Liza nodded.

"Then I shall take your photographs," he said.

While they had been speaking, Catharina rose from her seat, and passed
into the house.

Her mother followed her, and watched her go into the kitchen.

"I should like to cook the _forellen_," she said very quietly.

It was months since she had done anything in the house. The old mother's
heart beat with pleasure.

"Catharina, my be