ecause it was right he liked it, or felt any
consolation from the knowledge--he never once pretended to any such
thing; but, true to his character of Child of the World, hated it with
a hatred as strong as his love for the creature which it deprived him
of. Only--he did it. He is not alone in such circumstances. Others have
obeyed and will again obey this invisible law in circumstances as
anguishing as those in which he stood, will steel their hearts to
hardness while every fiber cries out, "Relent!" or will, like him,
writhe under the lash, shake their chained hands at Heaven, and--submit.

"One more question, Eugen. When?"

"Soon."

"A year would seem soon to any of us three."

"In a very short time. It may be in weeks; it may be in days. Now,
Friedhelm, have a little pity and don't probe any further."

But I had no need to ask any more questions. The dreary evening passed
somehow over, and bed-time came, and the morrow dawned.

For us three it brought the knowledge that for an indefinite time
retrospective happiness must play the part of sun on our mental horizon.

CHAPTER XXIV.

"My Lady's Glory."

"Koenigsallee, No. 3," wrote Adelaide to me, "is the house which has been
taken for us. We shall be there on Tuesday evening."

I accepted this communication in my own sense, and did not go to meet
Adelaide, nor visit her that evening, but wrote a card, saying I would
come on the following morning. I had seen the house which had been taken
for Sir Peter and Lady Le Marchant--a large, gloomy-looking house, with
a tragedy attached to it, which had stood empty ever since I had come to
Elberthal.

Up to the fashionable Koenigsallee, under the naked chestnut avenue, and
past the great long Caserne and Exerzierplatz--a way on which I did not
as a rule intrude my ancient and poverty-stricken garments, I went on
the morning after Adelaide's arrival. Lady Le Marchant had not yet left
her room, but if I were Miss Wedderburn I was to be taken to her
immediately. Then I was taken upstairs, and had time to remark upon the
contrast between my sister's surroundings and my own, before I was
delivered over to a lady's-maid--French in nationality--who opened a
door and announced me as Mlle. Veddairebairne. I had a rapid, dim
impression that it was quite the chamber of a _grande dame_, in the
midst of which stood my lady herself, having slowly risen as I came in.

"At last you have condescended to come," said the old p