six months were
over, news came from Lausanne that Andreas had secretly quitted the
town, leaving behind him disgraceful debts at gambling-houses and
taverns, and making off with money entrusted to him for the business,
in lieu of which a heavy bill drawn on his mother was found in a corner
of his desk.

That bill and all other debts Helena Amthor paid without delay; she
said not a word about them to anybody, and always gave one answer to
whatever enquiries might be made about her son, that he was well and
upon his travels, and that he wrote to her from time to time. Nor was
this statement untrue, for as soon as his money ran short--which often
happened--he turned to his mother, who at that time never refused him.
But as to what there was in his or her letters no mortal creature ever
knew. She left off speaking of him, never introduced his name, so that
at length people grew shy of touching on the sorrow of her life, and
Andreas was virtually dead as far as the whole town of Berne was
concerned. He himself seemed quite content to be so, nor ever expressed
any wish to see his home again. When he came of age and had to settle
matters with his guardian, he curtly sent the latter word what day and
hour he was to meet him at the "Vine-tree," in Strasburg, there to make
over the fortune inherited from his father. But his guardian, a man
already in years, neither could nor would travel so far on his ward's
account. Therefore Frau Helena resolved upon undertaking the sorrowful
journey herself, probably with a last unspoken hope that this meeting
might have some softening effect upon his estranged affections. When,
however, she returned after a ten days' absence, the traces of
confirmed sadness on her fine face were more marked than before, and
from that time forth no one could say that they ever saw her laugh.

And yet fate that had laid this heavy burden on her, had also granted
her consolation in another direction, that might well have gladdened a
less deeply-wounded heart. Her other child Lisabethli, who was about
eight years younger than the lost son, was as admirably endowed, as
obedient and loving, and as completely the delight of every one who
saw her, as her brother was the reverse. And these sweet and lovely
characteristics, though originally a matter of temperament no
doubt, were in no small measure owing to her own self-training and
self-culture; for her mother--more particularly during the years when
Andreas was