e squeeze, and the face
remained buried in the handkerchief. Well, it would be absurd to want to
cut off the son entirely from his mother. If he came occasionally to see
her it could not matter much. She gave the hand a firmer squeeze, and
said with an effort that she did her best to conceal, "But he must come
then, when he can. It is rather a long way--didn't you say you had to
stay a night in Berlin?"

"Oh, my dear Miss Estcourt--my dear Anna!" cried Frau von Treumann,
snatching the handkerchief from her face and seizing Anna's hand in both
hers, "what a weight from my heart--what a heavy, heavy weight! All
night I was thinking how shall I bear this? I may write to him, then,
and tell him what you say? A long journey? You are afraid it will tire
him? Oh, it will be nothing, nothing at all to Karlchen if only he can
see his mother. How can I thank you! You will say my gratitude is
excessive for such a little thing, and truly only a mother could
understand it----"

In short, Karlchen's appearance at Kleinwalde was now only a matter of
days.

"_Unverschaemt_," was the baroness's mental comment.

CHAPTER XIX

Anna put on her hat and went out to think it over. Fraeulein Kuhraeuber
was apparently still asleep. Letty, accompanied by Miss Leech, had to go
to Lohm parsonage for her first lesson with Herr Klutz, who had
undertaken to teach her German. Frau von Treumann said she must write at
once to Karlchen, and shut herself up to do it. The baroness was vague
as to her intentions, and disappeared. So Anna started off by herself,
crossed the road, and walked quickly away into the forest. "If it makes
her so happy, then I am glad," she said to herself. "She is here to be
happy; and if she wants Karlchen so badly, why then she must have him
from time to time. I wonder why I don't like Karlchen."

She walked quickly, with her eyes on the ground. The mood in which she
sang magnificats had left her, nor did she look to see what the April
morning was doing. Frau von Treumann had not been under her roof
twenty-four hours, and already her son had been added--if only
occasionally, still undoubtedly added--to the party. Suppose the
baroness and Fraeulein Kuhraeuber should severally disclose an inability
to live without being visited by some cherished relative? Suppose the
other nine, the still Unchosen, should each turn out to have a relative
waiting tragically in the background for permission to make repeated
calls? And