How could any soul approach another soul through a network
of lies? And then more painful still--she confessed with shame that it
was more painful to her even than the lies--Frau von Treumann evidently
took her for a fool. Not merely for a person wanting in intelligence, or
slow-witted, but for a downright fool. She must think so, or she would
have taken more pains, at least some pains, to make her schemes a little
less transparent. Anna hated herself for feeling mortified by this; but
mortified she certainly was. Even a philosopher does not like to be
honestly mistaken during an entire fortnight for a fool. Though he may
smile, he will almost surely wince. Not being a philosopher, Anna winced
and did not smile.

"I think," she said to Manske, when he came in one morning with a list
of selected applications, "I think we will wait a little before choosing
the other nine."

"The gracious one is not weary of well-doing?" he asked quickly.

"Oh no, not at all; I like well-doing," Anna said rather lamely, "but it
is not quite--not quite as simple as it looks."

"I have found nine most deserving cases," he urged, "and later there may
not be----"

"No, no," interrupted Anna, "we will wait. In the autumn, perhaps--not
now. First I must make the ones who are here happy. You know," she said,
smiling, "they came here to be made happy."

"Yes, truly I know it. And happy indeed must they be in this home,
surrounded by all that makes life fair and desirable."

"One would think so," said Anna, musing. "It is pretty here, isn't
it--it should be easy to be happy here,--yet I am not sure that they
are."

"Not sure----?" Manske looked at her, startled.

"What do people--most people, ordinary people, need, to make them
happy?" she asked wistfully. She was speaking to herself more than to
him, and did not expect any very illuminating answer.

"The fear of the Lord," he replied promptly; which put an end to the
conversation.

But besides her perplexities about the Chosen, Anna had other worries.
Dellwig had received the refusal to let him build the brick-kiln with
such insolence, and had, in his anger, said such extraordinary things
about Axel Lohm, that Anna had blazed out too, and had told him he must
go. It had been an unpleasant scene, and she had come out from it white
and trembling. She had intended to ask Axel to do the dismissing for her
if she should ever definitely decide to send him away; but she had been
overwhelmed