lowly.

"It is," said Klutz.

"Why have you got it?"

"Why indeed! It's mine. She sent it to me. She wrote it for me. These
flowers----"

"Miss Estcourt? Sent it to you? Poetry? To _you_?" Dellwig looked up
from the paper at Klutz, and examined him slowly from head to foot as if
he had never seen him before. His expression while he did it was not
flattering, but Klutz rarely noticed expressions. "What's it all about?"
he asked, when he had reached Klutz's boots, by which he seemed struck,
for he looked at them twice.

"Love," said Klutz proudly.

"Love?"

"Let me come home with you," said Klutz eagerly, "I'll translate it
there. I can't here where we might be disturbed."

"Come on, then," said Dellwig, walking off at a great pace with the
paper in his hand.

Just as they were turning into the farmyard the rattle of a carriage was
heard coming down the road. "Stop," said Dellwig, laying his hand on
Klutz's arm, "the _Herrschaften_ have been drinking coffee in the
woods--here they are, coming home. You can get a greeting if you wait."

They both stood on the edge of the road, and the carriage with Anna and
a selection from her house-party drove by. Dellwig and Klutz swept off
their hats. When Anna saw Klutz she turned scarlet--undeniably,
unmistakably scarlet--and looked away quickly. Dellwig's lips shaped
themselves into a whistle. "Come in, then," he said, glancing at Klutz,
"come in and translate your poem."

Seldom had Klutz passed more delicious moments than those in which he
rendered Letty's verses into German, with both the Dellwigs drinking in
his words. The proud and exclusive Dellwigs! A month ago such a thing
would have been too wild a flight of fancy for the most ambitious dream.
In the very room in which he had been thrust aside at parties, forgotten
in corners, left behind when the others went in to supper, he was now
sitting the centre of interest, with his former supercilious hosts
hanging on his words. When he had done, had all too soon come to the end
of his delightful task, he looked round at them triumphantly; and his
triumph was immediately dashed out of him by Dellwig, who said with his
harshest laugh, "Put aside all your hopes, young man--Miss Estcourt is
engaged to Herr von Lohm."

"Engaged? To Herr von Lohm?" Klutz echoed stupidly, his mouth open and
the hand holding the verses dropping limply to his side.

"Engaged, engaged, engaged," Dellwig repeated in a loud sing-song, "not
o