ner of her illness; and
immediately the corner was turned and the exhaustion of turning it got
over, she became fractious. "You will have a difficult time," Axel had
said on the day he spoilt their friendship; and it was true. The
difficult time began after that corner was turned, and the farther the
baroness drew away from it, the nearer she got to complete
convalescence, the more difficult did life for Anna become. For it
resumed the old course, and they all resumed their old selves, the same
old selves, even to the shadow of an unmentioned Lolli between them,
that Axel had said they would by no means get away from; but with this
difference, that the peculiarities of both Frau von Treumann and the
baroness were more pronounced than before, and that not one of the trio
would speak to either of the other two.

Frau von Treumann was still firmly fixed in the house, without the least
intention apparently of leaving it, and she spent her time lying in wait
for Anna, watching for an opportunity of beginning again about Karlchen.
Anna had avoided the inevitable day when she would be caught, but it
came at last, and she was caught in the garden, whither she had retired
to consider how best to approach the baroness, hitherto quite
unapproachable, on the burning question of Lolli.

Frau von Treumann appeared suddenly, coming softly across the grass, so
that there was no time to run away. "Anna," she called out
reproachfully, seeing Anna make a movement as though she wanted to run,
which was exactly what she did want to do, "Anna, have I the plague?"

"I hope not," said Anna.

"You treat me as if I had it."

Anna said nothing. "Why does she stay here? How can she stay here, after
what has happened?" she had wondered often. Perhaps she had come now to
announce her departure. She prepared herself therefore to listen with a
willing ear.

She was sitting in the shade of a copper beech facing the oily sea and
the coast of Ruegen quivering opposite in the heat-haze. She was not
doing anything; she never did seem to do anything, as these ladies of
the busy fingers often noticed.

"Blue and white," said Anna, looking up at the gulls and the sky to give
Frau von Treumann time, "the Pomeranian colours. I see now where they
come from."

But Frau von Treumann had not come out to talk about the Pomeranian
colours. "My Karlchen has been ill," she said, her eyes on Anna's face.

Anna watched the gulls overhead in the deep blue. "So