cceed, you will have
walked in clear ways."

Her mother felt that she was trembling; but her voice did not
tremble--beyond that pathetic thrill in it which was always there when
she was deeply moved.

"I have to beg your pardon, sir," she said, addressing herself more
particularly to Von Zoesch, but scarcely daring to lift her eyes.
"But--but do not think that, when you have made everything smooth for a
woman's happiness, she can then think only of herself. She also may
think a little about others; and even with those who are nearest and
dearest to her, how can she bear to know that perhaps they may be
engaged in something dark and hidden, something terrible--not because it
involves danger but because it involves shame? Gentlemen, if you choose,
you can do this. I appeal to you. I implore you. If you do not seek the
co-operation of women--well, that is a light matter; you have our
sympathy and love and gratitude--at least you can pursue ways and means
of which women can approve; ways and means of which no one, man or
woman, needs be ashamed. How otherwise are you what you profess to
be--the lovers of what is just and true and merciful?"

She sat down, still all trembling. She held her mother's hand. There was
a murmur of sympathy and admiration.

Brand turned to Von Zoesch, and said, in a low voice,

"You hear, sir? These are the representations I had wished to lay before
the Council. I have not a word to add."

"We will consider by-and-by," said Von Zoesch, rising. "It is not a
great matter. Come to me in Genoa as you pass through."

But the tall old gentleman with the long white hair had already risen
and gone round to where the girl sat, and put his hand on her shoulder.

"My noble child, you have spoken well," said he, in a quavering, feeble
voice, "Forgive me that I come so near; my eyes are very weak now; and
you--you do not recognize me any more?"

"Anton!" said the mother.

"Child," said he, still addressing Natalie, "it is old Anton Pepczinski
who is speaking to you. But you are disturbed; and I have greatly
changed, no doubt. No matter. I have travelled a long way to bring you
my blessing, and I give it to you now: I shall not see you again in this
world. You were always brave and good; be that to the end; God has given
you a noble soul."

She looked up, and something in her face told him that she had
recognized him, despite the changes time had made.

"Yes, yes," he said, in great delight; "you