the house in the Egidien Platz,
seeking advice. "Gone again, is she?" said Herr Molk, holding up his
hand. "And that fellow is with her of course?"

"No, no, no!" exclaimed Madame Staubach.

"Are you sure of that! At any rate she must marry him now, for nobody
else will take her. Peter won't bite again at that bait." Then Madame
Staubach was compelled to explain that all ideas of matrimony in
respect to her niece must be laid aside, and she was driven also
to confess that she had persevered too long in regard to Peter
Steinmarc. "He certainly is a little rusty for such a young woman
as Linda," said Herr Molk, confessing also his part of the fault.
At last he counselled Madame Staubach that she could do nothing
but follow her niece to Cologne, as she had before followed her to
Augsburg. Such a journey would be very terrible to her. She had not
been in Cologne for years, and did not wish to see again those who
were there. But she felt that she had no alternative, and she went.

CHAPTER XVII

For very many years no connection had been maintained between the two
women who lived together in Nuremberg, and their nearest relative,
who was a half-brother of Madame Staubach's, a lawyer, living in
Cologne. This uncle of Linda's was a Roman Catholic, and had on this
account been shunned by Madame Staubach. Some slight intercourse
there had been on matters of business, and thus it had come to pass
that Linda knew the address of her uncle. But this was all that she
knew, and knowing this only, she had started for Cologne. The reader
will hardly require to be told that she had not gone in company with
him who a few weeks since had been her lover. The reader, perhaps,
will have understood Linda's character so thoroughly as to be
convinced that, though she had submitted to be dragged out of her
window by her lover, and carried away to Augsburg in the night,
still it was not probable that she should again be guilty of such
indiscretion as that. The lesson had not been in vain. If there be
any reader who does not know Linda's character better than it was
known to Herr Molk, or even to Tetchen, this story has been told
in vain. All alone she started, and all alone she made the entire
journey. Long as it was, there was no rest for her on the way. She
went by a cheap and slow train, and on she went through the long day
and the long night, and on through the long day again. She did not
suffer with the cold as she had suffered on