mind.
Can't you make her understand that it isn't right always to be going over
and over such a thing and that she ought to forget it? It couldn't be
worse if she had lost a boy of her own. I want to tell you, Doctor von
Kammacher, Rosa and I are engaged to be married."

"You are certainly to be congratulated, Mr. Bulke. I am delighted to hear
it."

"As soon as I can get away from Mr. Stoss and Rosa can get away from Mrs.
Liebling, we are going back to Europe. Before I entered the navy, I was a
skilled butcher. My brother in Bremen wrote to me that there was a little
meat and sausage and steamer supply business to be had there. We both
have some money saved up. So why shouldn't we try it? You can't go on
working for strangers forever."

"I quite agree with you," said Frederick.

The marksman's valet held out his hand to Rosa, whispered "Mrs.
Liebling's coming," and left. The same instant Ella ran off calling,
"Mamma."

Mrs. Liebling was coming through the park, walking beside a gentleman.
From her costume, befitting the wife of a Russian prince of the royal
house, it was evident that she had already found the opportunity to
replace her wardrobe. Frederick shook hands with her and remembered the
mole under her left breast and several other marks on the lovely body,
which he had so ruthlessly worked like a machine to restore the breath
to it.

She introduced him to her companion, a dark, thick-set, elegantly dressed
man, who eyed Frederick with a suspicious, repellent expression.

"Curious," thought Frederick. "This microcephalous creature thinks I am
his enemy, whereas he ought to know what he owes me. There I toiled and
travailed and sweated to raise the dead. I considered myself a highly
moral instrument of Providence, and after all, I was working for nothing
but the pleasure of a sleek, consequential Don Juan."

Mrs. Liebling, who had already been in Boston and Washington, was
perfectly delighted with America.

"What do you think of the New York hotels? I am living at the Waldorf.
Aren't they magnificent? I have four rooms in the front. Such quiet,
such luxury, such beautiful pictures! You feel as if you were in the
Arabian Nights. Doctor von Kammacher, you positively must go to
Delmonico's. What has Berlin, or even Paris, to compare with it? You
can't find a restaurant like Delmonico's or hotels like New York hotels
in Europe."

"Possibly," said Frederick, quite dazed.

"Have you been in the Metropoli