fferent about the sacrifice which
the little European had made to her. She received it, it is true, but
she soon laid it down again without caring any more about it, which
occasioned Louise to propose that she should keep it for her.

In the midst of these little occurrences the Assessor came in. He looked
with an inquisitive glance round the room, showed his white teeth, and
said to himself, "Yes, it's all right; it is what I expected. So,
indeed," added he aloud, in his angry manner, whilst he cordially shook
the hand of his friend, "I see you thought you had not children enough
of your own in the house, but you must drag in those of other people!
How many do you mean to burden yourselves with? Will there not be
another to-morrow? Were you not satisfied with a whole half-dozen girls
of your own? And what will become of them? One shall presently not be
able to get into the house for children! I suppose that you have such a
superfluity of money and property, that you must go and squander it on
others! Nay! good luck to you!--good luck to you!"

The Judge and his wife replied only by smiles to the grumbling of their
friend, and by the request that he would spend the evening with them.
But he said he had not time; and then, after he had laid large pears,
which he took from his pocket, under the napkins on the children's
plates, he went out.

Every one of those pears had its own distinctive sign: round Sara's was
a gold-coloured ribbon; and upon her plate, under the pear, was found a
bank-note of considerable value. It was his gift to the fatherless, yet
he never would acknowledge it. That was his way.

As the mother took Sara by the hand, in order to conduct her to rest,
Petrea had the indescribable delight of seeing that, from all the little
presents which had been made to her, she only took with her the girl and
the rose-bush, which she appeared to regard with pleasure.

Sara was seized with violent grief in the comfortable bedroom; tears
streamed with wonderful violence from her eyes, and she called loudly
for her father. Elise held her quietly in her arms, and let her weep out
her grief on her bosom, and then gently undressing her, and laying the
weary child in bed, had the pleasure of feeling how affectionately she
clasped her arms around her neck.

The girl and the rose-bush hung over her bed, but still there seemed to
be no rest on the snow-white couch for the "little African." Her dark
eyes glanced wildly ab