eprecating gesture, as if she were saying: No, no, not to
him! The first ray of this hope was also the last. Her conscience struck
her; but she was helpless. Here was a feeling impervious to reason;
armed ten times over against encouragement. Anyhow, he was not at home.
She thought of this with a sigh of relief.

Would Daniel go to the Baroness? No; that could not be thought of for a
minute.

She could no longer endure the city nor the people in it. She walked
through the park out into the country. She could not stand the sight of
the sky or the distant views; she turned around. She came back to The
Fuell, entered the Carovius house, and rang Frau Benda's bell. She knew
the old lady was away, and yet, as if quite beside herself, she rang
four times. If Benda would only come; if the good friend were only
sitting in his room and could come to the door.

But there was not a stir. From the first floor the sounds of a piano
floated out the window; it was being played in full chords. Down in the
court Caesar was howling.

She started back home with beating heart. At the front gate she saw
Philippina.

"I have heard all about your misfortune," said Philippina in her shrill
voice. "Nobody can help you but me."

"You? You can help?" stammered Eleanore. The whole square began to move,
it seemed, before her.

"Word of honour--I can. I must simply have a talk with Daniel first.
Let's lose no time. Is he upstairs?"

"I think he is. If not, I will get him."

"Let's go up, then."

They went up the stairs.

XII

Jason Philip had been invited to a sociable evening in the Shufflers'
Club. He was now enjoying his siesta after his banquet by reading an
editorial in the _Kurier_. One of Bismarck's addresses had been so
humorously commented on that every now and then Jason Philip emitted a
malevolent snarl of applause.

He had brought a lemon along home with him; it was lying on a plate
before him, sliced and covered with sugar. From time to time he would
reach over, take a piece and stick it in his mouth. He smacked his
tongue with the display of much ceremony of his kind, and licked his
lips after swallowing a piece. His two sons gaped at his hand with
greedy eyes and likewise licked their lips.

Willibald was groaning over an algebraic equation. In his pale, pimpled
face were traces of incapability and bad humour. Markus, owing to his
physical defect, was not allowed to study by artif