meadows, and the gardens out by the city
fortress, where an old gardener went with her and picked out the
choicest specimens for her. He had a crippled son who fell in love with
Eleanore and always stood in the door and smiled at her when she came.
He promised he would get her flowers from the green house during the
winter.

The butcher was paid, the baker was paid; the druggist was paid, and so
was the rent. Philippina shook her head, and swore there was something
wrong. She was convinced that it would all come out some day, even if
you had to scratch the dung hill to get at the secret. She told the
people about a ghost that carried on every night up in the attic; and
once when the moon was shining she came running into the room and swore
that a bony finger had rapped on the window.

Eleanore bound roses and gilliflowers, tulips and pansies, mosses,
ferns, and what-not into beautiful tapestried pictures, or wound them
into wreaths and garlands. She gave herself up to this novel occupation
with the sacrificial love of a woman of her type; and at times she
became dizzy from so much fragrance. But this mattered not. She arranged
her flowers; and then she would lean out of the window, and sing gently
into the night.

Daniel was ignorant of what she was doing; he had not troubled himself
about the distressing poverty of past weeks; he did not concern himself
now with their abundance; where it came from he never asked.

VIII

Eberhard von Auffenberg had returned to the city shortly after the death
of Gertrude Nothafft. The last large sum he had received from Herr
Carovius, now nearly a year ago, he had almost used up. He found Herr
Carovius quite changed in his attitude toward him. Herr Carovius
declared that he was bankrupt, that he could not get any more money for
him. Instead of complaining or boasting, or flattering his princely
friend, or trying to incite him to activity of some kind, as he had been
accustomed to do, he wrapped himself in a silence that could not be
regarded as a favourable omen.

Eberhard had no desire to beg. Herr Carovius's personality was so
disagreeable to him that he refused to investigate the cause of his
novel behaviour. He let his thoughts take their own course; and they
drifted into other channels.

The gossip afloat concerning Eleanore had naturally reached his ears.
Herr Carovius had seen to it that there was no lack of insinuations,
either writte