twenty-seven years old, and that she had rejected all her suitors, a
fact which was causing her parents a measure of concern. "She simply
will not be contented," said Frau Agatha. "She is bent on securing a
special mission in her marriage, and fears nothing so much as the loss
of her personal liberty. That is the way our children are, dear
Siegmund; and if we had brought them into the world differently, they
would be different. In our day the ideal was obedience; but now children
have discovered the duty they owe themselves."

"Then they should look out for themselves," replied the Baron gloomily.
He had fully appreciated what his sister-in-law was driving at.

From the confused and incoherent remarks of her sister, Agatha had
learned what had taken place between the Baron and the Baroness. She was
familiar with the painful past; and when she looked into the old Baron's
eyes, she saw what was necessary. She made up her mind then and there to
have Eberhard meet his mother.

She wished above everything else to quiet Clotilda and persuade her to
return home. The task, owing to the weakness and instability of the
Baroness, was not difficult. Sylvia remained with her aunt, and her
quiet, resolute disposition had a wholesome effect upon her. In the
meantime Agatha had got Eberhard's address. After some search she found
the house: Eberhard was at home.

IV

The first talk she had with him passed off without results of any kind.
He evaded her courageous remarks, and failed to hear what he did not
care to hear. He was stiff, polite, and annoyingly listless. Agatha,
full of vexation, told her daughter of her disappointment. Sylvia said
she would like to go with her mother the next time she visited Eberhard.
Agatha shook her head, though she was in no way minded to abandon her
purpose.

There was no change at the Baron's house. Baroness Clotilda was in a
perpetual state of nervous excitement that was anything but reassuring
either to herself or those about her. The Baron was a disquieting riddle
to the entire household: he never left his room; he paced up and down
hours at a time, with his hands folded across his back.

Agatha called on her nephew a second, a third, a fourth time. Even
though Eberhard's Arctic impenetrability seemed made for all time,
though yielding seemed to be no part of his nature, she finally
succeeded in jolting him loose from his bearings. And when Sylvia
accompan