for twenty years in the fields till it is paid for."

Salo's eyes had become sunny again during this speech. He looked as if
he would not have minded seizing a hoe that very moment.

Rapid steps were now heard approaching, the door was quickly opened, and
Miss Remke called out on entering: "The carriage is at the door. Let us
get ready, for I do not want the gentleman to wait. I am sure you will
be so kind as to help me lift Leonore out of bed and to carry her down
stairs."

Leonore had grown as white as a sheet from fright.

"May I ask if it is my brother's carriage, or--" Mrs. Maxa hesitated a
little.

"Yes, certainly," the lady interrupted, while she rapidly pulled some
covers and shawls out of a wardrobe. "Your brother has come himself in
order to see that the carriage is well protected. He also means to give
the coachman the directions himself, but we must not keep him waiting.
What a kind friend he is!"

Mrs. Maxa had already lifted Leonore from her bed and was carrying her
out.

"Please bring all the necessary things downstairs. I can do this easily
alone, for she is as light as a feather," she called back to the lady who
had hastened after her in order to help.

Going downstairs Mrs Maxa said, "Leonore, I am going to take you home
with me now. The doctor is letting me do what I wished: you will stay
with me till you are well again, and I shall take care of you. Shall you
like to come with me? We know each other a little already and I hope you
won't feel so strange with us."

Leonore, flinging both arms about Mrs. Maxa's neck, held her so tight
that she could feel the little girl considered her no stranger any
longer.

Suddenly Leonore called back in jubilating tones, "Salo, Salo, did you
hear?"

Salo had heard her call but comprehended nothing further. Miss Remke had
piled such heaps of shawls and covers on his arms that one always slid
down after the other and he was obliged to pick them up again. As
quickly as the circumstances allowed, he ran after his sister.

Arrived at the carriage, Mrs. Maxa immediately looked about for her
brother. She wanted to hand Leonore to him while she prepared everything
in the conveyance for the child's comfort.

He was already there. Understanding his sister's sign, he took the child
into his arms, then lifted her gently into the carriage. His glance was
suddenly arrested by the boy, who was standing beside the carriage with
his burdens.

With the most joyful