rs.
Maxa shook her head.

Going up the stairs, she decided first of all to go to the Baron's rooms,
for she wondered what care he was receiving. Rigid with consternation,
she stopped under the doorway. What a room it was! Not the tiniest
picture was on the wall and not a single small rug lay on the uneven
boards. Nothing but an empty bedstead, an old wicker chair and a table
which had plainly been dragged there from the servants' quarters,
comprised the furniture. Mrs. Maxa looked again to make sure that it
was really the Baron's room. There was no doubt of it, it was the
balcony room in the tower. Where did the Baron sleep?

As the sight proved more than she could bear, she quickly sought the late
Baroness' chamber. Here, too, everything was empty and the red
plush-covered chairs and the sofa in the corner over which all the
pictures of the children used to hang were gone. Only an empty bedstead
stood in the corner.

Mrs. Maxa went next to Leonore's room, which used to be extremely
pretty. Lovely pictures used to hang on the walls, chairs covered in
light blue silk were standing about, a half-rounded bed was placed in a
corner, and she remembered the dearest little desk on which two flower
vases, always filled with fresh roses, used to stand. Mrs. Maxa did not
even go in this time, it was too horribly forlorn. The only thing which
still spoke of old times was the wallpaper with the tiny red and blue
flowers. She quickly went out. Throwing a single glance at the large
ball-room, she likened it to a dreary desert. Not a curtain, not a chair
or painting could be seen. Where could all the valuable damask-covered
furniture have gone to? Was it possible that the castle had been robbed
and no one knew of it?

It was probable, however, that Mr. Trius did not know about anything,
and it was plain that the Baron himself had not troubled about these
things. Mrs. Maxa hurriedly went back to him.

"To what a dreary home you have come back, my poor friend!" she cried
out, "and I know that your mother never wished you to find it like this.
How unhappy you must have felt when you entered these walls after so many
years! You cannot help feeling miserable here, and it is all quite
incomprehensible to me."

"Not to me," the Baron quietly replied; "I somehow felt it had to be that
way. Did I value my home before? It is a just retribution to me to find
the place so empty and forlorn. I only returned to die here and I can
await deat