eir mother.

Now the two boys started off at such a rate that no one else could keep
up with them, so the mother appointed Leonore and Mea as guides, and
herself followed with Maezli. She firmly held the little girl's hand, for
there was no telling what she might undertake otherwise, and the less
independent Lippo held his mother's other hand, so that the two older
brothers were obliged to accommodate their steps to the rest. But Kurt,
simply bursting with impatience, dashed ahead once, only to drop behind
again; later on he would appear from behind a hedge. Lippo simply could
not stand such disorder, and to even up the pairs he took Bruno's hand.
When they reached the familiar iron-grated door at last, to their
surprise both wings of it were thrown open.

Mr. Trius, with his hat lowered to the ground, stood at his post to
receive them. Shining silver buttons set off a coat which plainly
belonged to his gala suit. Kurt was so completely confounded by this
reception that he quickly fell into line with the rest, and the
procession proceeded. The first thing they saw on the terrace was a long
festive table with garlands of ivy and flowers. Apollonie soon after
appeared in a beautiful silk gown the Baroness had given her, and her
measured movements made the occasion seem extremely solemn. She had, to
all appearance, become "Castle Apollonie" again. Loneli, wearing a
pretty dress and carrying a huge bouquet of flowers, stepped up to
Leonore. Then she handed her the flowers and recited in a clear,
impressive voice the following words which Apollonie had composed
herself:

"Thrice welcome to this home of thine,
Lady of Castle Wildenstein."

Leonore, rigid with surprise, first stared at Loneli, then looked at the
mother.

Mrs. Maxa took Leonore's hand and led her to the Baron, who had
smilingly surveyed the scene.

"I think that her uncle is going to make his little niece a speech at
last," Mrs. Maxa said, placing Leonore's hand in her uncle's. Like a
flash comprehension dawned on Leonore.

"Dear uncle, dear uncle!" she cried out, embracing him tenderly. "Is it
really true that you are my uncle? Is this wonderful thing really true?"

"Yes, child, I am the uncle you longed to love like a father," said the
Baron. "I want to be your father and I hope you can love me a little.
Will you mind living with me, Leonore?"

"Oh, dear, dear uncle," Leonore repeated with renewed signs of warm
affection. "It is not very har