an, entered to receive their commands, which he attended to in
person. Everything was done silently; not even the plates and glasses
rattled as they were placed on the-table; and when all was prepared,
the man left the room, not attempting, after the manner of hosts in
general, to enter into conversation with his guests, or to ply them
with questions as to whence they came, whither they were going, etc.

The lady, a very remarkable-looking woman, was apparently the mother of
the three others, but seemed young to be the parent of the eldest, who
had evidently numbered thirty years.

The breakfast, which was excellent and well served, was quickly
disposed of; and dinner being ordered for two o'clock, the little party
left the house. On the street, the same stillness, the same absence of
people prevailed as elsewhere.

"Do you know the way to the Sisters' house, mother?" asked the young
man of the lady as they led the way, the two younger ones following
behind.

"Of course, Alexander," she replied. "I was here once, some years ago,
on a visit to President von Karsdorf, and I can perfectly remember how
full of interest the whole place was, and how pleased the Karsdorfs
were to think they could end their lives in this peaceful, quiet spot."

"Such extraordinary order and cleanliness seems almost like a matter of
pride and show on the part of these humble people--as if the inner
purity of their souls must needs be manifested in this extreme, outward
neatness," said the gentleman, laughing.

"You are prejudiced against the Moravian character, I know, and yet
there is so much that is good in them!" argued the lady.

"That may well be so, mother. I am willing to acknowledge all their
good qualities," said her son; "but these numerous forms which intrude
themselves upon every occasion seem like fetters and bonds to free
souls. So much unnatural restraint and parade of sanctity is offensive
to me. I never could tolerate hypocrites, and such they surely must
be, although, of course, they would be shocked at the idea; for under
all this excessive humility, this parade of piety, I venture to say
there lies much concealed of which we do not dream. One can imagine
how much Herr von Karsdorf, an old epicure and man of the world, must
have dissimulated to conform himself to the manners of this community,
to be allowed to end his days here."

His mother shook her head. "I think," she said, "that the subdued,
pious bearing