eople were not generally so nice in their housekeeping as
she was, and, referring to Sonnenkamp, said that there is such a thing
as a zone of mind, or whatever else you may choose to call it, which
furnishes organizations entirely exotic, but which nevertheless have
their natural conditions, as our customary, everyday ones have. The
constant solitary speculation and refining of thought, the recurring to
her life with her husband, there thoroughly deep-seated melancholy of
the noble woman showed itself in an increased sensitiveness and
irritability; and it had reached such a point that fears were
entertained for her life; something might occur which would be the
occasion of suddenly extinguishing this flickering flame of life.

Eric, Manna, and Roland, trembling and apprehensive, surrounded the
Mother with constant care, and in this anxiety for another, there was a
great deliverance for themselves. The Doctor once said in the library
to Eric:--

"If your mother had become sick on purpose, it would have been one of
the wisest things she could have done; for it helps you all to get
possession of yourselves."

Sonnenkamp also expressed profound sympathy, but he felt provoked; it
is not now the time for sickness, every one must now stand erect so as
to bear up under the storm. After some days, however, he found the
Professorin's illness very opportune; it took some time to get
accustomed to the new order of things; he even admitted to himself
directly, that he would not regret it much if the Professorin should
die; that would produce a change of feeling, and in the mean while
everything was getting better very fast.

Fraeulein Milch did not suffer Manna to devote herself entirely to the
Professorin as she wished to do, and she herself was the best of
nurses.

The Major went about in utter desolation. More than any one else, not
even excepting the children, he was the most deeply affected, perhaps,
by the disclosure of Sonnenkamp's past life.

"The world is right; that is, Fraeulein Milch is right," he was all the
time saying. "She has told me all along that I don't know men, and
she's right."

In the mean while, he found a good place of refuge; he went to see
Weidmann, at Mattenheim, for a couple of days.

CHAPTER XVI.

A BLACK WAVE.

On Sunday evening a bustling crowd was streaming along the white road,
up and down the banks of the river, and to