dead. The unrest that entered into the quiet little house on the
left-hand side of the Frauengasse had made its way across a thousand
thresholds, of Arab tent and imperial palace alike. The lives of
millions were affected by it, the secret hopes of thousands were
undermined by it. It disturbed the sleep of half the world, and made men
old before their time.

"More troops must have arrived," said Desiree, already busying herself
to set the house in order, "since they have been forced to billet this
man with us. And now they have sent for Charles, though he is really on
leave of absence."

She glanced at the clock.

"I hope he will not be late. The chaise is to come at four o'clock.
There is still time for me to help you."

Mathilde made no answer. Their father stood near the window. He was
looking out with thoughtful eyes. His face was drawn downwards by a
hundred fine wrinkles. It was the face of one brooding over a sorrow
or a vengeance. There was something in his whole being suggestive of a
bygone prosperity. This was a lean man who had once been well-seeming.

"No!" said Desiree gaily, "we were a dull company. We need not disguise
it. It all came from that man crossing our path in his dusty carriage."

"He is on his way to Russia," Sebastian said jerkily. "God spare me to
see him return!"

Desiree and Mathilde exchanged a glance of uneasiness. It seemed that
their father was subject to certain humours which they had reason to
dread. Desiree left her occupation and went to him, linking her arm in
his and standing beside him.

"Do not let us think of disagreeable things to-day," she said. "God will
spare you much longer than that, you depressing old wedding-guest!"

He patted her hand which rested on his arm and looked down at her with
eyes softened by affection. But her fair hair, rather tumbled, which met
his glance must have awakened some memory that made his face a marble
mask again.

"Yes," he said grimly, "but I am an old man and he is a young one. And I
want to see him dead before I die."

"I will not have you think such bloodthirsty thoughts on my
wedding-day," said Desiree. "See, there is Charles returning already,
and he has not been absent ten minutes. He has some one with him--who is
it? Papa... Mathilde, look! Who is it coming back with Charles in such a
hurry?"

Mathilde, who was setting the room in order, glanced through the lace
curtains.

"I do not know," she answered indifferently. "J