ords: "Paula," and "Paula, Mary's darling," in large
capital letters. Now and again a butterfly, following the motion of
the rod, brought a smile to her pretty little face from which the dark
spirit "Trouble" had not wholly succeeded in banishing gladness. Still,
her heart was heavy. Everything around her, in the garden and in the
house, was still; for her grandfather's state had become seriously worse
at sunrise, and every sound must be hushed. Mary was thinking of the
poor sufferer: what pain he had to bear, and how the parting from Paula
would grieve him, when Katharina came towards her down the path.

The young girl did little credit to-day to her nickname of "the
water-wagtail;" her little feet shuffled through the shelly gravel, her
head hung wearily, and when one of the myriad insects, that were busy
in the morning sunshine, came within her reach she beat it away angrily
with her fan. As she came up to Mary she greeted her with the usual "All
hail!" but the child only nodded in response, and half turning her back
went on with her inscription.

Katharina, however, paid no heed to this cool reception, but said in
sympathetic tones:

"Your poor grandfather is not so well, I hear?" Mary shrugged her
shoulders.

"They say he is very dangerously ill. I saw Philippus himself."

"Indeed?" said Mary without looking up, and she went on writing.

"Orion is with him," Katharina went on. "And Paula is really going
away?"

The child nodded dumbly, and her eyes again filled with tears.

Katharina now observed how sad the little girl was looking, and that
she intentionally refused to answer her. At any other time she would not
have troubled herself about this, but to-day this taciturnity provoked
her, nay it really worried her; she stood straight in front of Mary, who
was still indefatigably busy with the ruler, and said loudly and with
some irritation:

"I have fallen into disgrace with you, it would seem, since yesterday.
Every one to his liking; but I will not put up with such bad manners, I
can tell you!"

The last words were spoken loud enough to wake Eudoxia, who heard them,
and drawing herself up with dignity she said severely:

"Is that the way to behave to a kind and welcome visitor, Mary?"

"I do not see one," retorted the child with a determined pout.

"But I do," cried the governess. "You are behaving like a little
barbarian, not like a little girl who has been taught Greek manners.
Katharina is no lo