of my hat. Thus, madam, I am of a remarkable
independence. Its one restriction is the necessity of finding a shelter
daily before dark. Tell me, little Lot, is there no room for the old
husband here with thee?' And there was something so sweet in his smile
as he turned to her that I think if she had seen it she must have
followed him wherever he went.

But she did not raise her eyes. 'I go to Berlin this evening,' she said.
'I have important engagements, and must leave at once.'

'My dear Frau Nieberlein,' exclaimed the bishop's wife, 'is not this
very sudden?'

Brosy, who had been looking uncomfortable for some minutes quite apart
from not having got his mouse, pulled out his watch and stood up. 'If we
are to catch that steamer, mother, I think it would be wise to start,'
he said.

'Nonsense, Brosy, it doesn't go for an hour,' said Mrs. Harvey-Browne,
revolted at the notion of being torn from her celebrity in the very
moment of finding him.

'I am afraid we must,' insisted Brosy. 'It takes much longer to get down
the cliff than one would suppose. And it is slippery--I want to take you
down an easier and rather longer way.'

And he carried her off, ruthlessly cutting short her parting entreaties
that the Professor would come too, come to-morrow, then, come without
fail the next day, then, to Binz; and he took her, as I observed,
straight in the direction of the Hertha See as a beginning of the easy
descent, and the Hertha See, as everybody knows, is in the exactly
contrary direction to the one he ought to have gone; but no doubt he
filled up the hour instructively with stories of the ancient heathen
rites performed on those mystic shores, and so left Charlotte free to
behave to her husband as she chose.

How she did behave I can easily guess, for hurrying off into the
pavilion, desirous of nothing except to get out of the way, I had hardly
had time to marvel that she should be able to dislike such an old dear,
when she burst in. 'Quick, quick--help me to get my things!' she cried,
flying up and down the slit of a room and pouncing on the bags stowed
away by Gertrud in corners. 'I can just catch the night train at
Sassnitz--I'm off to Berlin--I'll write to you from there. Why, if that
fool Gertrud hasn't emptied everything out! What a terrible fate yours
is, always at the mercy of an overfed underling--a person who empties
bags without being asked. Give me those brushes--and the papers. Well,
you've seen me drag