be busy with something that was not there.
"Go," he said, "or stay, if you like!" And then he began to stroke the
cat, which was not there.

"Father," said the girl, "what's the matter with you? What kind of a
joke is this? The cat isn't there."

"You goose," said Herr Rauchfuss, "have you got a hole in your eyes big
enough for the cat to get through?" He stood up and pretended to be
playing with the invisible cat. "There ... What? You'd bite, would you?
That's something new! Like a dog ... the beast!" His face took on a
dull red, and the veins in his temples stood out. He gave a kick.
"There--that'll teach her a lesson! Such a brute was never nailed up to
a barn door!"

He sat down again as if satisfied, breathing heavily. He looked ill.
Now he had grown quite pale, with a bluish tint under the eyes, and his
glance was expressionless. The child would have called the housekeeper,
but she was afraid to stir from her place, and began to cry bitterly.
Herr Rauchfuss broke out again: "There ...! It's back again--don't you
see it?" he cried angrily. "Open your eyes!" He stared stonily in front
of him. "There's no doing anything with a beast like that. Out you go!"
And he made as if to thrust it away with his foot.

All at once a tender mood came over him. "Tubby," he said in a weary
voice, "you've got to be a good girl ... What do you suppose it costs
me to see to it that you are? To bring up a motherless child is no easy
job for an old sinner. Go, child, brew me a grog, a fine one ... an
infernally fine one ... that'll do me good!"

Such remarkable scenes as this took place now more frequently. In
between there were calm days, on which Herr Rauchfuss did not seem to
be feeling particularly well. Sometimes he would eat nothing all day,
and was out of humor and dull.

On a fine summer afternoon Frau Marianne, the young widow, came
wandering up to the Ettersberg through the swelling fields, and asked
for Mamsell Beate Rauchfuss, whom she found in the garden. The child
was lying asleep on the lawn that was used for bleaching, and did not
wake when the stranger approached her.

"Queer," thought the young widow, "to lie and sleep like that! What
does the girl do with herself, I wonder, the whole day long?" She
looked at the auburn hair that was wound in a great coil around the
head, the tender face, the small well-cut nose, the mouth that seemed
to be a compound of strength and sorrow, the young body in a short pink
dre