as by a festal illumination. Egon von Hohenlicht was
making the professor's daughters laugh, always simultaneously. Moritz
was walking about with Marion between the beds of stocks, and they were
speaking of Billy. Even little Miss Demme and the stately Hanoverian
were standing together a little to one side and whispering. Lisa had
had the reclining chair carried out to the grass-plot under the
pear-tree. There she lay motionless, as if she feared a movement might
disarrange the lovely ruddy light that floated over her. Lieutenant von
Rabitow had stretched out on the turf at her feet.

"Oh, how beautiful that is," said Lisa with a softly plaintive melody
in her voice, "seeing it thus, one would not believe that there is so
much pain on this earth too."

"Quite right," remarked the lieutenant, "but we must not think of that.
When I have taken my bath in the evening and finished my toilet, and go
down into the street,--the restaurants are prettily lighted, and when I
turn a corner sharply I bump into dear little giggling girls, and then
I reflect a little and ask myself where I am going--why, then I drive
out of my own head the thought of being on duty tomorrow, with
recruits, et cetera."

"I believe you are happy, Lieutenant von Rabitow," said Lisa softly.

On the veranda, again, Countess Betty and Madame Bonnechose were
sitting together, folding their hands in their laps and saying
reverently, "_Ah, la jeunesse, la chere jeunesse._"

Only the two children were dissatisfied. Bob and Erika stood on the
garden-walk, grumbling because there was no prospect of some amusement:
a walk, or a general game.

"If all of them never do anything but get engaged," said Bob, "then of
course there's nothing doing. Boris takes possession of Billy as if she
was Poland."

"That won't do him any good," remarked Erika, "papa is against the
marriage, I know he is."

The sun had set. From the forest and across the meadows came a damp
breath that shook the branches of the old fruit-trees. Monotonous and
plaintive was the singing of the peasant-girls walking down the dusky
country-road.

Bob had achieved his general game. One person stood by a tree and
counted, the others hid. Billy ran over to the dense barberry-bush.
There it was dark, and one smelled the boards of an old wooden box that
stood there, garden loam, and the sourish barberries. Billy was a
little breathless, her heart beat so violently, she heard it beat: it
sounded lik