a devilish laugh, and I'll never forget it--and your
father said: 'Speak, Bruno.' Then he said: 'Father, don't be
ridiculous,' and your father's face changed as suddenly as if he had
grown thirty years older in that one minute. He could hardly stand, and
sat down on a chair. 'What do you say?' he asked. 'Repeat it once more!
Speak!' And Bruno repeated his words, twisting his mustache while he
spoke. Your father tried to persuade him, and told him that he'd teach
me, that I should learn to read, and write, and do everything else, as
well as any countess, and that Bruno had better not take a load upon
his conscience which he'd never get rid of as long as he lived. And
Bruno answered: 'If you don't send that girl away, I'll leave the room.
Go, Esther. Leave the room, and don't come again till I send for you.'
He said something to your father, in a language I didn't understand.
Your father grew pale, came up to me, gave me his hand, and said: 'Go,
Esther.' He didn't say another word, but that he said kindly. And so I
went away. That was the last time I ever saw Bruno. I heard, afterward,
that there had been terrible goings on between your father and him,
but I kept out of sight, after that. I didn't want to be the cause of
ill-feeling between father and son; I saw that it wouldn't do. Our
child meant kindly toward us, for it was born dead. That was far better
than to find only misery in the world, and die at last. Don't you think
so, too?"

Irma did not answer, but she felt for Esther's hand.

Esther continued:

"Mother and Thomas don't know that I ever knew your brother. But Thomas
is a terrible fellow, and he hates your brother just as if he had a
notion of it; but I don't say a word. I'm lost; but what does it
matter? There's no need of his being ruined too. Oh! how I loved him. I
can't forget it, even now."

Esther, who had, thus far, told her story in a calm and quiet tone,
suddenly cried out:

"He's got a beautiful, fine, rich, noble wife! Yes, that's all we are
here for--so that nothing may happen to you in your silken beds out
yonder. Ha! ha! ha! And when they get a child in wedlock, they get some
poor woman to suckle it. Walpurga's well off; her milk's turned to
gold. Oh, if I could only stop thinking."

She tore her hair and gritted her teeth. "It's a wonder that the wild
and burning thoughts that pass through my brain haven't burned away the
stupid black hair long ago. Oh, my head's burning, and I get blo