hen she asked somebody what
time it was. The time passed slowly. At last it was almost one. Then
she felt her heart beat: the good boy! In her thoughts she could
already see his dark eyes flash with joy, hear his amazed: "Cillchen!
You?"

Cilia pushed her hat straight on her beautiful fair hair, and stared
fixedly at the school-door with a more vivid red on her red cheeks: the
bell would soon ring--then he would come rushing out--then--. All at
once she saw the boy's mother. She? Frau Schlieben was approaching the
door with quick steps. Oh dear!

A few quick bounds brought her behind a bush: did she intend
fetching her Wolfgang herself to-day? Oh, then she would have
to go. And she stole away to the station, full of grief. The joy that
had made her heart beat had all disappeared; but she still had one
consolation: Wolfgang would not forget her. No, never!

Wolfgang was much surprised to see his mother. Surely he need not be
fetched? She had never done that herself before. He was disagreeably
impressed. Was he a baby? The others would make fun of him. He felt
very indignant, but his mother's kindness disarmed him.

She was specially tender that day, and very talkative. She inquired
about everything they had been doing at school, she did not even scold
when he confessed he had had ten faults in his Latin composition; on
the contrary, she promised he should make an excursion to Schildhorn
that afternoon. It was such a beautiful, sunny autumn day, almost like
summer. The boy sauntered along beside her, quite content, dangling his
books at the end of the long strap. He had quite forgotten for the
moment that Cilia was to leave that day.

But when they came home and the strange maid answered the door, he
opened his eyes wide, and when they sat down at table and the new girl
with the pointed face, who did not look at all like a servant, brought
in the dishes, he could not contain himself any longer.

"Where's Cilia?" he asked.

"She has gone away--you know it," said his mother in a casual tone
of voice.

"Away?" He turned pale and then crimson. So she had gone without
saying good-bye to him! All at once he had no appetite, although he had
been so hungry before. Every mouthful choked him; he looked stiffly at
his plate--he dared not look up for fear of crying.

His parents spoke of this and that--all trivial matters--and a voice
within him cried: "Why has she gone without saying good-bye to me?" It
hurt him very muc