altar, full of confidence,
full of hope.

Dr. Baumann spoke grave words full of advice to the boys and girls;
many of the young children sobbed, and their mothers, too. A shudder
passed through the crowded church, the young dark and fair heads bent
low. Kate's eyes sought Wolfgang; his head was the darkest of all. But
he did not keep it bent, his eyes wandered restlessly all over the
church until they came to a certain window; there they remained fixed.
What was he looking for there? Of what was he thinking? She imagined
she could see that his thoughts were far away, and that made her
uneasy. Moving nearer to her husband she whispered: "Do you see
him?"

He nodded and whispered: "Certainly. He's bigger than all the
others." There was something of a father's pride in the man's whisper.
Yes, to-day it came home to him: even if they had had many a sorrow
they would not have had under other circumstances, many a discomfort
and unpleasantness, still they had had many a joy they would otherwise
have missed. In spite of everything the boy might in time be all right.
How he was growing. There was an expression about his mouth
that was almost manly. It had never struck his father before--was it
the black clothes that made the boy look so grave?

Wolfgang's thoughts went along paths of their own; not along those
prescribed there. He had many sensations, but he could not keep hold of
any; he was lost in thought. He saw a bit of the sky through a square
in the window-pane, and the flitting figures of his father, mother,
Frida, his masters and school-fellows appeared to him in it. But they
all glided past, no vision remained. All at once he felt quite alone
among all that crowd of people.

When his turn came he stepped mechanically up to the altar with
Kullrich beside him; Lehmann and Kesselborn were in front of him. How
he hated those two again all at once. He would have liked to throw his
watch, his gold watch at their feet: there, take it! But take back
what you've said, take it back! Ugh, what a terrible night that had
been--horrible. He felt it still in all his limbs; his feet were heavy,
and as he knelt down on the cushion on the step leading up to the altar
his knees were stiff. Kullrich was crying the whole time. Ah, he was no
doubt thinking of his mother, who was not with him any longer. Poor
fellow! And Wolfgang felt suddenly that something moist and hot forced
its way into his eyes.

The organ above them was being