e
more than a passing greeting, you are mistaken. Not even Barbel, Ann,
or Metz took any special notice of your sister. They kept near Ursel
Vorchtel, and she and her brother Ulrich, of course, behaved as if
I wore a fern cap and had become invisible. I cannot tell you how
uncomfortable I felt, and then--yes, Els, then I first realised
distinctly what you are to me. Obstinate as I often am, in spite of all
your kindness and care, ungraciously as I often treat you, to-night I
clearly perceived that we belong together, like a pair of eyes, and
that without you I am only half myself--or, at any rate--not complete.
And--as we are speaking in images--I felt like a sapling whose prop
has been removed; even your Wolff can never have longed for you more
ardently. My father found little time to give me. As soon as he saw me
take my place in the Polish dance he went with Uncle Pfinzing to the
drinking room, and I did not see him again till he came to bring me
home. He had asked Fran Nutzel to look after me, but her Kathrin was
taken ill, as I heard when we were leaving, and she disappeared with
her during the first dance. So I moved forlornly here and there until
he--Heinz Schorlin--came and took charge of me."

"He? Sir Heinz Schorlin?" asked Els in surprise, a look of anxious
suspense clouding her pretty, frank face. "The reckless Swiss, whom
Countess Cordula said yesterday was the pike in the dull carp pond of
the court, and the only person for whom it was worth while to bear the
penance imposed in the confessional?"

"Cordula von Montfort!" cried Eva scornfully. "If she speaks to me I
shall not answer her, I can tell you. My cheeks crimson when I think of
the liberty----"

"Never mind her," said her sister soothingly. "She is a motherless
child, and therefore unlike us. As for Heinz Schorlin, he is certainly a
gallant knight; but, my innocent lambkin, he is a wolf nevertheless."

"A wolf?" asked Eva, opening her large eyes as wide as if they beheld
some terrible object. But she soon laughed softly, and added quietly:
"But a very harmless wolf, who humbly changes his nature when the right
hand strokes him. How you stare at me! I am not thinking of your beloved
Wolff, whom you have tamed tolerably well, but the wolf of Gubbio, which
did so much mischief, and to which St. Francis went forth, accosted him
as Brother Wolf, and reminded him that they both owed their lives to
the goodness of the same divine Father. The animal se