But help was at hand. Hedwig Wildenhayn had just presented her husband with a second daughter, and she wrote begging Magelone to stand godmother to it, and adding that she must not fail to be present at the christening. Within the letter which was for the public was a closely-written sheet marked 'private,' which ran thus: "DEAR MAGELONE,--You must come, not only on account of the child, but to tell Hildegard (who is coming to the christening) and me more about Otto's betrothal than can be confided to paper. The affair is still a riddle to me. Our husbands--you know how good-humoured they are--maintain, indeed, that Otto is quite right, and Johanna's 'a capital girl!' (I wish I knew why), but this is hardly enough to satisfy me, and Hildegard (who has always been more decided in her opinion than I) declares she never shall be satisfied, and that three such clever women as we must, if we can get together, find ways and means to liberate the poor boy. To speak frankly, dear Magelone, I thought I discovered, upon our last visit to Dönninghausen, that our brother Otto was desperately enamoured of a certain lady (you guess who she is, although your modesty may prevent your admitting it), and I was sorry to see it, I confess, for he could not marry her. I still believe in it (I mean his devotion in that quarter), and I fancy that Otto in pique (men are so odd, and women, too, for that matter) has betrothed himself to this girl. Hildegard, however, insists that the whole affair has been patched up by our grandfather, who chooses thus to make a Dönninghausen of his favorite niece (can you understand why she is so?), and does not care how we stand affected. You see, dear Magelone, you must come. Only when, by your help, we can clearly appreciate our poor Otto's unhappy circumstances (I do not exonerate him from blame, but I am so sorry for him) can we decide whether there is any help for him and for us. I continually ask myself wherein we have deserved this trial that has befallen us all, even my little angel-daughter; for, since her elder sister had to be named Henriette, after my mother-in-law, it would have been so natural to christen this little girl Johanna (grandpapa's godfather's tokens are always so magnificent, and he is evidently so much fonder of children who are named after him); but Hildegard says that to do so now would look like an ovation to the sister-in-law who has been forced upon us, and of course I am too proud for that, apart from the fact that Hildegard never would forgive me. But I must conclude; my dear Eduard is scolding me for writing so much, and we women submit only too gladly to love's tyranny. So adieu for the present, dear Magelone. Pray come as soon as you can. You can, perhaps, give