On New Year's evening some of the younger members of the family were assembled in the drawing-room. Hedwig, the last to join them, went shivering to the fire, and stretched out her hands before the blaze. "I am cold to my very bones," she said. "As I passed the ball-room just now, the door was open, and by the light of the hall-lamp, I saw the long white-covered table, and thought how soon it might be replaced by black trestles. Oh, I wish we were away! but Eduard says we mast stay it out." "Of course we must!" Hildegard exclaimed. "What would grandpapa think of our leaving him alone now? At such times the family must hold together." "I don't see what good our holding together can do," said Magelone. "With the exception of Johanna, who sees that grandpapa and Aunt Thekla do not starve beside the sick-bed----" "They would be taken care of without her," Hildegard interposed. "However, if she chooses to play Martha, let her; our task will be different, and much more difficult, at the death-bed and the funeral." "How can you think of death and a funeral all because of a fall on the head!" exclaimed Magelone, rising and going to a window-recess. Hildegard smiled disdainfully. "The fable of the ostrich," she said. "But what is to be will be, however we may close our eyes to it." "Do you really think, then, that he will die?" asked Hedwig. "The physician from town has given him up," Hildegard replied. Hedwig gazed into the fire. After a pause she said, scarce audibly, "If he were to die, Otto would be the heir." "And the wayward Magelone would be _vis-à-vis de rien_," Hildegard added. "I do not think so; it would only be the exchange of a lover for her. Look there!" said Hedwig. She had observed in the mirror that Otto had arisen from the table, where he had been reading the papers, and had joined Magelone. Hildegard smiled with an air of superiority. "Never fear," she said, with conviction. "Magelone was very well suited for Johann Leopold, unamiable and misanthropic as he was; but if Otto is ever the heir, he may fairly look to make a brilliant match, which he will do. I know our brother." She might not have been so very sure if she had heard the conversation in the window-recess. "Are you sad, Magelone?" asked Otto, as he took her hand. "Are you grieving for Johann Leopold?" "Grieving? No; your sisters irritated me," she replied. "I detest to have mountains made out of mole-hills. Imagine their talking of death and a funeral!" "You are right; there is no necessity for giving up all hope so soon," said Otto. "But, on the other side, is it not natural that every possibility should present itself to the imagination? I, too, Magelone, with all my trying not to look upon the dark side, have not been able to refrain, since the accident, from asking myself how you would feel, Magelone, if--if we were to lose Johann Leopold." And he bent over her so that his moustache nearly touched her cheek as he added, "Would you grieve?"