Cornelia arranged the tea-table, lighted the wick under an old-fashioned silver tea-kettle, and then sat down to listen to the charming music that instantly became audible. At first one could only distinguish the different tones of boiling water, but by degrees they became more melodious, and blended together not into a confused bubbling, but the notes of the choral song, "Blick hin nach Golgotha!" It was a wonderfully artistic plaything, concealed in the lid, and set in motion by a glass roller, by the pressure of steam. The tones of course were louder or fainter as the water boiled more or less violently, and thus the whole sounded like the singing of a tea kettle, transformed into melody by some invisible fairy. This tender, mysterious music did indeed harmonize with Cornelia's mood, and she looked up as if roused from a dream when the stiff, precise old servant entered, and, with a doubtful mien, said that Herr von Ottmar wished to see the ladies. "He is very welcome," said Veronica, joyfully; and the old man, casting a sullen glance at Cornelia's blushing face, opened the door. _Heinrich_ entered. He apologized for the late hour of his visit by saying that he had received a note from the prince, directing him to prepare for a journey, and expect further orders the following day. Thus it might happen that he would be compelled to set out at once without having any time for farewells. Veronica assured him that no apology was necessary, and begged him to take tea with them. The old servant, to his great disgust, was ordered to bring another plate, and sternly placed a chair for _Heinrich_ beside Veronica, pressing it violently on the floor, as if he would like to make it grow there; but _Heinrich_ involuntarily pushed it towards Cornelia, and the old man withdrew, shaking his head. Cornelia said nothing, and _Heinrich_ looked at her inquiringly. In the silence that followed he noticed the singing of the tea-kettle. "What strange little organ have you there?" he asked, in surprise. "It is a relic of my sentimental youth," replied Veronica, "and is really closely connected with a portion of my life." "Why, that is very interesting! What air is it playing?" "A choral I often sang in my young clays. Tell Herr von Ottmar the words, Cornelia, or he will think you have forgotten how to speak." Cornelia repeated the well-known strophe: "Schau hin nach Golgotha! Dort schwebt am Kreuzes-stamm' Im Todeskampf dein Jesus, Mit deiner Schuld beladen. Schau hin nach Golgotha! Er neigt sein sterbend Haupt, Es bricht sein Herz, Selbst Engel weinen: Der Welterlöser todt!"