thrown her rosary round the infant's neck, and had sprinkled the bed with holy water. But the young mother had burst into tears--into hopeless, never-ending tears. Then Mrs. Tiralla had been very ill, so ill that her anxious husband had not only sent for the doctor from Gradewitz, but also for the best physician in Gnesen. Both doctors had assured him, however, that there was no danger, that his young wife was only very weak and nervous. Mr. Tiralla could not understand why. * * * * * * * * * * * * * Mrs. Tiralla now got up from her prayers. It was high time to urge her husband to start for Gnesen. Perhaps he was still lying in bed. She dressed in angry haste. She did not arrange her thick hair with her usual care--her hands were trembling, she was in a hurry. No sound of wheels reached her attentive ear, the man could not be taking the carriage out of the coach-house. Her husband must still be sleeping. Hastily throwing on her skirt, and without waiting to fasten her blouse, she ran across the stone passage to the room into which she had been drawn as a trembling bride, and in which her little girl had been born. There he was, still lying in the big bed, snoring. "Get up!" She seized him by the shoulder and shook him. His hair stood up like bristles around his forehead. [Pg 27] "How horrible he looked!" she thought. And what did the room smell of? Drink. That disgusting smell came from him. No feeling of compassion softened her eyes. She stood bolt upright at the side of the bed and scanned him from top to toe with sparkling eyes. He would soon lie there again. A triumphant cry rose to her lips, but she suppressed it. Silence, silence. What would that inquisitive maid think if she rejoiced in this way? She seized hold of her husband once more with renewed strength, and shook him so vigorously that he started up. Mr. Tiralla stared around with eyes that were still quite dim. Who was there? Why didn't they leave him in peace? He wanted to sleep longer. "Get up!" she shouted to him. "You've to go out. It is time, high time!" "Who must go out? Not I," he stammered drowsily, and fell back on his pillow. He was so heavy that she could not lift him; her shaking and her cry of "Get up!" were of no avail. Then, in her anger, she poured some icy-cold water on his face. That helped. He opened his eyes, suddenly quite wide awake. "Ah, my dove, are you coming to me?" he said tenderly, and stretched out his arms. She hit him across his fingers. "Leave that nonsense!" she said coldly. But then her voice grew softer. "You've promised to drive to Gnesen, remember. It's time!" "To Gnesen--Gnesen? I'm not going there. What have I to do there?" He had no idea of what he had said. What he had promised the day before in his transport of joy was now quite forgotten.