As I said before, there was great joy at Pümpelhagen. Frida's clear eyes were turned lovingly on her little daughter, and motherly love had woven an invisible veil with which to cover their clear-sightedness, and hide the impending gloom from her for the time being. It had never been the case before in her active life, but now she indulged in one dream after another of the future happiness of her husband and child, especially when she held the baby out for its father to look at. Alick's heart was also full of joy. He came out and in continually to look at his wife and child, but still there was one drop of bitterness in his cup: he had hoped for a son to carry on his old and noble race, and he was disappointed. It is a sad thing for an innocent little girl to come into the world when she is not wanted, and to have to suffer because of the disappointed hopes of other people. Alick would have been angry if any one had said that to him, for he had really rejoiced in spite of his disappointment. He had at once announced the "good news" to all his acquaintances, not excepting the horse-dealers he employed, and Pomuchelskopp; he had only forgotten to announce the event to three people: to his cousin Frank--"the young fool"--to Mrs. Behrens--"the match-maker"--and to Mrs. Nüssler--"the under-bred old woman." When he laid the envelopes containing the announcements on his wife's bed and she expressed her surprise that he had omitted these three people, he answered coldly, that he did not care to have anything to do with such persons, and that if she wished to send them announcements she must do it herself. She did so.