their place was filled by sadness and a deep compassion for his only child. Little Mrs. Behrens thought no longer of her duster, she had something else to do now, and she applied herself heart and soul to the work of comforting her companions, but as far as Hawermann was concerned, her labour was in vain. The old man's strength was leaving him. His courage and love of life were gone, and the unwonted inactivity of his existence at Rahnstädt helped to depress him. His condition would have given his friends cause for uneasiness had it not been that his daughter's sweet voice was always able to banish the evil spirit of melancholy from him, in like manner as the songs of David chased away the evil spirit from King Saul. He refused to act differently from what he had done until he was proved innocent of the charge of theft which had been brought against him, and although Frank had tried to prove to him that the principal charge had been that of falsifying the accounts, and that that had fallen to the ground as soon as the farm-book had been restored, he said that as long as the other accusation remained, he was a marked man and he could not consent to Frank marrying his daughter. In vain Frank implored him to remember what a weak, thoughtless man his cousin Alick was, and that he was different and did not believe the charge. Hawermann remained firm. That was a great mistake on his part. Many people would say, why didn't he, being strong in the knowledge of his own innocence, stand up and throw the lie back in the teeth of the world? And I say to anyone who asks me that question, you are right. He ought to have done so, and he would have done so--if he had been the old Hawermann of former days. But he was that no more. He was broken-spirited through being pained, offended and constantly thwarted; then came the public accusation, the horrors of his parting interview with the squire, and lastly Mrs. von Rambow, for whom he would have given his life, had deserted him. The climax came at a moment when his heart had opened to a dream of happiness. In winter frost does no harm, for spring is coming to make all right again; but it is very different when the frost comes and shrivels the green leaves and flowers; when snow falls on the tender shoots of hope and kills them, it is sad, very sad; and it is sad when the little singing-birds which have put faith in the spring are frozen to death in their nests, and the wood is silent as the grave. The old man had allowed the spring of hope to blossom in his heart, and now it was gone and dark gloomy forms had taken its place. He had received a blow from which he could not recover. Take from the miser the treasure that he has scraped together during the last sixty years, and you kill him; and yet that is only a 'treasure that the rust doth eat;' what is it in comparison with a man's good name. Mrs. Behrens' only comfort was in Frank's last words; he had said, he could wait, he would come again.