And now for the second time she told the fiction which she had invented about her cousin's invitation, with even greater assurance than before, and, moreover, with a little amplification this time. Along with the secret joy which she found in the telling, she felt her courage increasing at the same time. Even the possibility of being joined by her brother-in-law no longer alarmed her. She felt, too, that she had an advantage over him, because of the way in which he was in the habit of sidling up to her. "How long are you thinking of staying in the town, then?" asked her sister-in-law. "Two or three days; certainly no longer. And in any case, of course, I should have had to go on Monday--to the dressmaker." Richard strummed on the keys, but Elly stood with both arms resting on the piano, gazing at her aunt with a look almost of terror. "Whatever is the matter with you?" asked Bertha involuntarily. "Why do you ask that?" said Elly. "You are looking at me," said Bertha, "as queerly as though--well, as though you did not like the idea of missing your music lessons for a couple of days." "No, it is not that," replied Elly, smiling. "But ... no, I can't tell you." "What is it, though?" asked Bertha. "No, please, I really can't tell you." She hugged her aunt, almost imploringly. "Elly," said her mother, "I cannot permit you to have any secrets." She sat down as though most deeply grieved and very tired. "Well, Elly," said Bertha, filled with a vague fear, "if I were to beg you--" "But you mustn't laugh at me, Aunt." "Certainly not." "Well, you see, Aunt, I was so frightened when you were away in Vienna that last time--I know very well it is silly--but it is because ... because of the number of carriages in the streets." Bertha drew a deep breath as of relief, and stroked Elly's cheeks. "I will be sure to take great care. You can be quite easy in your mind." Her sister-in-law shook her head. "I am afraid that Elly will turn out a most eccentric girl." Before Bertha left the house she arranged with her sister-in-law that she would come back to supper, and that she would hand over Fritz to the care of her relations while she as away in Vienna. After dinner, Bertha sat down at the writing table, read over Emil's letter a few more times, and made a rough draft of her reply. "My Dear Emil,