This question made Martha fairly overflow with praises of the boy. She told Mr. Hellmut that she had never known a boy who was so polite and friendly to simple folks as this boy had been; he had been well brought up, had the most refined and charming manners, and was well educated, and at the same time so simple and childishly devoted to old, plain Martha. She had never read letters like the mother’s letter to her son, so beautiful, affectionate and elevating. He had always read them to her, and she had had to cry every time from sheer emotion. She had never before seen as beautiful linen as the boy had worn, and it had all been his two sisters’ work. “Martha,” the Director finally interrupted her, “according to your account, it would be a great blessing for my daughter to spend even a day in such a family.” “If you would really take her there, Director, I certainly would be happy--ah! I would not know a greater happiness.” Martha had to wipe her eyes, she was so stirred. “You shall know it, Martha. We’ll go tomorrow, and on the same evening you shall hear an account of all that happened.” With these words the Director seized her hand, and after shaking it heartily, departed. “Get everything ready, Cornelli! We are going to town to-morrow,” he called to his daughter, who sat on the garden bench quietly thinking. “Esther shall call you early, at six o’clock.” “Indeed, I shall,” came Esther’s voice through some open window. She was a good sentinel, for she always seemed to know what was going on in the house and its immediate neighborhood. Early next morning the two shiny brown horses were trotting down the valley. They had to go for four full hours, but that seemed a pure pleasure to them; the longer they ran, the more spirit they seemed to get, and Matthew had to keep them from galloping all the time. In her corner Cornelli meditated as to how she could tell the maid at her arrival that she wanted to visit no one but Dino, and wanted to be taken straight to his room. She planned also to forbid Dino to call his sisters and his mother, for she wanted to see him alone. She would pay Dino a long visit and then steal quietly away without being noticed. She was also reflecting about everything she wanted to tell her friend. First of all, she had to tell him that the news had at last come out regarding who had been standing on the sofa. She had told him all about this deep grief she had borne for so long. So they came to town much sooner than Cornelli had ever thought possible. The carriage was already halting before the hotel where her father usually stopped, and Cornelli jumped down. “Shall I come back again in four hours, Papa?” she asked. “I can find my way alone, for Dino has described it to me.” “Stop, stop! That is not the way; I am coming, too,” the father said. Cornelli was quite sorry not to be able to start off alone, for that had been her plan. Now everything was quite different.