“To-day, eight years ago, our barn was burned down!” All were silent; only their father chuckled and sighed to himself.... It began to grow dark; over the heath there still streamed a streak of red light, which was reflected a fiery glow upon the white table-cloth. The storm rattled at the shutters. It was a good thing that the house-keeper now entered the room. She was a garrulous woman, who had always much news to relate. “Well, Frau Jankus, what have you to tell us?” called out Kate to her, who was glad to shake off the nightmare of remembrance. “Oh, dear madam,” cried the old person, “don’t you know yet? There are great goings-on in the church to-day. The whole village is making wreaths; over the altar they have hung a whole garland of rare tea-roses, and on each side the most beautiful oleander trees are placed.” “Why, what’s the matter?” “A wedding is the matter! Miss Douglas’s wedding will be to-morrow!” The two sisters started, exchanged a quick glance with each other, and then looked at Paul. But he was rolling a crumb of bread between his fingers, and looked as if the story did not concern him in the least. The sisters exchanged another glance and nodded significantly. Then, with the same impulse, they both seized his hands. “Children, you tear me to pieces,” he said, with a feeble smile. “Ah, then there will be _polterabend_ there today?” asked their father, growing quite lively all of a sudden. “Probably, probably!” answered the old housekeeper. “Not long ago I saw a troop of children go by quite laden with old flower-pots and rubbish.” “At our wedding they showed more moderation,” said Greta, and both sisters looked at each other and smiled dreamily. “That’s a splendid coincidence,” muttered the old man, and rubbed his hands. “Why splendid?” asked Paul. “Oh, I only meant ... coincidence--the same day that they burned down our barn. Just tell me, Paul--you were awake--what hour might it have been when you saw the flames rise?” “It might have been one o’clock.” “Well, you ought to know. Though what the business really was that took you to Helenenthal that night passes my comprehension, but it is all right quite right! now I know the exact hour.” Then you know a great deal! said Greta, laughing. “So I do,” he answered, sulkily. “You’ll see, my little daughter, you’ll see!” Kate was about to come to her sister’s assistance, but Paul made them a sign, secretly, to leave the old man in peace. Soon after, the sisters took leave. “You wanted to tell Paul that father has secrets behind the barn,” said Kate, when they were both sitting in the dog cart. “Yes that is true!” she answered, made the driver stop, and beckoned to Paul. But the old man, who, in his distrust, always liked to hear everything that was said, thrust himself in, and so they had to leave it unsaid. When Paul, on his usual evening round, came into the kitchen, he saw how his father was negotiating with the house keeper for an earthen pot.