It was in the month of June on a sunny Sunday afternoon. Trumpet music sounded softly out of the wood. A great festival was to be held there to-day. A wandering band had consented to be hired to give a concert. The country people had come from far and wide, and even the squires had not refused to participate in it, for such a thing did not often happen in this quiet part of the world. Since the middle of the day a long row of carriages had passed the Haidehof, and old Meyerhofer, who did not like staying at home when anything was going on, had suddenly been overcome by a fit of kindness, and called out to his womenfolk to get ready as quickly as possible; he would sacrifice himself and take them to the festivity. The twins, who had already for a long time been standing at the window, looking out with eager sparkling eyes, broke out into a loud demonstration of joy. Frau Elsbeth gave them a quiet smile and turned to Paul, who sat silently in his corner and went on cutting little sticks to tie up the flowers, as if all this did not concern him at all. “Will you not come, too?” she asked. “Paul can drive,” cried Meyerhofer, carelessly. He thanked them and said that his coat was too shabby, and also he wanted to look after the workmen, who were to come at sunset. The next morning haymaking was to begin. The twins looked at him, laid their heads together, and giggled; then, when he went towards the door, they hung round him, and Katie whispered, “Listen; we know something.” “Well, what is it?” “Something nice,” said Greta, mysteriously. “Out with it.” “Elsbeth Douglas has come home again.” And breaking out into merry laughter they ran away. Paul at first felt very angry that they dared to mock him; then he sighed and smiled, and wondered why his heart had suddenly begun to beat so loudly. Half an hour later his family drove away. “Do join us soon,” his mother called down to him from the carriage, and Katie getting into it whispered into his ear, “I believe they will be there, too.” Now he stood quite alone in the deserted courtyard. The servants had gone to the fields to milk--no human being was to be seen far and wide. The ducks in their pool had put their heads under their wings, and the kennel-dog snapped sleepily at the flies. Paul seated himself on the garden fence and gazed towards the wood, at the edge of which gay light dresses flitted to and fro, while now and then there was a bright glitter, when the sunbeams were reflected in the harness of the waiting carriage-horses. The evening came; he was still undecided whether he should venture to follow his family. A thousand reasons occurred to him which made his staying at home absolutely necessary, and when it was quite clear to him that he ought to remain at home and not go anywhere else he put on his Sunday coat and went to the festival.