There! I knew Marie could not have done that. But do you know--Marie--a few moments ago I opened her door softly, to see how she was resting, and found her still fully dressed, just as she came from the train, seated at the open window, a book in her lap, and staring out into space. Brauer. Well, well, well! I thought her passion for novels had passed away long ago. Mrs. Brauer. I've been thinking--we must watch her more closely. Brauer. She needs no one to watch over her! She is well able to take care of herself; but we must spare her---- Mrs. Brauer. But, Henry, just now--three days before the wedding--who could think of sparing one's self? Brauer. Well, you know--h'm---- Mrs. Brauer. Henry, you know how I love the girl; but, good gracious, she is not our own dear, sweet one---- Gertrude. Oh, she is more than that, mama dear. Mrs. Brauer. You are entirely too modest, my darling. Gertrude. Well, just imagine, mama dear, she was going to be married--and I remained at home---- Mrs. Brauer. Then we would retain our sunshine, our consolation, our---- [_Looking at breakfast table with a questioning expression_.] But, children, I can't understand---- Gertrude. What, mama dear? Mrs. Brauer. Gracious! Everything is so--so-- [_Topsy-turvy indicated by action_.] If she is not going to sleep, she may as well come down here---- Gertrude. [_Laughingly caressing her mama_.] There, you see, mama, dear, not even a single meal can you eat without her. [George von Harten _enters_.] Brauer. Well, at last you have aroused yourself; you---- George. [_Interrupts him, tapping his hand_.] There, softly, softly, dear uncle; don't begin scolding so early in the morning. Brauer. Don't you think it's pretty near time to call me father, my boy? George. Not until after the wedding, dear uncle.--Good-morning, auntie. [_Kissing her hand_.] Well, little one? [_Kissing her_.] Gertrude. [_Leans on him lovingly_.] My George. [_Laughs suddenly_.] Oh, just look! he is simply covered with hay! George. Then you may make yourself useful by brushing me off. Brauer. The hayloft seems to be your favorite sleeping-place lately. George.