And both pairs actually took their places and Frau Doerr's stateliness visibly increased, as her partner began in a formal, dancing-master's French: "_En avant deux, Pas de Basque_." The poor sleepy freckle-faced boy looked about mechanically and allowed himself to be shoved here and there, but the three others danced as if they knew how, and old Doerr was so delighted that he jumped up and beat time on his tray with his knuckles instead of with his spoon. The spirit of other days seemed to return to Frau Nimptsch also, and since she found nothing better to do, she poked the fire until the flames leaped up. This went on until the music stopped; Botho led Frau Doerr back to her place, but Lena still stood there, because the poor awkward boy did not know what he ought to do with her. But that suited Botho exactly, for when the music at the garden began again, he began to waltz with her, and to whisper to her, how charming she was, more charming than ever. They had all grown warm, especially Frau Doerr, who now stood close to the open window. "Lord, how I am shivering," said she suddenly, whereupon Both courteously sprang forward to close the window. But Frau Doerr would not hear of such a thing and said, the fine people were all wild about fresh air, and many of them so much so that the bed coverings froze to their mouths in winter. Their breath was just like the steam from the spout of the kettle. So the window must stay open, she would not give up that point. But if dear Lena had something comforting to give them, something to warm the cockles of the heart ... "Certainly, Frau Doerr, whatever you want. I can make tea, or punch, or better still, I have the cherry brandy, that you gave Mother Nimptsch and me last Christmas for my big Christmas cake." And before Frau Doerr could decide between punch and tea, the flask of cherry brandy was already there, with small and large glasses which each could fill according to their own desire. And now Lena went around, the black kettle in her hand, and poured the boiling water into the glasses. "Not too much, Lena, not too much. Let us get the good of it. Water takes away the strength." And in a moment the room was full of the rising aroma of cherry brandy. "How nicely you did that," said Botho, as he sipped from his glass. "Lord knows, I had nothing yesterday, nor to-day at the club that tasted like this. Hurrah for Lena! But the chief credit of it all belongs to our friend, Frau Doerr, because she had that shivering fit, and so I am going to drink a second health. Frau Doerr; Hurrah for Frau Doerr." "Long may she live," shouted all the group together, and old Doerr began to thump his tray with his knuckles again.