Lena started; but she could scarcely have reached the square in front of Michael's church, when the old woman, who had been lying in a half doze sat upright and called: "Lena ..." "Lena is not here." "Who is here then?" "I, Mother Nimptsch. I, Frau Doerr." "Ah, Frau Doerr, that is right. Come here; sit on the footstool." Frau Doerr, who was not accustomed to receiving orders, hung back a little, but was too good-natured not to do as she was asked. And so she sat down on the stool. And immediately the old woman began: "I want a yellow coffin and blue trimmings. But not too much...." "Yes, Frau Nimptsch." "And I want to be buried in the new Jacob's churchyard, behind the Rollkrug and quite far over on the road to Britz." "Yes, Frau Nimptsch." "And I saved up enough for all that is needed, long ago, when I was still able to save up. And it is in the top drawer. And the chemise and short gown are there and a pair of white stockings marked with N. And it is lying among the other things." "Yes, Frau Nimptsch. Everything shall be done just as you say. And is there anything more?" But the old woman did not seem to have heard Frau Doerr's question, and without answering, she merely folded her hands, looked up toward the ceiling with a pious and peaceful expression and prayed: "Dear Father in heaven, protect her and reward her for all that she has done for a poor old woman." "Ah, Lena," said Frau Doerr to herself and then she added: "The good Lord will do that too, Frau Nimptsch, I know him, and I have never seen any one come to grief that was like Lena and that had such a heart and such hands as she has." The old woman nodded and one could see that some pleasant picture was in her mind. So the minutes passed away and when Lena came back and knocked on the door of the corridor, Frau Doerr was still sitting on the footstool and holding her old friend's hand. And only when she heard Lena knock did she lay down Frau Nimptsch's hand and go to open the door. Lena was still out of breath. "He will be here right away.... He is coming at once." But Frau Doerr only said: "Oh Lord, the doctors!" and pointed to the dead woman. CHAPTER XX Katherine's first letter was posted in Cologne and reached Berlin the following morning, according to expectations. The accompanying address had been given by Botho himself, who, smiling and good-humored, held in his hand a rather thick-feeling letter. Three cards faintly written on both sides with a pencil had been put in the envelope, and all of them barely legible, so that Rienaecker went out on the balcony, in order better to decipher the indistinct scrawl. "Now let us see, Catherine." And he read: "Brandenburg a. H., 8 o'clock in the morning.