Was it nothing but abstract philanthropy that suffered Irene to find no rest in any place or any occupation all that day, in spite of the comforting assurances of the doctor?--that drove her from the piano to the writing-desk, from the writing-desk out on to the balcony, and from the garden down to the shore? Not a step sounded on the floor, not a carriage rolled past in the street, but what she trembled. She had herself sufficiently under control, however, not to betray her nervousness by a single word. But her feverish restlessness did not escape her uncle, who, the night before, had gained for the first time a clear insight into a nature usually so proud. He was secretly rejoiced at this, much as he pitied the poor child in her restless grief. For the first time in years he felt that he was the wiser of the two; that he was being justified by the course things were taking, and that his good advice, which had once been scorned, was now redounding to his credit. But as he really loved her, he behaved with the most labored delicacy and consideration toward the young sufferer; never touched her hidden wound by a single word, and only grumbled now and then at the faithless Schnetz, who, considering the slight distance that separated them, might certainly have come over and given him a report of the patient by word of mouth. He knew that this thought was never out of Irene's mind for a moment, and that all her listening and waiting turned upon it. But when the afternoon came, and no new message made its appearance, he threw his rifle over his shoulder, kissed the hand of his pale little niece, and left the house to scour the woods for a while. If Schnetz should show himself in the mean while, they were to hold him prisoner for the evening. Scarcely did Irene find herself alone, when she fancied she could not breathe the air in the close little rooms any longer. She hastily caught up her sketch-book, put on her hat, and called her maid to accompany her for a walk. She had recently discovered a picturesque spot, with old trees and high ferns, farther back in the woods, which she wanted to sketch. She trusted that she should be able to find it again.