Ere long Frau Heimert played a leading _rôle_ in the little world of the barracks. The wives of the non-commissioned officers listened more or less dubiously to the romantic tale of her origin, and envied her the all-powerful money at her disposal. For not only did she give one pure coffee from the bean,--no chicory mixture,--but she was also extremely fashionable in her attire, rustling about in silk-lined skirts, so that folk turned to look as she passed them. The good women considered her gowns altogether too noticeable. And such undergarments as she possessed! Red and yellow silk chemises and drawers, trimmed with the finest lace. Such lovely jewellery, too! Yes, indeed, Frau Heimert must come of well-to-do people. That was obvious in everything belonging to her, her house, her clothes, her linen. Her expensive musk scent penetrated even into the men's quarters. Albina accepted the honour paid her with the airs of a little queen. She spared neither her good coffee nor her good nature; she wore her dresses, which she said came from one of the leading firms, with an easy grace. In reality, she bought them from an old "friend," part of whose business it was to be always in the latest Paris mode. The non-coms.' wives envied Frau Heimert's taste, and tried to copy her manner and deportment. Only the fair-haired little Berlin seamstress, Frieda, Sergeant Wiegandt's sweetheart, found fault with her. Once at the non-commissioned officers' summer fête, that young person--who, by-the-by, was almost suspected of being a red-hot little social-democrat--saw Albina, and had the courage to declare, "That creature?--Otto, she's a----no! I won't soil my mouth with the dirty word. But I know that sort of truck! In some matters you men are just as blind and as stupid as new-born kittens." Seeing Albina surrounded by lieutenants and non-coms., dancing first with one and then with another, Frieda grew quite excited. "Otto," cried she, "if you dare to dance with that baggage, all is over between us. It's like flies buzzing about a sugar-cake." Wiegandt had fully intended to dance the next dance with Frau Heimert; but he dutifully abandoned the idea, and conducted Frieda into a secluded little plantation, where other couples wandered lovingly entwined like themselves.