"I really ought to invite my dear friend, Mrs. Maxa, to come to the table _with me_; I shall ask, however, who is going to take me?" said the Baron. All the children immediately cried, "I," "I," "I," "I," "I," "I," and hands caught hold of the back and both sides of the Baron's chair. "I am driving in a coach and six to-day! How things have changed for me!" the gentleman said smilingly. The meal Apollonie had planned was a great success and the open air on the terrace added to the children's enjoyment. When the fruit course, which consisted of yellow plums, was eaten, the Baron gave the young birds, as he called the children, permission to fly freely about. It seemed to crown all the preceding pleasures to be able to roam without restraint in the woods and meadows. First of all they ran towards the adjoining woods, where their need for an outlet could be gratified. "Long years to you, Leonore!" Bruno cried. "Now you and Salo are going to have a wonderful home quite near to us. Isn't it splendid! When Salo comes, we shall be together." "Long live the Baron!" Kurt screamed now with all his might. "Hurrah for Castle Wildenstein, the wonderful new home! Long live Apollonie! But where is Loneli?" he suddenly interrupted himself in the midst of his outburst; "she ought to be here, too." When everybody agreed with him, Kurt dashed towards the terrace where Loneli was just helping her grandmother carry away the dishes. "We want to have Loneli with us, Apollonie. Please let her come with me," Kurt explained his errand. "Who wants her, do you say?" Apollonie began rather severely, despite a glad note in her voice which could not be disguised. "Everybody does, and Leonore especially," was Kurt's sly answer. "You can go, Loneli," said the grandmother. "You must celebrate this great day with them." Loneli actually glowed with joy when she ran off with Kurt. As they were sitting under the pine tree, the Baron and Mrs. Maxa were reviving memories of long ago, and he listened with great emotion when Mrs. Maxa told him how faithfully his mother had tried to send him news. Her letters had, however, miscarried, because he had changed his residence so frequently. But he had wanted him to know how constant his mother's love had been and how anxiously she was waiting his return. "Mrs. Maxa," he said after a little pause, "I feel terribly ashamed. I came here with anger and hate in my heart against God and man, and my only hope was to die as soon as possible. I expected to be forsaken and despised, and instead of that I meet only kindness and love on every side. I never deserved such a thing! Do you think I can ever atone for all the wrong I've done?" "We must always bear in mind that there is One who is glad to forgive us our sins, Baron, and He can deliver us from them if we sincerely beg Him to," Mrs. Maxa answered.