As the Baron remained silent, Mrs. Maxa added, "Will you let me say something to you on the strength of our old friendship, Baron Bruno?" "Certainly. I can trust my dear Maxa to say only what is right," he replied. "I have noticed that you have evaded mentioning the name Salo, that you seemed reluctant to answer Leonore's questions concerning his possible coming. I know that bitter memories are connected with the name, but I also want you to know that you will deprive yourself of a great blessing if you banish the boy who bears that name." "Please let him come here, if only for a little while," Mrs. Maxa begged, yet more strongly, "so that you can see him. If you can't willingly see him who may be the pride and joy of your life, then open the door of his home because, before God, it is right, which you must feel as fully as I." The Baron was silent, then finally said, "Salo may come." Mrs. Maxa's face shone with joy and gratitude. Many things had still to be discussed, and the two old friends remained sitting under the pine tree till the last rays of the setting sun were throwing a rosy light over the gray castle. The children were at last returning from their walk across the meadows. They looked like a full-blown garden when they approached the Baron's chair, for they were covered with garlands of poppies, ivy and cornflowers. Now supper was announced, and the Baron was escorted to the terrace as before. It was a true triumphal march this time, when he, throned in his chair with the lion-skin on his knees, was pushed along by the gaily decked children. The Baron told them how much he would enjoy taking a similar ride into the fields some day. When Mrs. Maxa gave the sign for parting after the merry supper party, no sign of grief was shown because the Baron had already told them that Leonore was to move up into the castle in a few days. They were all to be present then. After that there would be no end to their visits. When the Baron shook Mäzli's hand at parting, he said, "You came to see me first, Mäzli, so you shall always be my special friend." "Yes, I'll be your friend," Mäzli said firmly. When Leonore tenderly took leave of her uncle she whispered in his ear, "May Salo come soon, Uncle?" This time the answer was a clear affirmative, and the child's heart was filled with rapture. "Oh, Aunt Maxa," he cried aloud, "Can't we sing our evening song up here? I should love to sing the song my mother used to sing." When consent was given, they grouped themselves about the Baron's chair and sang: God, Who disposes all things well, I want but what Thou givest me. Oh how can we Thine acts foretell, When Thou are far more wise than we? All the way home the children kept looking back at the castle, for their day had been too marvellous.