Throughout the capital, schools, offices, and workshops were closed. With the exception of, now and then, a noisy group of men who soon entered a large building and disappeared from view, the streets were given over to women and children. It was election day. It seemed as if the thousand and one diversified interests and sentiments that help to make up the life of a city had converged to a single point--as if a great soul were communing with itself. Although it was in broad daylight, a wondrous silence rested upon the deserted streets. Gunther's carriage had just come from Bruno's house, and now stopped at the town-hall. The doctor alighted, went upstairs and gave in his vote. In consideration of his being a physician in active practice, he was allowed to vote before his turn. He returned to his carriage and drove home, When he entered the sitting-room, his wife handed him a telegram which had just been received. Gunther opened it. "What's the matter?" exclaimed Madame Gunther, for she had never before seen so great a change in her husband's face. He handed her the telegram and she read: "Count Eberhard Wildenort paralyzed. Deprived of speech. Send word to son and daughter to come at once; if possible, you also. "DOCTOR MANN, _District Physician_." "You are going?" said Madame Gunther in an agitated, but scarcely inquiring tone. Gunther nodded affirmatively. "I've one request to make," continued Madame Gunther. With a slight motion of his hand, the doctor intimated that he wished her to proceed. He felt as if his tongue were palsied. "I'd like to go with you," said she. "I don't understand you." "Sit down," said the wife, and when Gunther had seated himself, she placed her gentle hand upon his lofty forehead. His face brightened, and she went on to say: "Wilhelm, this is a terrible visitation. Let me do all I can to alleviate the grief of the lost child whom this dread message will soon reach. I can imagine her feelings. Who knows? Perhaps her own actions have been the cause of this.--Although she rides in her carriage, I shall assist her as faithfully as if she were a poor outcast; and if the poor soul repels me, I shall not leave her. I don't know what may happen, but the moment may come when she will feel it a comfort to rest the head now scourged by thorns against a woman's heart. Do let me go with you?" "I've no objection. For the present, however, you had better get everything ready for my departure." He drove to Bruno's house. As soon as the latter noticed his sad looks, he exclaimed: "And so your party was beaten?" "Not yet," replied Gunther, gently breaking the news to Bruno. Bruno turned away, hurriedly gathered up several letters that were lying on the table and locked them up in his desk. He was soon ready to go with Gunther to Irma, to whom they broke the sad news as gently as possible.