I always felt as if men were speaking from the heart, and I could say, after a few words: This man has a good heart, and that man has a bad heart. And with Stein this proves to be correct. I have seen many proofs of his good heart. Thus, there died a few days ago an immensely old woman in the village, who was once upon a time housekeeper at the château, and drew a little pension from papa. Nobody took any notice of her except Stein, and he took care of her burial, and accompanied, together with Bruno, her remains to the grave-yard. They have blamed him for that at the house here, and I had to hear very heartless remarks about it; especially from a certain person, who ought to thank God if she ever thinks of a kind act, much less does one. But I will not honor this person by saying anything more about her. I have determined that she shall henceforth no longer exist for me, and hence I will not even speak of her any more...." This letter, in which Miss Helen spoke so unreservedly about the persons by whom she was surrounded, never was answered, for it never reached its destination. CHAPTER XII. It was in the afternoon. The old baron was napping in the sitting-room. He sat in his large rocking-chair; the newspaper he had been reading had fallen from his feeble, withered hand. He looked very much worsted, like a really old man who had not many years to live, and whose life might be very suddenly ended by a trifling attack. Anna Maria, no doubt, thought so as she sat opposite to him in her accustomed seat, looking at him long and attentively, apparently lost in deep thought. Now she rose and spread a thin handkerchief over the sleeper's face. Then she looked at the clock on the mantel-piece. It was nearly four, the hour at which, according to the unchanging rules of the house, coffee was served--in the garden, if the weather permitted it. The baroness was on the point of rousing her husband, but she reconsidered, went through the open door into the garden, and asked the servant who was carrying the coffee if Baron Felix had been called already?--Not yet, ma'am! Then go up stairs and tell him I beg he will come at once to see me, and--wait! tell mademoiselle she need not come to help to coffee; I'll do it myself; she had better stay in the linen-room.--And, what was it? Oh yes! You need not tell the others yet that coffee is ready! The man went on his errands. Anna Maria passed the garden-house and entered a long, perfectly shady avenue of beech-trees, which led from the lawn to a copse, in which an old ruined chapel was standing. She seemed to have forgotten entirely that she had sent for Felix, for she went on and on, her eyes fixed upon the ground, till she reached the end of the avenue and the little chapel.