"Quite so," she interrupted; "I have told you about things which, however, I regret to have mentioned now that I can see that my mother is perfectly right." "Your mother ... you told your mother about it?" "Well, yes, I have often mentioned you to her, and I told her of our last conversation. She thought it very unwise on my part to have made you discontented with the safe peaceful run"--she emphasized "safe"--"of your life." "I understand. Your mother does not think that I am ladylike, and that it might not be quite safe to assume that I should keep my situation." But after these weary words the girl put her arms round my neck. "You little silly," she said, "don't you know that you are far too good to go into a situation at all? But since you happen to be poor and have got to earn your living, it is far better that you should stay at a place like our dear old Krems, where you are less likely to encounter the dangers that lurk for young people in a big city." I had by now grasped the meaning of her words, and felt greatly moved. "I understand you, but you need not be afraid.... I am no flirt." "Hush," she replied in that soft, soothing voice that mothers use when quieting their babies; "I know that; but don't you see that it is hardly ever the flirt, but always the nice decent girl, who is taken in?" "No, no," I answered blushingly; "I am sure that nothing will happen to me." After these words my friend held me a little away from her, and gazed into my eyes long and earnestly. "No, I don't think that anything will happen to you." Then she opened her little hand-bag and took out an envelope, which she pressed into my hands very hurriedly as if she was doing something wrong. "There," she said, "I have brought it along after all, in case you wanted to go very much." After that she left me quickly, as if afraid that she might regret what she had done. Then I smoothed out the envelope and read the few words: "Miklosch Sandor, Registry Office, Buda-Pesth." I called the children together, and went home as if I was in a dream. Chapter IX