Meta's presence was for the house in the Springbrunnenstrasse like a sunbeam penetrating a chink in the shutters of a dark room. It is not broad daylight, there are heavy shadows enough still; any one who happens to pass a looking-glass starts at the dim reflection of his own sad face; and people move carefully so as not to stumble, and speak with bated breath for fear of what may yet be hidden in the darkness. But still they move and speak; there is no longer the former silent darkness with all its terrors. Hardly a week had gone by, then, before the bright, talkative little girl had become the favourite of one and all. The General, who had almost entirely shut himself up in his own room lately, now spent a few hours every evening, as he used to do, with the rest of the family, unless, as had happened several times already, they were going out. He allowed himself to be instructed by Meta in agricultural matters, in which she declared herself to be an authority even with her papa--and that was saying a great deal--and permitted her to question him as to "what a battle really was like?" "Did Moltke sometimes yawn when it lasted too long?" and "Might a lieutenant wear varnished boots in battle?" "It makes me shudder when I hear it all, Elsa; your friend is quite an _enfant terrible_," said Sidonie; but was calmed and consoled at once when Meta expressed the greatest interest in her "Court Etiquette," and declared that it was a very different sort of thing from Strummin etiquette. One found oneself always in the best society with highnesses and serene highnesses; and if one did sometimes come down to the backstairs, in her eyes a page of the backstairs was a person highly to be respected. "She really has very considerable talents," said Sidonie, "and a great desire for instruction. I have given her the first part of Malortie's 'High Chamberlain;' you might read it aloud together for half an hour this evening, instead of chattering till two o'clock in the morning. Heaven only knows what you find to talk about!" Even Ottomar, who since his engagement was hardly ever seen at home--"He is not with us," said Carla--appeared again now, if he knew that his father would not be there, and made so merry with the mischievous girl, "that it cuts one to the heart," thought Elsa. The servants even were enchanted with the strange young lady. Ottomar's man protested that she would suit the Lieutenant ten times better; the lady's-maid praised her because one could at any rate quarrel with her, which was quite impossible with Fräulein Elsa; and August said she was A 1.