On the 8th of August we started for a new trip, and went _viâ_ Laibach to Veldes, _viâ_ Radmannsdorf. Veldes consists of a lake, with a few houses around, chiefly people's villas, and a very comfortable inn (Mallner's). It is a lovely spot, but rather shut in. This place has its little romance. We rowed about two hours in a boat to a small island in the middle of the lake. On the island is a little church, and the house of a peasant family who keep the church. In the church is a long rope, by which you ring a bell (a big church bell); it is called the "wishing bell." You kneel down and wish for something, and pray for it, and then you get up and ring the bell. If you have several wishes, they say you are sure to get the first. After I had finished, Richard rowed off to a spring, and I went and visited the people. There was an old man of ninety, his daughter, her daughter, and a baby--four generations. After talking to them for some time, I noticed a little carved wooden figure of Death with a scythe, and I said, "Oh, do you know, there is something in this little cottage that I rather envy you." "What is that?" said the old man. I said, "That death figure." "Why," he said, "ladies are generally frightened of that;" but he added, "I could not part with that. My grandfather carved it when he was a boy. I am over ninety; it must have been there for a hundred and fifty years. We have a superstition that it keeps us alive to a great old age." I said, "Pray excuse me; I had no idea that it had any importance attached to it, or I would not have noticed it." And I turned the conversation to other things; but when I got up to go, he said, "What did you mean to give me for that death's head?" I said, "Why, hardly anything--perhaps a couple of florins; you must forget that I said such a thing." "Oh no," he said, "I could not afford to lose so much money as that." So the end of it was that I gave him five florins, and brought away the skeleton, and we were both delighted, and I mean to leave it when I die to the person whose life is most important to the country. Now, Richard was absent without leave from F.O., but of course he never left without the Consulate being in the charge of the Vice-Consul, and all money affairs settled. We were dreadfully frightened of meeting any one we knew. Think of our horror when we saw coming into the restaurant the Chaplain of the Embassy at Vienna--our Chief's Chaplain! Fortunately, the Rev. G. L. Johnston was one of the most charming and gentlemanly men I ever saw. Richard bolted up to bed; but I thought it would be wiser to take the bull by the horns, so I went up to him, and confided our difficulty to him. He burst out laughing, and said, "My dear child, I am just doing exactly the same thing myself." I ran upstairs and fetched Richard down again.