Several summers had passed since that dramatic meeting on the _Schiller_, and these swiftly flying, monotonous years, had left their mark upon Les Plans and its belongings. One fine spring morning Mordi, the queen of cows, had been driven from the orchard by a strange man,--a butcher from Lucerne. In his company, Mordi took her first and last trip upon the familiar lake, and her comrades knew her no more. Karo, the farm’s brown and white guardian, had recently died, suddenly and mysteriously. He was found at his post, the entrance door, stiff and stark. Jan Jost was more bent and rheumatic than formerly; his wife more wrinkled and shrewish; but naturally the most remarkable change was to be seen in the two young people, Fritz and Mitli. Fritz at twenty-three was well educated, and well thought of,--especially by farmers with daughters, on account of his prospects; by the daughters, because of his celebrated prowess in sports, his handsome face, and lithe activity. Since his course at Zurich was finished, Fritz had lived at home, helping somewhat fitfully to work Les Plans. His mother seemed a little grimmer and more taciturn,--indeed, her manner was occasionally forbidding,--always working--or always knitting, with unceasing fury, and always keeping her thoughts to herself;--these, were chiefly occupied by her son, and Mitli. Mitli, in her seventeenth year, was tall and fully developed; she looked older than her age, and beyond a flawless complexion, ropes of yellow hair, and a pair of gay blue eyes, was not endowed with the usual attributes of ‘sweet seventeen.’ She took after the Blagdons in figure and character, and was of a determined, masterful, and restless disposition. Her intellectual faculties were dull; she evinced no taste for literature or reading, beyond the daily paper, _Le Monde Amusant_, and sundry and various French novels. As for her mother’s pursuits, needlework, music, and gardening, she hated them impartially; sewing tried her eyes, gardening gave her a backache, music was a bore. Tennis, dancing, skating were more to her taste. She rowed on the lake, and climbed the hills with Fritz, and accepted his love, his homage, and his gifts, with radiant complacency. Such was Cara!