“I do not speak of him, but he was my treasure: a darling. When he was three years old he fell out of a window, and was killed before my very eyes. Then, indeed, I would gladly have laid me down and _died_--but here I am! trying to encourage you to rise again and plod along the highway known as Life. If Harry had lived, he would be your age; it is thirty-five years since they closed the coffin-lid upon his little angel face. To add to my agony, my husband declared that the accident was _my_ fault; the child was watching me mounting my horse, he overbalanced, the nurse grabbed at him, but only his sash, remained in her hand.” “How dreadful!” cried her listener with streaming tears. “Yes, dear, you may weep a little for me; but as for yourself, you must dry your tears, and enter upon another life.” It had been mooted on the mountain-side, in farm-houses and cow-houses, that the rosy-cheeked English girl, claimed by a rich father, had forsaken the pretty mother who for thirteen years had toiled for her support. Ah, a _wustus maden_!--(a bad girl). A surprising amount of kindly sympathy was felt and shown; many little farewell gifts were left at the Paradis, addressed to ‘Frau Glyn,’ and one afternoon Letty nerved herself to ascend to Les Plans, for the last time, in order to take leave of its inmates. There they were, all ready to welcome her! the Josts, Freda, the Frau herself, and a new dog--another Karo. In the low-roofed sitting-room, when Letty and Frau Hurter were alone, she said: “All my little things here, my chair, and lace pillow, work-basket, harmonium, and tea-service I hope you will accept.” “But, _mein liebe Frau_, I never sew or play tunes. I am old, and my fingers are like wood.” “Fritz’s wife will be young?” “Fritz--_ach ye!_ He _knows_. My cousin writes he is as mad, and off his head; he says he goes to America, he cannot live here, ever--without _her_. The boy comes to say good-bye in two days, and then we are forsaken--you and I, by those for whom we would give the life’s blood.” “He will get over it, dear Frau. Fritz is so young. Ask him to come and talk to me, and I will do my best, to persuade him to stay.” “Yes, it may do good, since he loves you--we can but try,” she paused to wipe her eyes on her apron; “but as for you, dear lady, my heart aches. It seems but yesterday, when you stood out there in the garden in the sunshine a _girl_, with Mitli in your arms. What you have been to her ever since, the good God, and I, alone know. Now she has deserted you; try and put her away from your thoughts.--You are still young, you have your own life.” “I am going to make another home; but what can replace a _child_?” cried Letty, rising as she spoke. “I want to see her room, and settle about her things.” “Her room is dusted and in order, otherwise as she left it. We will go there now,” and Frau Hurter climbed the stairs, and threw open the door into an empty chamber.