Cilia pushed her hat straight on her beautiful fair hair, and stared fixedly at the school-door with a more vivid red on her red cheeks: the bell would soon ring--then he would come rushing out--then--. All at once she saw the boy's mother. She? Frau Schlieben was approaching the door with quick steps. Oh dear! A few quick bounds brought her behind a bush: did she intend fetching her Wolfgang herself to-day? Oh, then she would have to go. And she stole away to the station, full of grief. The joy that had made her heart beat had all disappeared; but she still had one consolation: Wolfgang would not forget her. No, never! Wolfgang was much surprised to see his mother. Surely he need not be fetched? She had never done that herself before. He was disagreeably impressed. Was he a baby? The others would make fun of him. He felt very indignant, but his mother's kindness disarmed him. She was specially tender that day, and very talkative. She inquired about everything they had been doing at school, she did not even scold when he confessed he had had ten faults in his Latin composition; on the contrary, she promised he should make an excursion to Schildhorn that afternoon. It was such a beautiful, sunny autumn day, almost like summer. The boy sauntered along beside her, quite content, dangling his books at the end of the long strap. He had quite forgotten for the moment that Cilia was to leave that day. But when they came home and the strange maid answered the door, he opened his eyes wide, and when they sat down at table and the new girl with the pointed face, who did not look at all like a servant, brought in the dishes, he could not contain himself any longer. "Where's Cilia?" he asked. "She has gone away--you know it," said his mother in a casual tone of voice. "Away?" He turned pale and then crimson. So she had gone without saying good-bye to him! All at once he had no appetite, although he had been so hungry before. Every mouthful choked him; he looked stiffly at his plate--he dared not look up for fear of crying. His parents spoke of this and that--all trivial matters--and a voice within him cried: "Why has she gone without saying good-bye to me?" It hurt him very much. He could not understand it--she was so fond of him. How could she have found it in her heart to go away without letting him know where he could find her? His Cillchen to leave him like that! Oh, she could not have done so--not of her own free will, oh no, no. And just when he was at school. He was seized with a sudden suspicion: he had not thought of such a thing before, but now it was clear to him--oh, he was not so stupid as all that--she had had to go just because he was at school. His mother had never liked Cilia, and she had not wanted her to say good-bye to him. The boy cast angry glances at his mother from under his lowered lashes: that was horrid of her.