Lilly felt she was fairly well able to cope with the situation. She found a few friendly words to reach the hearts of the old and the sick; and when she stooped and drew on her lap a blubbering little urchin a pleased whisper ran before her to smooth her path. At the end of the settlement were two structures originally erected for barns, but later converted into dwellings. Small windows in red and blue frames were set in the walls at irregular intervals, and what had once been the broad entrance had been built up with yellow bricks. Here lived the Polish immigrants, who had come as contract labourers from distant regions. The district in which Lischnitz lay had been German from times of old and had remained a German island amid the invading flood of Slavs. For this reason it was necessary to hold aloft the banner of Germanism, as Miss von Schwertfeger admonished lovingly. And Lilly felt mortified, as though she had been in the habit of disavowing it. Red head cloths gleamed. Great, blue, intimidated eyes prayed to her. Here and there an awed bobbing to the hem of her skirt, a shy attempt to kiss her sleeve. "_Niech bedzie pochwalony Jezus Chrystus_," she heard in a whisper about her, and involuntarily she answered: "_Na wieki wiekow!_ Amen!" In the course of her Catholic bringing up she had learned that this is the answer to a Polish greeting. A glad humming and buzzing, a ripple of happiness ran through the fearsome huddling little group. The lovely young _pana_ had spoken their language, the language of their God. "I had no idea you could speak Polish," said the colonel, his voice grating with blame of her. Lilly gave an embarrassed laugh and explained. They tarried a shorter time at the next entrance, where a group of young fellows in heavy grey jackets were twirling their caps and making awkward bows. Lilly scarcely ventured to give them a cordial nod. Even that, she felt, was forbidden. Miss von Schwertfeger said not a word, but with aquiline nose in the air held aloft the banner of Germanism. "Now, my dear," she said when they reached the castle door, "put on your dark blue cloth dress. I have already had it taken from the trunk and pressed. You will find it in your room, and a lace collar to wear with it. That is the correct thing here for Sunday dinner, which we take in the middle of the day." Lilly obediently donned the blue gown. It enhanced her slim grace. Her heart beat for fear that her merry friend, who could not suspect she had disowned him, would betray both of them at the first meeting by a careless word of recognition. The dinner bell rang and the next instant came those three probing taps on the door. Lilly in alarm started away from the mirror. Miss von Schwertfeger should never discover she was vain. She looked Lilly up and down a while, then grasped both her hands, and buried her pale blue eyes, which now flared up again, in the improbable eyes.