Whether or not her father returned, his work, his immortal work, must never be allowed to sink into oblivion. Awaiting its summons to life the score of the Song of Songs still lay asleep in Lilly's locked trunk. But its sleep was no longer so sound, so dreamless as in the years just gone by. It began to stir and moan. It gave out a humming and ringing which echoed through the day's work and crooned in Lilly's sleep, causing chords and melodies to sound when she least expected them. From the blue hills beyond which the sun set in flames came a soft strain as if blown by evening winds: "How beautiful are thy feet in sandals, O prince's daughter!" And out of the dark depths of the fabulous woods fluttered fragments of songs of the rose of Sharon and the lily of the valley. It was almost as if invisible little beings were singing who led a pleasant existence inside those bright-windowed pasteboard huts. Like Lilly herself the whole world would some day have a share in the treasure whose guardian fate had destined her to be. Wherever she went or stood, whatever she did or thought, from all corners hopes came dancing forth, beckoning and smiling. A new, larger, purer existence was now to begin. The ends of that golden thread which her insane mother had cut in two with the bread knife, had been tied together again, and drew her upward, upward. She had divinations of something sacred which gave forth blessings, something to be prayed for and struggled for. A few more months and it would all come to pass. A piece of good fortune seldom comes unaccompanied by another; and so it happened that--miracle of miracles!--her betrothed gave a sign of life. It was one of the first days in September between eleven and twelve o'clock in the morning when Mr. Dehnicke appeared at her door without having announced his coming. Lilly was not completely dressed, and refused at first to see him in. However, he was so insistent that the business on which he had come was extremely important, that she did not venture to dismiss him, and offering a thousand excuses she received him in her matinée. He let a shy glance of admiration travel over her, and then drew a broad, strange-looking piece of paper from his pocket, which proved to be a check on the Lincoln and Ohio Bank for two thousand and some odd marks. "What shall I do with it?" asked Lilly. "Read the letter it came enclosed in," he replied unfolding a large sheet. "Mr. Richard Dehnicke, Dear Sir," was informed that Mr. Walter von Prell had deposited five hundred dollars to be paid over to Baroness Lilly von Mertzbach. Lilly was shaken by a storm of gratitude. She ran up and down the room pressing her handkerchief to her eyes. _She_ had wanted to provide for him, and now _he_ was providing for _her_. Suddenly she was fairly overwhelmed by a feeling of distrust. She came to a standstill, and looked from the check to Mr. Dehnicke and back at the check again. Both were wrapped in silence.