"The pastor used to say that of my father," said Philip, flushing high at the unexpected praise. "He said that Providence designed him for an artist, and that he ought to leave his forge and go to the city to study." "And what said your father?" "He answered merrily that when Providence had given a man a good trade and a young family, it had given him two things which were meant to be kept together," answered Philip. "My father was the best blacksmith and wheelwright in all the country round. If he had been here, the landgrave's horse would not have spoiled the hunt by falling lame the other day." Count Maurice smiled. He had a shrewd notion that the landgrave's superstitious dread of the ill omen involved in meeting the funeral had quite as much to do with breaking off the hunt as the lameness of his horse, which nobody perceived but himself. But he said nothing; and Gertrude having finished her simple preparations, Count Victor was called, and the two brothers satisfied her by making a hearty meal. "Well, what did your friend the preacher say to you?" asked Maurice of his brother as they were walking homeward. "Something pleasant, to judge by your face." "Much that was pleasant," answered Victor, "but chiefly he echoed your advice—that I should study the Bible and let alone the works of men for a while.—Maurice, I wondered this morning what had brought us to this place. I think I know now." That evening Gertrude called her children about her and explained her plan fully to them. A new prospect had opened before her, a new hope arisen in her mind, which made her feel again some of the spring and energy of youth, before misfortune after misfortune had crushed her to the earth. She had heard that in America there was room for every one who wished to work; that many Germans had gone thither already and were prospering; that there were schools and churches and no one to impose arbitrary taxes or carry men away from their families and sell their blood for money. "It is a good land, and many of our countrymen are there already. We will save what money we can for a year or two, sell what we have here, and go thither." Margaret's face brightened for a moment, and then fell again. "But if my father should come back and find us gone?" said she. "We cannot make any move for two or three years yet," answered her mother. "By that time, we shall have certain news one way or other. The count says every one believes that the war will come to an end before long, and that the Americans are sure to win. We shall need to work hard and save money. We will buy back our cows and—But this is not the time to speak of business," she added, checking herself. "We will talk it all over to-morrow." "Are you not pleased with the thought of going to America?" said Margaret to Philip as they went to take a last look at the hens and to see that all was secure.