I not know you?' he said, and I laughed a little. 'Herr Baron, do you remember the story of my best black suit?' He looked rather queer and drew his hand across his forehead as if he were wiping something off, and passed on. The next day one of the wardens took me to the Baron's house, and he asked why I was in prison. When he had heard all about it, he sighed and spoke softly to himself and then sighed again. At last he got up and put his hand on my arm. 'You knew her, Franz, and because you knew her------' he could get no further and I was taken away, and soon after pardoned out. So I saw that the Baron remembered my confirmation suit; and ten years after I saw him again in Kiel, in a bath-chair, for he couldn't walk. I went to see him and he sent me ten thalers, and his servant told me he had great trouble with his sons. He is long dead, which is a pity, for he often sent me something. Everything comes to an end, everything. In the morning when I lie in bed and can't sleep, I often think of little Manon who died in my black suit in the midst of the aristocrats, where she didn't belong, and my black suit didn't belong there either. Things never turn out as one expects, never!" End of Project Gutenberg's The Story Of The Little Mamsell, by Charlotte Niese