Hertha felt a sudden collapse of her heart-strings. She had to make energetic demands on her courage to be able to proceed. "Can't it happen, dear grandmamma, that some one who isn't married to us, can get into his head ..." "Hertha," interrupted the old lady, "look me straight in the eyes and tell me if you have been reading a forbidden book." "How could I, grandmamma?" "What are you reading now?" "Oh, a yarn that Meta Podewyl lent me." "We say story, not yarn. Who wrote it?" "Felix Dahn." "And what is it about?" "I hardly know. Some one is always being stabbed dead by some one else. Some of them come to life again, and some of them are buried. There's no harm in that." "No, certainly there is no harm in that," thought grandmamma; and then she said, "Don't come to me with such stupid questions again, child ... you are too young by far to understand such things. And now give me a kiss, and take your crochet." So another plan had failed. Yet Hertha went on wondering how she was to solve the dark mystery with which her jealous heart was so blindly grappling. The same day at dinner Leo made the unexpected proposal of rowing her and Elly over to the Isle of Friendship. He knew how long Hertha had cherished the wish to see with her own eyes the romantic spot, and thought that by giving her her desire he would improve the relations between them, which, he didn't know why, seemed to grow more strained from day to day. But Hertha slightly curled her lips and remarked, "Many thanks; when I care to visit the island, I will row myself over." "You'll try again?" he laughed. "Yes, why not? There are two boats there now, and you can't want more than one at a time when you happen to be visiting Uhlenfelde." There was something in her pronunciation of the last few words which vexed and irritated him. "Nevertheless, my dear child," he replied, "I must ask you kindly to refrain from any more mad escapades; there really is no necessity for you periodically to rouse the neighbourhood." "I promise you that I shall give you no further ground for complaint on that score," she made answer with quivering lips. He nodded, immediately pacified, and grandmamma changed the topic to household matters. Towards sunset, when Leo mounted his mare, Hertha, watching him from the garden, felt all the annoyance and antagonism of the evening before awake in her again. She would have liked to throw herself on the grass and tear up the sod with her fingers. It was true that he rode out in the direction of Wengern, but Hertha had little doubt that he intended to make a _détour_ the quicker to reach the stream. "Oh, if only I knew whether that could be so!" she thought, and gnashed her teeth. Then she was seized with a brilliant idea.