The road lay on this side of the river, but passed through Wengern and close by the ferry. Two sleighs belonging to distinguished company had just been deposited here as he came up, and he heard the music of their bells as they rattled on ahead of him. He would have known the tone of the Uhlenfelde sleigh-bells amongst a thousand, and he was satisfied that they were not amongst these. Would she be there? Would she be there? And he stretched himself, for he was stiff and cramped with suspense. But when he reached the stables certainty awaited him. There stood the Kletzingks' old Wilhelm, touching his cap to him with the familiar grin which is permissible from the servants of a friendly house. It occurred to him that, after all, Ulrich might have come too, and the thought filled him with alarm. He would have liked to ask, but an undefinable feeling of shame stifled the words in his throat. Then he slowly walked to the house. The castle of Stoltenhof to-night resembled a camp. The hall was arranged with booths and refreshment-stalls like a fair, and civil and military uniforms moved about in the gay throng. The officers of both the Münsterberg and Wartenstein-Uhlan regiments were everywhere very active, rendering the assistance which seemed too much for the legs of the more deliberate country "junkers." Leo was met by his host, whose copper-coloured countenance, with its record of past pleasures, was beaming with good-humour and self-satisfaction. "Ha! so you have ventured out of your shell," was his shrill greeting. "Come along, come along, they are breaking their hearts for you in the salon." "Are your boys there?" Leo asked, longing, but not daring, to inquire for Ulrich. "Of course! Of course! The young dogs are all there, the whole boiling lot laying siege to your fair cousin." "Cousin! What cousin?" "Why, your cousin Felicitas, naturally; you lucky beggar." Leo was only too glad to forget the relationship. The reminder of it now stabbed him like a knife. "And I can assure you she is in her old form! For a long time she seemed so altered, and made no disguise of being bored--probably she was grieving. But since the reconciliation between your two families she has been herself again." Leo bit his lips. So they were talking about that already. Passing a number of hands outstretched to shake his, he made his way to the door of the salon. Despite its ugly furniture and low smoky ceiling, with a six branched zinc chandelier, it wore a festive aspect to-night, and blossomed like the rose with youth and beauty. A garland of fir boughs, decorated with lights, hid the palisade of famous racers from view, and lent an unwonted grace to the usually severely utilitarian apartment. The fragrance of firs and the shimmer of candle-light gave a flavour of the coming Christmas feast to the whole picture.