"The Reichstag separates for the recess either to-morrow or the day after," she answered, "but it is very uncertain whether he will be here by Christmas. He has been chosen president of a committee--for some agricultural exhibition, I believe--and he will be obliged to give up part of the parliamentary recess to arrange matters. He told me to ask you if he should reserve a place for you on the committee, and thinks, for the sake of your reputation, you should accept." Shame kept him silent. Whether from far or near Ulrich's hand was ever held out to him in loving, helpful friendship. He was a fool so to underrate his own strength of mind. Surely Leo Sellenthin could never be capable of the infamy of which he had been standing in such nameless dread? "You will come, won't you?" she implored. "Yes," he answered with prompt decision. "Soon?" "Yes, soon." "To-morrow?" He hesitated. That would look too much like passionate haste. "I am engaged to-morrow at Knutzendorf," he replied. "Beg off!" "No." "Leo!" she urged reproachfully. "Would you have me neglect my duties?" "God forbid. But remember, till you set foot across my threshold, not a minute will go by without my expecting you." The companion ladder was let down. They struck the opposite bank, and the bar crunched on its frozen hinges. "Good-bye!" "Good-bye!" Their hands met in a clinging grasp which it seemed as though only force could separate. Then they let go of each other with a start. He settled her in her seat and wrapped the furs about her. The horse moved on, the bells began to tinkle, and the sleigh melted into the grey distance like a silver phantom. The ferry raft gurgled back into the water, and old Jürgens breathed heavily as he pulled. His steering strings swished in the air like a cat-of-nine-tails. Leo, leaning against the side, listened to the dying echo of the sleigh-bells. The moon was waning. The ice-floes split against the wide keel of the boat. XXX "My Dear Mamma, "Nearly all the boys are going home for Christmas. Erich Froben will stay here because he has no mamma, and Fritz Lawsky because he has only a guardian, and If., who comes from India, and is as yellow as a Gruyére cheese. All the other boys are going home. Why mayn't I come home? Some of them have a longer journey to their homes than I have. Oh, I do want to come home so badly. I cry every morning and every night because I may not come home. There are six days to Christmas now. There is going to be a party, and the boys who stay here for Christmas will get their parcels of presents when the tree is lit up. And a bell is rung, the school bell. If. will get something too; for the Head wrote to his papa, who said he would send his presents over in a ship. Have you got my list of the things I want? Perhaps it has got lost; that would be awful. But I'll write another list to make sure. "List of Presents.