She knew, indeed, that his aim was unerring, and realised for the first time the danger which had hovered over her son. She patted his cheeks, full of anxiety, as if even to-day she might be robbed of him. "You are right; you are right!" she murmured, "I told Felicitas so when she accepted him. He was always a cruel, revengeful character." "Don't abuse him, mother," he said seriously. "He is dead--and when we have had it out once for all, let us leave this ugly story alone for ever. It has cost every one concerned a good slice of their life's happiness. It is time that we buried it." She wiped the tears out of the corners of her eyes and looked once more placid content. "I may talk of Felicitas, I suppose?" she asked. "Why not?" he said undecidedly, and examined his tobacco-stained finger-nails. "What do you think of that marriage?" she broke forth. "Fancy Uli? Who would have thought of such a thing?" "Well, why shouldn't he marry?" "But it was so extraordinary. He,--your best friend." "He has my blessing." Leo spoke abruptly, and was in haste to get on to another topic. "How comes it," he asked, "that your intercourse with Felicitas is entirely over? My--my misfortune with Rhaden was not the reason?" "Oh no, not in the least," she replied. "When you were gone we associated the same as before, for we said to ourselves that we poor women oughtn't to suffer more than was necessary for the men's sake. It told upon us all heavily. I won't speak of myself. Johanna appeared in deep mourning, for she had just buried her husband. Lizzie was so desolate and in need of help, and so we comforted each other. It was not till Lizzie's engagement to Ulrich began to be talked about, that there was an estrangement. I don't know exactly why--for we all congratulated her. But just before the wedding, she and Johanna quarrelled. The reason has never come out, for you know how Johanna can be as silent as the grave. The day it happened Felicitas drove away, deadly pale, without saying good-bye, and has never been here since. Johanna vowed that she would rather die than go to the wedding, and prayed me not to go. And when any one begs me not to do a thing ... well you know----" "Yes, I know, mummy," he said, and caressed her hair compassionately. She had always given in to his strong-willed sister. There was silence. He bit at the ends of his beard and meditated. "Oh, rubbish!" he exclaimed on a sudden, and jumped to his feet. "Be courageous and repent nothing. That is the whole secret of life." "What do you mean, my son?" his mother asked nervously. For answer, he kissed her on the forehead and seized his cap. But at this moment the door opened and a tall, nun-like figure, dressed in unrelieved black, stood on the threshold. He glanced at her quickly, then recoiled. Could this be Johanna? Her beauty, her youth--what had become of them?