ON the following evening, Sara, when she arrived at the Wilhelmis’, found a large, gay party assembled, consisting chiefly of those who had distinguished themselves in the _lebenden_ _Bildern_ the night before, or who had given useful service in preparing them. Sara was almost shocked to recognise, amongst others, little Frau Goldmark, for whose benefit the entertainment had been given. To her intense nature it appeared strange and even indecorous that the young widow should present herself in this sparkling mixed company—under the circumstances. Certainly she did not put herself forward; she sat on an ottoman, in a rather retired corner, from which she did not move, and those who desired to have speech of her could do so by going and talking to her. Sara found herself near her during the evening, and, at the moment, no one else was close to them. She turned and spoke to her, wishing her good-evening rather gravely. Indeed, since yesterday afternoon, she had felt grave, though by no means sad. She had reflected upon Falkenberg’s strictures, and the more she thought upon the subject the more convinced she was that he had spoken the words of justice—of truth and soberness. ‘Ah, Miss Ford!’ exclaimed Frau Goldmark, effusively, ‘how very much I have to thank you for!’ ‘Do not mention it, Frau Goldmark. What little I could do, I did with great pleasure; and I am very glad if it succeeded.’ ‘_Ach, ungeheuer!_’ cried she, using an exaggerated expression not beloved of Sara, who wondered more and more that the little woman had not had the sense to remain at home—‘_Ungeheuer!_ it will be a small fortune to me. It is entirely your influence, of course, _liebes Fräulein_, which has induced Herr Falkenberg to be so generous. And I, who had been thinking that the picture was only so much buried capital, that never would be realised!’ ‘I am afraid I don’t understand you,’ said Sara, becoming conscious that some event of which she knew nothing was alluded to, and aware, too, of a disagreeably significant meaning in the smile with which Frau Goldmark looked at her. ‘But you must know surely that, yesterday morning, Herr Falkenberg went straight to the _Ausstellung_, where my husband’s picture hung, and that he bought it—bought it then and there; and when Herr Lohe of the _Ausstellung_ said that it was a fine picture, Herr Falkenberg replied that to anyone who had seen Miss Ford in that character the night before, it could not fail to be a fine picture. Now, what do you think?’ Frau Goldmark laughed, never having imagined that she would have the good fortune to be the first to communicate this news to Miss Ford. The reply surprised and appalled her. ‘I think your information most uncalled for, and that, if true, it is not of the slightest importance to me,’ replied the young lady, raising her head to its utmost height, and, without deigning another word, walking away.