"There, we have it," said Frau Baronin Fuchs, to her husband, "gorgeous fireworks for their wedding! It is lucky that the dead cannot speak; that poor burned child who was drawn out of the flames, and probably set the place on fire, doubtlessly omitted to protest, in time, against the banns, and thus, in her fashion, made up for it on the wedding day. Of course she was a forsaken lover! The one loses her life in water the other in fire! Who knows which elements, those who remain may select, for naturally they have not come to an end yet. There was so much love-making in that community that it would be a school for a whole life-time!" But not only to her husband, everywhere on the neighbouring estates, wherever her dapple-greys carried the clear-sighted Frau Baronin of firm morals, she uttered, with triumphant eloquence, her unpleasing belief in the just punishment that had befallen this knight of the rueful countenance. Outlaw and excommunication rested once again upon the master of those estates, and many crossed themselves when they spoke of the fire at Kulmitten Castle, of the ruins of the old nest of the Order, as the happy possessors of brand-new knightly castles contemptuously termed it, and of the Signora, who, out of the depths of the theatre, had risen to such a height, and whose family in the Apennines probably drove mules, or were even related to Fra Diavolo and other bandits of noble descent. One day a young married couple were announced, Dr. Sperner and his wife. The principals of the school from the provincial capital, were making a tour of visits to the parents of their pupils, and hoping thus to obtain new ones. Dr. Sperner's moustache was a sign-board that did its duty. He still possessed the key to the mothers' hearts although it was now discreetly hidden by him in the key-basket of conjugal bliss. Lori had married soon after Blanden, whose conquest she had certainly only contemplated in daring dreams, was irretrievably lost. On that evening, in the theatre, on which the Doctor had distinguished himself by the active part he had taken in punishing the immoral _prima donna_, he had quite won Lori's heart; the schoolmistress' pride melted like snow in March, nothing remained but the little girl, who gladly gave herself into the strong man's keeping. There was an end of the commanding and dictating Fräulein. Lori stepped down from the lofty pedestal, upon which she had placed herself with such dignity, and acknowledged her master in him, who, shortly before, had declared himself to be her white slave. Now the plantation belonged to them both, and the world maintained that it was Lori who had become the white slave. Sperner possessed all the qualifications for a despot, and it was in vain that she prepared to defend herself against his vigorous energy with the pin-pricks of her wit. Yet she could still occasionally celebrate tiny triumphs with it when the Doctor, in one or the other of