reproach.

"I do not need, my child. Your life is written in your face." The
grandmother spoke again to the vintner. "So you will take her away from
me?"

"Will it be necessary?" he returned quietly. "Have you any objection to
my becoming your foster grandchild, such as Gretchen is?"

The old woman made no answer. She closed her eyes and did not open them.
Gretchen motioned that this was a sign that the interview was ended. But
as he rose to his feet there was a sound outside. A carriage had
stopped. Some one opened the door and began to climb the stairs. The
noise ceased only when the visitor reached the top landing. Then all
became still again.

"There is something strange going on up there," said Gretchen in a
whisper.

"In what way?" asked the vintner in like undertones.

"Three times a veiled lady has called at night, three times a man
muffled up so one could not see his face."

"Let us not question our twenty-crowns rent, Gretchen," interrupted the
grandmother, waking. "So long as no one is disturbed, so long as the
police are not brought to our door, it is not our affair. Leopold,
Gretchen, give me your hands." She placed them one upon the other, then
spread out her hands above their heads. "The Holy Mother bring happiness
and good luck to you, Gretchen."