"We must go up to see Uncle Titus and Aunt Ninette this afternoon, Dora."
And as they slowly climbed the steep staircase, he would add, "Softly now,
little Dora, you know your Uncle is always writing very learned books, and
we must not disturb him by any unnecessary noise, and indeed, Dora, I do
not think your Aunt is any more fond of noise than he is."

So Dora went up upon the tips of her toes as quietly as a mouse, and the
Major's ring could scarcely be heard, he pulled the bell so gently!
Generally Aunt Ninette opened the door herself, saying,

"Come in, come in, dear brother! Very softly, if you please, for you know
your brother-in-law is busy at work."

So the three moved noiselessly along the corridor and crept into the
sitting room. Uncle Titus' study was the very next room, so that the
conversation was carried on almost in whispers, but it must be said Major
Falk was less liable to forget the necessary caution against disturbing
the learned writer than Aunt Ninette herself, for that lady being
oppressed with many cares and troubles had always to break into frequent
lamentation.

When June came, it was safe and pleasant to linger late under the shade of
the lindens, but the pair in whom we are interested often turned their
steps homeward earlier than they wished, in order not to arouse Aunt
Ninette's ever-ready reproaches. But one warm evening when the sky was
covered with rosy and golden sunset clouds, the Major and Dora lingered
watching the lovely sight longer than was their wont. They sat silent hand
in hand on the bench by the side of the promenade, and Dora could not take
her eyes from her father's face as he sat with upturned look gazing into