"Oh, papa," said she, "I have discovered who the lady is whom you got to
bring me the flowers. And see! she has given me this strange little
locket. Look at the inscription--'_From Natalie to Natalushka_.'"

Lind only glanced at the locket. His eyes were fixed on the girl.

"Where did you see the--the lady?" he asked, coldly.

"In the Park. But she did not stay a moment, or speak; she hurried on,
and Anneli thought she was crying. I almost think so too. Who was it,
papa? May I speak to her, if I see her again?"

Mr. Lind turned aside for a moment. Brand, who was narrowly watching
him, was convinced that the man was in a passion of rage. But when he
turned again he was outwardly calm.

"You will do nothing of the kind, Natalie," he said in measured tones.
"I have warned you before against making indiscriminate acquaintances;
and Anneli, if she is constantly getting such stupidities into her head,
must be sent about her business. I do not wish to hear anything more
about it. Will you ring and ask why tea has not been sent up?"

The girl silently obeyed. Her father had never spoken to her in this
cold, austere tone before. She sat down at a small table, apart.

Mr. Lind talked for a minute or two with his guests; then he said,

"Natalie, you have the zither there; why do you not play us something?"

She turned to the small instrument, and, after a second or two, played a