Beside the old man and the young girl, there were two other women,
one evidently the housekeeper, the other possibly the cook. The
latter was weeping openly and devoutly kissing the hand of her
mistress. The housekeeper discovered that a rug was missing and
sent the maid back for it, while the old servant helped the lady
into the carriage. The door of the carriage was wide open and
Muller had a good glimpse of the pale, sweet-faced and
delicate-looking young women who leaned back in her corner,
shivering and evidently ill. The servants bustled about, making
her comfortable, while her husband superintended the work with
anxious tenderness. He was a tall, fine-looking man with deep-set
grey eyes and a rich, sympathetic voice. He gave his orders to
his servants with calm authority, but he also was evidently
suffering from the disease of our century - nervousness, for
Muller saw that the man's hands clenched feverishly and that his
lips were trembling under his drooping moustache.

The maid hastened down with the rug and spread it over her
mistress's knees, as the gentleman exclaimed nervously: "Do
hurry with that! Do you want us to miss the train?"

The butler closed the door of the carriage, the coachman gathered
up the reins and raised his whip. The housekeeper bowed low and
murmured a few words in farewell and the other servants followed
her example with tears in their eyes. "You'll see us again in
six weeks," the lady called out and her husband added: "If all
goes well." Then he motioned to the waiting driver and the
carriage moved off swiftly, turning the corner in a few moments.