``I supposed she was going to marry him.''

Sophie became very uneasy indeed. ``It don't often turn out that
way,'' she said in a voice that was evidently concealing
something--apparently an ugly rent in the character of her
friend.

Walpurga Hunneker opened her eyes wide. ``You don't mean--'' she
exclaimed. And, as Sophie looked still more confused,

``Well, I THOUGHT so! Gracious! Her pride must have had a fall.
No wonder she looks so disturbed.''

``Poor Hilda!'' said Sophie mournfully. Then she looked at
Walpurga in a frightened way as if she had been betrayed into
saying too much.

Walpurga spent a busy evening among her confidantes, with the
result that the next day the neighborhood was agitated by
gossip--insinuations that grew bolder and bolder, that had sprung
from nowhere, but pointed to Hilda's sad face as proof of their
truth. And on the third day they had reached Otto's mother. Not
a detail was lacking--even the scene between Hilda and her father
was one of the several startling climaxes of the tale. Mrs.
Heilig had been bitterly resentful of Hilda's treatment of her
son, and she accepted the story--it was in such perfect harmony
with her expectations from the moment she heard of Mr.
Feuerstein. In the evening, when he came home from the shop, she
told him.