red with tears, were fixed on the shells with which the path was strewn,
and she was using her long ruler, at first to stir them about, and then
to write the words: "Paula," and "Paula, Mary's darling," in large
capital letters. Now and again a butterfly, following the motion of the
rod, brought a smile to her pretty little face from which the dark spirit
"Trouble" had not wholly succeeded in banishing gladness. Still, her
heart was heavy. Everything around her, in the garden and in the house,
was still; for her grandfather's state had become seriously worse at
sunrise, and every sound must be hushed. Mary was thinking of the poor
sufferer: what pain he had to bear, and how the parting from Paula would
grieve him, when Katharina came towards her down the path.

The young girl did little credit to-day to her nickname of "the water-
wagtail;" her little feet shuffled through the shelly gravel, her head
hung wearily, and when one of the myriad insects, that were busy in the
morning sunshine, came within her reach she beat it away angrily with her
fan. As she came up to Mary she greeted her with the usual "All
hail!" but the child only nodded in response, and half turning her back
went on with her inscription.

Katharina, however, paid no heed to this cool reception, but said in
sympathetic tones:

"Your poor grandfather is not so well, I hear?" Mary shrugged her
shoulders.

"They say he is very dangerously ill. I saw Philippus himself."

"Indeed?" said Mary without looking up, and she went on writing.