say, but at the present time she lacked both the desire and the strength
to realise it.

For a time each remained absorbed by individual grief. Then the father
drew both girls to his heart and confessed that, with their mother's
death life, already impoverished by the loss of his only son, had been
bereft of its last charm. His most ardent desire was to be summoned soon
to follow the departed ones.

Els summoned up her courage and asked: "And we--are we nothing to you,
father?"

Surprised by this rebuke, he started, removed his wet handkerchief from
his eyes, and answered: "Yes, yes--but the old do not reckon Ay, much is
left to me. But he who is robbed of his best possession easily forgets
the good things remaining, and good you both are."

He kissed his daughter lovingly as he spoke, as if wishing to retract the
words which had wounded her; then gazing at the still face of the dead,
he said: "Before you dress her, leave her alone with me for a time----
There is a wild turmoil here and here"--he pointed to his breast and
brow--"and yet The last hours----There is so much to settle and consider
in a future without her With her, with her dear calm features before my
eyes----"

Here a fresh outburst of grief stifled his voice; but Els pointed to the
image of the Virgin on the wall and beckoned to her sister.

Wholly engrossed by her own sorrow, Eva had scarcely heeded her father's
words, and now impetuously refused to leave her mother. Herr Ernst,