orderly life. The lady needed an assistant who, now that it was hard for
her to stoop, would inspect the linen closets, manage the poultry yard-
her pride--and keep an eye on the children when they came to visit their
grandmother. So she instantly accompanied Lienhard to the tavern, and
Kuni pleased her. But it would have been difficult not to feel some
degree of sympathy for the charming young creature who, in great
embarrassment, yet joyously as though released from a heavy burden,
raised her large blue eyes to the kind stranger.

It was cold in the street, and as Kuni had come out without any wrap,
Frau Schurstab, in her friendly consideration, shortened the, conference.
Lienhard Uroland had helped her with a few words, and when the sedan
chair and the young Councillor moved down the street all the necessary
details were settled. The vagrant had bound herself and assumed duties,
though they were very light ones. She was to move that evening into the
distinguished widow's house, not as a servant, but as the old lady's
assistant.

Loni, the manager of the company of rope-dancers, had watched the
negotiations from the taproom. During their progress each of the three
windows was filled with heads, but no one had been able to hear what was
whispered in the street. Just as the curious spectators were hoping that
now they might perhaps guess what the aristocratic lady wanted with Kuni,
the sedan chair began to move, and the young girl entered the hot room to
tell Loni that she would leave the company that day forever.

"In-de-e-ed?" Loni asked in astonishment, lifting the gold circlet which
rested on his head. Then he passed his hand through the coal-black hair
which, parted in the middle, fell in smooth strands upon his neck, and
exerted all his powers of persuasion to convince her of the folly of her