Ludo and I were very gay. It was Saturday, and towards evening we were
going to a children's ball given by Privy-Councillor Romberg--the
specialist for nervous diseases--for his daughter Marie, for which new
blue jackets had been made.

We were eagerly expecting them, and about three o'clock the tailor came.

Our mother was present when he tried them on, and when she remarked
that now all was well, the man shook his head, and declared that the
concessions of the forenoon had had no other object than to befool
the people; that would appear before long.

While I write, it seems as if I saw again that poor little bearer of the
first evil tidings, and heard once more the first shots which interrupted
his prophecy with eloquent confirmation.

Our mother turned pale.

The tailor folded up his cloth and hurried away. What did his words
mean, and what was the firing outside?

We strained our ears to listen. The noise seemed to grow louder and
come nearer; and, just as our mother cried, "For Heaven's sake, Martha!"
the cook burst into the room, exclaiming, "The row began in the
Schlossplatz!"

Fraulein Lamperi shrieked, seized her bonnet and cloak, and the pompadour
which she took with her everywhere, to hurry home as fast as she could.

Our mother could think only of Martha. She had dined at the Baeyers' and