The door was opened to him by Mrs.Vivian's maid-servant, a sturdy daughter of the Schwartzwald, who informed him that the ladies--with much regret--were unable to receive any one.
"They are very busy--and they are ill," said the young woman, by way of explanation.
Bernard was disappointed, and he felt like arguing the case.
"Surely," he said, "they are not both ill and busy! When you make excuses, you should make them agree with each other." The Teutonic soubrette fixed her round blue eyes a minute upon the patch of blue sky revealed to her by her open door.
"I say what I can, lieber Herr.

It 's not my fault if I 'm not so clever as a French mamsell.

One of the ladies is busy, the other is ill.

There you have it." "Not quite," said Bernard.

"You must remember that there are three of them." "Oh, the little one--the little one weeps." "Miss Evers weeps!" exclaimed Bernard, to whom the vision of this young lady in tears had never presented itself.
"That happens to young ladies when they are unhappy," said the girl; and with an artless yet significant smile she carried a big red hand to the left side of a broad bosom.
"I am sorry she is unhappy; but which of the other ladies is ill ?" "The mother is very busy." "And the daughter is ill ?" The young woman looked at him an instant, smiling again, and the light in her little blue eyes indicated confusion, but not perversity.
"No, the mamma is ill," she exclaimed, "and the daughter is very busy.
They are preparing to leave Baden." "To leave Baden?
When do they go ?" "I don't quite know, lieber Herr; but very soon." With this information Bernard turned away.