Jean flashed an indignant glance after her.
"She might have told me that he gave himself! Surely the man counts for something! Anyhow, rank like his is not smirched by poverty or trade.

Bismarck himself brews beer." "Your temper is contradictory to-day," said Clara coldly.

"Did you know," she said presently, "that the princesses will be at the Countess von Amte's to-morrow ?" "Then we shall meet them!" cried Jean.

"Then something will be settled." Lucy locked the door of her chamber after her.

She found much comfort in the tiny bare room with its white walls and blue stove, and the table where lay her worn Bible and a picture of her old home.