aught, it would be better to fail before her aunt than in the
presence of her uncle. When she had resolved, she waited yet
another minute or two, and then she went down-stairs.

As she entered her aunt's room George Voss was sitting before the
stove, while Madame Voss was in her accustomed chair, and Peter was
preparing the table for his young master's dinner. George arose
from his seat at once, and then came a look of pain across his face.
Marie saw it at once, and almost loved him the more because he
suffered. 'I am so glad to see you, George,' she said. 'I am so
glad that you have come.'

She had offered him her hand, and of course he had taken it. 'Yes,'
he said, 'I thought it best just to run over. We shall be very busy
at the hotel before long.'

'Does that mean to say that you are not to be here for my marriage?'
This she said with her sweetest smile, making all the effort in her
power to give a gracious tone to her voice. It was better, she
knew, to plunge at the subject at once.

'No,' said he. 'I shall not be here then.'

'Ah,--your father will miss you so much! But if it cannot be, it is
very good of you to come now. There would have been something sad
in going away from the old house without seeing you once more. And
though Colmar and Basle are very near, it will not be the same as in
the dear old home;--will it, George?' There was a touch about her
voice as she called him by his name, that nearly killed him. At
that moment his hatred was strongest against Adrian. Why had such