The pastor in the pulpit had seen Erick rush into church.  He now looked again in that direction, and noticed the little chap, how he sat there on the empty bench, so forsaken, his head resting on his arm.  The pastor now walked behind the last of the congregation toward the bench.  He stepped into the pew and put his hand on Erick’s shoulder and asked kindly:  “Why are you weeping so hard, my boy?”

“Because—­because—­because they sang Mother’s song,” sobbed Erick.

“What is your name?” the pastor asked again.

“Erick Dorn,” was the answer.

Now the pastor knew what to do.  He took the boy’s hand in his fatherly hand, pulled him down from the high bench and said:  “Come with me, my boy!”

At the parsonage the three children stood waiting for the father’s return, as they did every Sunday.  Sally had not said a word since they had left church; now she came close to her mother and said, quite excited:  “Please, please, Mamma, may I go now at once to Kaetheli?  I have to talk over something with her, really I must.”

Sally had made up her mind to go out into the vineyards to look for Erick, but she did not know the way, so Kaetheli was to go with her.  But the mother opposed Sally’s urging and said:  “You know, dear, that we have dinner at once, and father does not allow such running away on Sunday.  There he comes now.  Who is the little boy whose hand he is holding?”

Sally uttered a loud shout of joy and tore away.  “Oh, Erick! you are not burnt!” she cried, beside herself with joy, when she now saw Erick before her with his abundant curls and bright eyes.

“Of course not,” said Erick, politely lifting his little cap and offering his hand to her, a little surprised, for he did not know when he could have burned himself.  Quickly she took his hand and so the three met the surprised mother who, however, at the sight of Erick, guessed at once who the fine boy in the velvet jacket was.  She greeted him lovingly and stroked his tear-stained eyes and flushed cheeks.

Sally would have liked to ask at once how all had happened, and would have urged him to tell everything; but when she saw how he must have wept, she shrank from enquiring and held his hand quietly.  Edi and Ritz also noticed at once the traces of tears and greeted him quite calmly.

The pastor left his family to go to his room and the mother took his place and conducted Erick, whom Sally on the other side held firmly by the hand, up the stairs; Ritz and Edi followed.  When ’Lizebeth, who was standing in the kitchen door, saw the procession come and noticed that the mother held the little stranger so tenderly by his hand, as though he were her own small Ritz, then ’Lizebeth at once shut the kitchen door, and grumbled:  “There is something wrong about this!”

Soon after, the whole family sat around the noonday table, and if Sally could not eat yesterday from sorrow, today she could not swallow anything from pure joy, not even the apple cake, which surprised Ritz very much.  But he was glad that the sad Erick also got some, for he thought that that must comfort him.