Christian, with big circles round her eyes, sat silent at her little table.  She had had no sleep.  Herr Paul coming into the room about noon gave her a furtive look and went out again; after this he went to his bedroom, took off all his clothes, flung them passionately one by one into a footbath, and got into bed.

“I might be a criminal!” he muttered to himself, while the buttons of his garments rattled on the bath.

“Am I her father?  Have I authority?  Do I know the world?  Bssss!  I might be a frog!”

Mrs. Decie, having caused herself to be announced, found him smoking a cigar, and counting the flies on the ceiling.

“If you have really done this, Paul,” she said in a restrained voice, “you have done a very unkind thing, and what is worse, you have made us all ridiculous.  But perhaps you have not done it?”

“I have done it,” cried Herr Paul, staring dreadfully:  “I have done it, I tell you, I have done it—­”

“Very well, you have done it—­and why, pray?  What conceivable good was there in it?  I suppose you know that Nicholas has driven him to the frontier?  Nicholas is probably more dead than alive by this time; you know his state of health.”

Herr Paul’s fingers ploughed up his beard.

“Nicholas is mad—­and the girl is mad!  Leave me alone!  I will not be made angry; do you understand?  I will not be worried—­I am not fit for it.”  His prominent brown eyes stared round the room, as if looking for a way of escape.

“If I may prophesy, you will be worried a good deal,” said Mrs. Decie coldly, “before you have finished with this affair.”

The anxious, uncertain glance which Herr Paul gave her at these words roused an unwilling feeling of compunction in her.

“You are not made for the outraged father of the family,” she said.  “You had better give up the attitude, Paul; it does not suit you.”

Herr Paul groaned.

“I suppose it is not your fault,” she added.

Just then the door was opened, and Fritz, with an air of saying the right thing, announced: 

“A gentleman of the police to see you, sir.”

Herr Paul bounded.

“Keep him out!” he cried.

Mrs. Decie, covering her lips, disappeared with a rustling of silk; in her place stood a stiff man in blue....

Thus the morning dragged itself away without any one being able to settle to anything, except Herr Paul, who was settled in bed.  As was fitting in a house that had lost its soul, meals were neglected, even by the dog.

About three o’clock a telegram came for Christian, containing these words:  “All right; self returns to-morrow.  Treffry.”  After reading it she put on her hat and went out, followed closely by Greta, who, when she thought that she would not be sent away, ran up from behind and pulled her by the sleeve.

“Let me come, Chris—­I shall not talk.”