“Mamma, where is Cacilie?” she said.

“I suppose she’s in her room.”

“There’s no light in it.”

The Frau Professor gave an exclamation, and she looked at her daughter in dismay.  The thought which was in Anna’s head had flashed across hers.

“Ring for Emil,” she said hoarsely.

This was the stupid lout who waited at table and did most of the housework.  He came in.

“Emil, go down to Herr Sung’s room and enter without knocking.  If anyone is there say you came in to see about the stove.”

No sign of astonishment appeared on Emil’s phlegmatic face.

He went slowly downstairs.  The Frau Professor and Anna left the door open and listened.  Presently they heard Emil come up again, and they called him.

“Was anyone there?” asked the Frau Professor.

“Yes, Herr Sung was there.”

“Was he alone?”

The beginning of a cunning smile narrowed his mouth.

“No, Fraulein Cacilie was there.”

“Oh, it’s disgraceful,” cried the Frau Professor.

Now he smiled broadly.

“Fraulein Cacilie is there every evening.  She spends hours at a time there.”

Frau Professor began to wring her hands.

“Oh, how abominable!  But why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was no business of mine,” he answered, slowly shrugging his shoulders.

“I suppose they paid you well.  Go away.  Go.”

He lurched clumsily to the door.

“They must go away, mamma,” said Anna.

“And who is going to pay the rent?  And the taxes are falling due.  It’s all very well for you to say they must go away.  If they go away I can’t pay the bills.”  She turned to Philip, with tears streaming down her face.  “Ach, Herr Carey, you will not say what you have heard.  If Fraulein Forster—­” this was the Dutch spinster—­“if Fraulein Forster knew she would leave at once.  And if they all go we must close the house.  I cannot afford to keep it.”

“Of course I won’t say anything.”

“If she stays, I will not speak to her,” said Anna.

That evening at supper Fraulein Cacilie, redder than usual, with a look of obstinacy on her face, took her place punctually; but Herr Sung did not appear, and for a while Philip thought he was going to shirk the ordeal.  At last he came, very smiling, his little eyes dancing with the apologies he made for his late arrival.  He insisted as usual on pouring out the Frau Professor a glass of his Moselle, and he offered a glass to Fraulein Forster.  The room was very hot, for the stove had been alight all day and the windows were seldom opened.  Emil blundered about, but succeeded somehow in serving everyone quickly and with order.  The three old ladies sat in silence, visibly disapproving:  the Frau Professor had scarcely recovered from her tears; her husband was silent and oppressed.  Conversation languished.  It seemed