The Christmas-tree was set up in the great drawing-room on the ground floor and reached almost to the ceiling.  It was a beautiful young fir, so fresh and fragrant of pine that the breath of the woods seemed to cling to it still.  A large party had gathered for the lighting-up.  Beside the relatives of the aristocratic pupils, who had come over from the estate, there were some neighbors from the Uhlenhorst, with five or six little children, and the Chamberlain von Swerte with his high-born wife.  The couple were childless, and not wishing to spend their Christmas alone, had accepted Paul’s invitation, and come all the way from their little castle near Ronneburg to the Ulhenhorst.

The chamberlain was the lion of the evening.  Paul took an opportunity of whispering to Wilhelm, “Herr von Swerte is of the House of Hellebrand—­one of the first families in the county—­ tremendously ancient lot!” Old Frau Brohl had observed the little gold tab on his coat tail—­the chamberlain’s sign of office, and manuevered skillfully in order that she might frequently obtain a back view, and so gaze upon the proud badge in silent awe and admiration.  The children had no eye for such matters, but rushed shrieking with delight round the tree, whose branches shed such gorgeous presents on them.  Willy got a hussar uniform, with sword, knot, boots and spurs all complete, and would not rest till he had been taken to his room and dressed in it, and then appeared before the company in this martial attire.  His mother’s eye grew dim with pride and joy when Herr von Swerte lifted up the little warrior to kiss him, and said heartily:  “Well, my dear Herr Haber, he will make a smart cavalry officer some day!”

At dinner Wilhelm found himself beside Frau Brohl.  The old lady was still fond of him, and never forgot how well he had behaved at a critical moment, and with what modest self-perception he had acknowledged that he was not the husband for her granddaughter.

Searching about for something agreeable to say to him, or for a subject that would be sure to interest him, she suddenly remembered one, and said, between the fish and the roast, “Have you heard the story about your old flame, Frau Von Pechlar?”

Wilhelm started and changed color.

Frau Brohl never noticed, and continued in her soft complaining voice:  “Your guardian angel saved you there, Herr Doctor.  You would have come off nicely if you had married Fraulein Ellrich.  There have been all sorts of rumors for years, but now it has come to an open scandal.  She has left Herr von Pechlar and gone off with a count, who has been hanging about her for some time.  They say she has gone to Italy with him.”