"Never mind, mamma, he is still suffering for his folly. I have not allowed him to forget the scene he made for us at Monte Carlo yet."

"O yes, Heaven knows you are a very happy couple," exclaimed her mother.

"But I think it is time for us to be going home," she continued, taking her costly watch from her belt. "We will go and get your husband.

Come."

The three ladies went back to the garden to the table where the gentlemen were comfortably chatting over their cigars. Frank was in earnest conversation with Aunt Rosa, who in her best array, sat enthroned in the seat Mrs. Baumhagen had left only a short time before.

Gertrude hastened to introduce her mother and sister to the old lady.

There was no help for it--they were obliged to sit down again for a short time out of politeness. Mrs. Baumhagen, with a bored look, Jenny with scarcely concealed amus.e.m.e.nt at the wonderful little old lady.

"Gertrude," began Frank, "Aunt Rosa came to tell us that she expects company."

"I hope it won't put you out," said the old lady, turning to Gertrude.

"My niece always visits me every year at this time. You have heard me say that the child is pa.s.sionately fond of the woods and mountains and she cheers me up a little."

"Is it that pretty little girl you have told us about so often, Aunt Rosa?" asked Gertrude, kindly; and as the former nodded, she continued,

"Oh, she will be heartily welcome, won't she, Frank? When is she coming, and what is her name?"

"I expect her in a day or two, and her name is Adelaide Strom," replied Aunt Rosa. "I always call her Addie."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Gertrude hastened to introduce her mother and sister to the old lady."]

Then she began to explain the relationship which had the result of making all the company dizzy.

"My mother's sister married a Strom, and her step-son is the cousin of Adelaide's grandfather--"

Here Mrs. Baumhagen rose with great rustling. "I must go home," she said, interrupting the explanation. "It is high time we were gone."

Jenny, who was standing behind her husband's chair, laid her hand on his shoulder.

"Please order the carriage."

"Why, what do you mean, child?" said he in a tone of vexation. "We have only just come!"

"But mamma wishes it."

"Mamma? But why?" he asked, shortly. "We are having a delightful talk."

"Won't you stay till evening, Mrs. Baumhagen?" asked Frank, courteously.

"My head aches a little," was the reply.

Arthur ran his hand despairingly through his hair. This "headache" was the weapon with which every reasonable argument was overthrown.

"Very well, then, do you go," he muttered, grimly. "I will come home with Uncle Henry."

"Yes, to be sure, my dear fellow," cried the old gentleman, much pleased. "I shall be very glad of your company; we will try the Moselle, eh, Frank?"

"Uncle Henry filled up the cellar for our wedding-present," explained the young host as he rose to order the carriage.

"And so richly," added Gertrude.

"Oh, ta, ta!"

The old gentleman had risen and was helping his sister-in-law on with her cloak, with somewhat asthmatic politeness.

"It was pure selfishness, Ottilie. Only that a man might get a drop fit to drink when one arrived here, weary and thirsty."

"Gertrude," whispered Jenny, taking her sister a little aside, "how can you be so foolish as to allow a young girl to be brought into the house? I tell you it is really dreadful; they are always in the way, they _always_ want to be admired, they are always wanting to help and never fail to pay most touching attentions to the host. It is really inconsiderate of the old lady to impose her on you. Invent some excuse for keeping her away. I speak from experience, my love. Arthur invited a cousin once, you remember, I nearly died of vexation."

Gertrude laughed.

"Ah, Jenny," she said, shaking her head. The she hastened after her mother, who was already seated in the carriage.

"Come again soon," she said cordially, when Jenny had taken her seat also.

"I shall expect a visit from you next," was the reply. "You must be making a few calls in town some time."

"We haven't thought about it yet," cried Gertrude, gayly.

"Pray do see that Arthur gets home before the small hours. Uncle Henry never knows when to go," cried Jenny in a tone of vexation.

And the carriage rolled away.

CHAPTER XI.

It was late before Uncle Henry and Arthur set out for home and late when the little judge went to his room. They had all three sat for a good while in Frank's study, talking of past and present times.

"We shall be very gay," said Frank, "when Aunt Rosa's niece comes. You will not be so much alone then, Gertrude, when I am away in the fields."

"I am never lonely," she replied, quietly. "I have never had a girl-friend, and now it seems superfluous to me." And she looked at him with her grave deep eyes.

"Madam," inquired the judge, putting the end of his cigar in a meerschaum mouthpiece, "has he written poetry to you too?" And he pointed to Frank with a sly laugh.

Gertrude flushed.

"Of course," she replied.

"Ah, he can't help writing verses," said the little man, teasingly, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

"I tell you, Mrs. Linden, sometimes it seizes upon him like a perfect fever; and the things that a fellow like that finds to write about!

Poets really are born liars. At the moment when the sweet verses flow out on the paper, they actually believe every word they write--it is really touching!"