This was the very moment for Lilly's happy avowal. But the words died on her lips. She could not--for all her good intentions, she could not. As it was, those great colourless eyes, resting on her face, were putting her to the proof.

However, one thing was certain--the colonel knew nothing. His silence had been due simply to the fact that he had not deemed the gay dog worthy of mention.

"How's he behaving?" asked the colonel, turning to Miss von Schwertfeger.

"Oh, Colonel," she said with a smile, regarding her long, bony fingers, on which her crescent-shaped nails shone like mother-of-pearl, "you know I never denounce unless I have to."

"Such a good-for-nothing rascal," laughed the colonel.

Lilly, instinctively taking her friend's part, thought the lady's words were in themselves sufficient denunciation.

After breakfast they started out on their little expedition.

Lilly was placed between the colonel and Miss von Schwertfeger, and a pack of dogs all of a sudden appeared to keep them company. Lilly thought them more likable than anything else about her.

The kitchen was visited first. A perfect marvel of a kitchen, with tiled walls, porcelain sinks, and all sorts of up-to-date arrangements. Lilly did not know at what to look first.

A face was there, an old, brown, furrowed, thick-lipped face, with a pair of moist eyes turned upon Lilly in mute questioning:

"Don't you recognise me?"

Lilly's eyes answered:

"Yes, I do."

But she did not dare to speak with her lips as well as with her eyes, for fear Miss von Schwertfeger would inquire concerning the decisive moment of her life and come to despise her still more.

She gave the old woman her hand, and the bond of friendship was renewed.

Next they went to the servants' kitchen, where the Sunday soup was bubbling like a seething sea in a huge copper vessel. After this came the laundry with its wringers and mangles resembling brightly armoured monsters. It was good to smell the ancient odour of soap which had nestled permanently in every nook and cranny.

In the pantries and storerooms, rows of hams wrapped in grey gauze depended from the rafters like gigantic bats. Sausages hung there, too, and last winter's golden pippins and other fine apples were still lying on straw beds. Long lines of wide-mouthed jars were ranged on the closet shelves--you could pilfer sweets to your heart's content.

The party now cut diagonally across the paved yard, where the waggons and harvesters stood like soldiers on parade, to the barns and stables.

The stable of the pleasure horses! Heavens! It was like a drawing-room.

Upholstered wicker chairs with footstools in front stood about invitingly. A matting strip ran along the stalls, over each of which a porcelain plate proclaimed the name of the n.o.ble animal within. The horses moved supple, slender, l.u.s.trous necks and turned knowing human eyes to greet their beautiful mistress.

"You will choose one of these for yourself," said the colonel.

"I don't know how to ride," replied Lilly, embarra.s.sed.

The grooms standing about, cap in hand, grinned at her uncomprehendingly. A lady who could not ride had never before stepped into their world.

The home of the draught horses was not nearly so interesting; it was dirty and malodorous, and the cow stalls nauseated Lilly.

But she took good care not to betray her sensations. Ready to learn, she patiently listened to the explanations the colonel and Miss von Schwertfeger gave in turn.

A difficult piece of work was still ahead of them, the visit to the cottagers, who had just returned from church and were standing before their doors in expectant groups.

The oldest and most trustworthy came first. There were many new names to learn, many dirty hands to shake and many eyes to look into which stared at her in respectful suspicion.

Lilly felt she was fairly well able to cope with the situation. She found a few friendly words to reach the hearts of the old and the sick; and when she stooped and drew on her lap a blubbering little urchin a pleased whisper ran before her to smooth her path.

At the end of the settlement were two structures originally erected for barns, but later converted into dwellings. Small windows in red and blue frames were set in the walls at irregular intervals, and what had once been the broad entrance had been built up with yellow bricks.

Here lived the Polish immigrants, who had come as contract labourers from distant regions. The district in which Lischnitz lay had been German from times of old and had remained a German island amid the invading flood of Slavs.

For this reason it was necessary to hold aloft the banner of Germanism, as Miss von Schwertfeger admonished lovingly. And Lilly felt mortified, as though she had been in the habit of disavowing it.

Red head cloths gleamed. Great, blue, intimidated eyes prayed to her.

Here and there an awed bobbing to the hem of her skirt, a shy attempt to kiss her sleeve.

"_Niech bedzie pochwalony Jezus Chrystus_," she heard in a whisper about her, and involuntarily she answered: "_Na wieki wiekow!_ Amen!"

In the course of her Catholic bringing up she had learned that this is the answer to a Polish greeting.

A glad humming and buzzing, a ripple of happiness ran through the fearsome huddling little group. The lovely young _pana_ had spoken their language, the language of their G.o.d.

"I had no idea you could speak Polish," said the colonel, his voice grating with blame of her.

Lilly gave an embarra.s.sed laugh and explained.

They tarried a shorter time at the next entrance, where a group of young fellows in heavy grey jackets were twirling their caps and making awkward bows. Lilly scarcely ventured to give them a cordial nod. Even that, she felt, was forbidden.

Miss von Schwertfeger said not a word, but with aquiline nose in the air held aloft the banner of Germanism.

"Now, my dear," she said when they reached the castle door, "put on your dark blue cloth dress. I have already had it taken from the trunk and pressed. You will find it in your room, and a lace collar to wear with it. That is the correct thing here for Sunday dinner, which we take in the middle of the day."

Lilly obediently donned the blue gown. It enhanced her slim grace. Her heart beat for fear that her merry friend, who could not suspect she had disowned him, would betray both of them at the first meeting by a careless word of recognition.

The dinner bell rang and the next instant came those three probing taps on the door.

Lilly in alarm started away from the mirror. Miss von Schwertfeger should never discover she was vain. She looked Lilly up and down a while, then grasped both her hands, and buried her pale blue eyes, which now flared up again, in the improbable eyes.

"G.o.d grant," she said, "that you don't cause too much mischief in this world, my child."

"Why should I cause mischief?" Lilly faltered, mortified again. "I don't do a bit of harm to anybody."

Miss von Schwertfeger laughed.

"The one good thing is, you don't know who you are," she said, and drew her to the corridor and down the old stairway, which cracked at every step.

In the dining room were four dark men's figures besides the colonel's.

At Lilly's entrance they hastily drew up in line.

One was the man with the round grey beard--"Mr. Leichtweg, our chief inspector," said the colonel. The next was the stout, copper-coloured man--"Mr. Messner, our bookkeeper." Somebody else was introduced, and then--then--