Over the white streets big white clouds fringed with silver—and sunshine everywhere. Fat, fat coachmen driving fat cabs ; funny women with little round hats cleaning the tramway lines ; people laughing and pushing against one another; trees on both sides of the streets and everywhere you looked almost, immense fountains; a noise of laughing from the footpaths or the middle of the streets or the open windows. And beside her, more beautifully brushed than ever, with a rolled umbrella in one hand and yellow gloves instead of brown ones, her grandfather who had asked her to spend the day. She wanted to run, she wanted to hang on his arm, she wanted to cry every minute, " Oh, I am so frightfully happy ! " He guided her across the roads, stood still while she " looked," and his kind eyes beamed on her and he said " just whatever you wish." She ate two white sausages and two little rolls of fresh bread at eleven o'clock in the morning and she drank some beer, which he told her wasn't intoxicating, wasn't at all like English beer, out of a glass like a flower vase. And then they took a cab and really she must have seen thousands and thousands of wonderful classical pictures in about a quarter of an hour I " I shall page 256have to think them over when I am alone." . . . But when they came out of the picture gallery it was raining. The grandfather unfurled his umbrella and held it over the little governess. They started to walk to the restaurant for lunch. She, very close beside him so that he should have some of the umbrella, too. " It goes easier," he remarked in a detached way, " if you take my arm, Fräulein. And besides it is the custom in Germany." So she took his arm and walked beside him while he pointed out the famous statues, so interested that he quite forgot to put down the umbrella even when the rain was long over.

After lunch they went to a café to hear a gipsy band, but she did not like that at all. Ugh ! such horrible men where there with heads like eggs and cuts on their faces, so she turned her chair and cupped her burning cheeks in her hands and watched her old friend instead. . . . Then they went to the Englischer Garten.

" I wonder what the time is," asked the little governess. " My watch has stopped. I forgot to wind it in the train last night. We've seen such a lot of things that I feel it must be quite late." " Late ! " He stopped in front of her laughing and shaking his head in a way she had begun to know. " Then you have not really enjoyed yourself. Late ! Why, we have not had any ice cream yet! " " Oh, but I have enjoyed myself," she cried, distressed, " more than I can possibly say. It page 257has been wonderful! Only Frau Arnholdt is to be at the hotel at six and I ought to be there by five." " So you shall. After the ice cream I shall put you into a cab and you can go there comfortably." She was happy again. The chocolate ice cream melted—melted in little sips a long way down. The shadows of the trees danced on the table cloths, and she sat with her back safely turned bto the ornamental clock that pointed to twenty-five minutes to seven. " Really and truly," said the little governess earnestly, " this has been the happiest day of my life. I've never even imagined such a day." In spite of the ice cream her grateful baby heart glowed with love for the fairy grandfather.

So they walked out of the garden down a long alley. The day was nearly over. " You see those big buildings opposite," said the old man. " The third storey—that is where I live. I and the old housekeeper who looks after me." She was very interested. " Now just before I find a cab for you, will you come and see my little ' home ' and let me give you a bottle of the attar of roses I told you about in the train ? For remembrance ? " She would love to. " I've never seen a bachelor's flat in my life," laughed the little governess.

The passage was quite dark. "Ah, I suppose my old woman has gone out to buy me a chicken.

One moment." He opened a door and stood aside for her to pass, a little shy but curious, into a page 258 strange room. She did not know quite what to say. It wasn't pretty. In a way it was very ugly—but neat, and, she supposed, comfortable for such an old man. " Well, what do you think of it ? " He knelt down and took from a cupboard a round tray with two pink glasses and a tall pink bottle. " Two little bedrooms beyond," he said gaily, " and a kitchen. It's enough, eh ? " " Oh, quite enough." " And if ever you should be in Munich and care to spend a day or two—why there is always a little nest—a wing of a chicken, and a salad, and an old man delighted to be your host once more and many many times, dear little Fraulein ! " He took the stopper out of the bottle and poured some wine into the two pink glasses. His hand shook and the wine spilled over the tray. It was very quiet in the room. She said : " I think I ought to go now." " But you will have a tiny glass of wine with me— just one before you go ? " said the old man. " No, really no. I never drink wine. I—I have promised never to touch wine or anything like that." And though he pleaded and though she felt dreadfully rude, especially when he seemed to take it to heart so, she was quite determined. " No, really, please." " Well, will you just sit down on the sofa for five minutes and let me drink your health ? " The little governess sat down on the edge of the red velvet couch and he sat do\vn beside her and drank her health at a gulp. " Have you really been happy to-day ? " asked the old man, turning round, so page 259close beside her that she felt his knee twitching against hers. Before she could answer he held her hands. " And are you going to give me one little kiss before you go ? " he asked, drawing her closer still.

It was a dream ! It wasn't true ! It wasn't the same old man at all. Ah, how horrible ! The little governess stared at him in terror. " No, no, no ! " she stammered, struggling out of his hands. " One little kiss. A kiss. What is it ? Just a kiss, dear little Fräulein. A kiss." He pushed his face forward, his lips smiling broadly; and how his little blue eyes gleamed behind the spectacles! " Never—never. How can you ! " She sprang up, but he was too quick and he held her against the wall, pressed against her his hard old body and his twitching knee and, though she shook her head from side to side, distracted, kissed her on the mouth. On the mouth ! Where not a soul who wasn't a near relation had ever kissed her before. . . .

She ran, ran down the street until she found a broad road with tram lines and a policeman standing in the middle like a clockwork doll. " I want to get a tram to the Hauptbahnhof," sobbed the little governess. " Fräulein ? " She wrung her hands at him. " The Hauptbahnhof. There—there's one now," and while he watched very much surprised, the little girl with her hat on one side, crying without a handkerchief, sprang on to the tram— page 260not seeing the conductor's eyebrows, nor hearing the hochwohlgebildete Dante talking her over with a scandalized friend. She rocked herself and cried out loud and said " Ah, ah ! " pressing her hands to her mouth. " She has been to the dentist," shrilled a fat old woman, too stupid to be uncharitable. " Na, sagen Sie 'mal, what toothache ! The child hasn't one left in her mouth." While the tram swung and jangled through a world full of old men with twitching knees.