Chapter M

P. S. Fräulein Hartmann is not happy. I am convinced of it. To be sure, I never see her except at table, for her aunt keeps her always closely by her side. But to-day I passed the girl in the hall, and her eyes were swollen from crying. She looked so sad that I stopped and asked her if I could not do something for her. For a moment she looked at me hesitatingly and seemed about to speak, when in walked her unbearable aunt.

"My niece has a frightful headache," she exclaimed, "and bed is the best place for her."

I feel sure that odious lieutenant has been doing or not doing something that disturbs her. I am constantly meeting him on the stairs. He comes in every day to drink afternoon coffee and is usually sauntering down just as I come in from the chorus hour at the Conservatory. When he sees me he bows very low, and, with a twist of his tiresome mustache and a glance which he imagines is impressive, hopes "_sehr geehrtes Fräulein_ is in good health."

If it weren't for his stunning uniform I don't believe the pretty Fräulein would look at him twice!