chair and laid down her crochet. She was beginning
to feel old, so she often told herself regretfully --
older than the Englishwomen of her own age seemed
to be. But none of them had worked as hard as she
had always worked. Englishwomen, especially English
servants, were lazy good-for-nothings!

Poor old Anna; she did not feel happy or placid
today, and she hated the thought of opening the
door to some one who, maybe, would condole with
her on today's news. All Mrs. Otway's friends knew
Anna, and treated her as a highly respected institution.
Those who knew a little German were fond of
trying it on her.

It was rather curious, considering how long Anna
had been in England, that she still kept certain little
habits acquired in the far-off days when she had been
the young cook of a Herr Privy Councillor. Thus
never did she open the front door with a cheerful,
pleasant manner. Also, unless they were very intimately
known to her and to her mistress, she always
kept visitors waiting in the hall. She would forget,
that is, to show them straight into the pretty sitting-room
which lay just opposite her kitchen. She often
found herself regretting that the heavy old mahogany
door of the Trellis House lacked the tiny aperture
which in Berlin is so well named a "stare-hole," and
which enables the person inside the front door to command,
as it were, the position outside.

But today, when she saw who it was who stood
on the threshold, her face cleared a little, for she was
well acquainted with the tall young man who was
looking at her with so pleasant a smile. His name
was Jervis Blake, and he came very often to the

[[54]]

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v?