without the slightest justification, by any one of a company of men in high spirits. But the feeble echo of his remark disclosed to the doctor that the Schleheim family aroused no interest whatsoever; and only quite cursorily did conversation touch upon some of the so-called ranger's relatives, with whom the daughter,—evidently no one in the gathering considered her remarkably pretty,—was supposed now and then to have spent the winter months.
Late one afternoon, shortly thereafter, Doctor Graesler determined upon a walk which took him gradually into the vicinity of The Range. From the road he saw it lying silent in the shadow of the woods, and even perceived on the veranda the form of a man whose features he could not at that distance distinguish. He stopped for a moment, violently tempted to walk up towards the house straight-way and inquire after Frau Schleheim's health, as though he had only just accidentally been passing by there; but he quickly reflected that such a move was hardly compatible with his professional dignity and might possibly be misconstrued. From this walk he came home more fatigued and out of temper than he would have thought possible after such a trivial disappointment; and when he did not meet Sabine in the spa even during the next few days, he began to hope that she was out of town or that she had perhaps even disappeared from there for good and all—a consummation which appeared to him, in the interest of his own equanimity, really desirable.
As he sat one morning on his sunny balcony taking his breakfast, which he had long ceased to enjoy as he had the first few days, he was informed that a young man wished to see him. Directly there appeared on the balcony, clad in knickerbockers, a tall, handsome youth whose carriage and cast of countenance so unmistakably resembled those of Sabine that the doctor could not refrain from greeting him as an acquaintance.
"Young Herr Schleheim?" he said in a tone which carried more of conviction than of inquiry.
"Yes, that's me," the young fellow replied.
"I recognized you immediately from your resemblance to your—eh—mother. Won't you sit down, young man? I am still at my breakfast, as you see. What's the trouble? Your mother ill again?" He felt somehow as though he were talking to Sabine.
Young Schleheim remained standing, holding his cap politely in one hand. "Mother's all right, Doctor. Ever since you appealed
