"Angela," said her father, "here is Herr Frank, to whom you are under obligations."
She moved a step or two toward Richard.
"Sir," said she gently, "you returned some things that were valuable to me; were it not for your kindness, they would probably have been lost. I thank you."
A formal bow was Frank's answer. Hamm stood smiling, his searching glance alternating between the stately young man and Angela. But in the manner of both he observed nothing more than reserve and cold formality.
Angela left the room. The assessor sat down on the sofa and poured out a glass of wine.
Eliza sat on her father's knee. Richard observed the beautiful child with her fine features and golden silken locks that hung about her tender face. The winning expression of innocence and gentleness in her mild, childish eyes particularly struck him.
"A beautiful, lovely child," said he involuntarily, and as he looked in Siegwart's face he read there a deep love and a quiet, fatherly fondness for the child.
"Eliza is not always as lovely and good as she is now," he returned. "She has still some little faults which she must get rid of."
"Yes, that's what Angela said," chattered the little one. "Angela said I must be very good; I must love to pray; I must obey my father and mother; then the angels who are in heaven will love me."
"Can you pray yet, my child," said Richard.