She is silent for a few seconds, and then she asks anxiously:
"But will there always, always be wars and dissensions between the nations?"
"O no!" I answer, "one point they must all agree—in the end."
"Humanity. When each is free to follow his own bent, then they will all agree."
She is lost in thought, she has more to say, but there comes a tap at the door—
"Mamma!" she exclaims under her breath, and escapes, after giving me her hand—for the first time!
———
On the next day but one, while I was still in bed, I received a letter by the postman.
The envelope bore the name of her father's firm: "Jacob Berenholz."