"God be thanked!" he cried, embracing his daughter. He then led both his dear ones into his room, whence gratefully streamed the inviting perfumes of the coffee he had had prepared for them. They soon laid aside their wrappings.
"But where is Theodore?" was Ella's first question.
"Is he better?" added Madame von Herbart, anxiously.
"By and by you can judge for yourselves," replied the old man slowly.
Ella again embraced her grandfather, caressing him as if she had been many months away from him. She placed his great arm-chair near the table, arranged the cushions, and, seating herself upon his knee, began the narration of all her adventures. While her clear eyes gazed into his face, she remarked the downcast appearance of the old man, who seemed to have no relish for his little grandchild's prattle, to which he usually listened with such delight.
"Just see now, mother!" cried the child in a tragi-comic tone of voice, "does not grandfather look to-day exactly like the upper bailiff, when the hail spoiled his best rye-field?"
Madame von Herbart looked up as she handed her father his cup, and was startled by the sorrowful expression of his countenance.
"What is the matter, my dear father?" she cried, hastening to his side. "Has anything disagreeable happened? O, do tell me quickly!"
"It is nothing, my daughter!" answered the burgomaster, endeavoring to soothe her; "several little circumstances have transpired, which have somewhat disturbed my equanimity."
"And am I not to know what has troubled you?"