THE 1RRIGA TION A GE. 



139 



imposing statures, but they had 

 also inherited a part of her nature, 

 her lack of decision, her weak 

 will but also her magnamimous, 

 childish heart. 



Frau Kaunitz spoke long with 

 her husband. He had never 

 listened with such patience before. 

 The heart of the stately man 

 expandep as he listened, and it 

 became larger, wider, softer. He 

 wondered : Can a woman so love a 

 man a whole life long, who does 

 not love her, a man of whose 

 degradation of soul she is con- 

 vinced? He did not exprese this 

 wonder, far from it, but he medi- 

 tated upon it as one does on some- 

 thing incomprehensible, incon- 



vincible, something abnormal. 

 ***** 



And Christmas returned once 

 more. 



"Let it pass quietly, mother," 

 begged Bruno, "just like any other 

 gray winter's day. It is only for 

 children, and we have none." 



The mother nodded, Bruno 

 sighed deeply. He longed for a 

 home of his own. Both, mother 

 and son looked straight ahead into 

 blankness and the eyes of both 

 grew moist. A bright multi- 

 colored vision passed through 

 their minds. A sweet, earnest 

 wife among a crowd of laughing 

 children. However, the mother 

 only said: 



"But at least be at home this 

 evening, Bruno." 



"Oh yes. you dear good, mother, 

 I shall be with you." 



Christmas surprises! It re- 

 mained the little Prau Kaunitz's 



specialty after all. 



She had to arrange for a few 

 pleasant surprises for Bruno, even 

 though she had bade him to desist. 

 And once more there were christ- 

 mas whisperings, a hurrying softly 

 by, Christmas odors and Christmas 

 glory all over the house as in 

 olden days. 



When Bruno, in coming home 

 crossed the yard, Fritz, the little 

 stable boy in full uniform, called 

 him to the stalls. 



There stood a beautiful riding 

 horse of noble race, a present from 

 his father. Bruno petted it, smil- 

 ing, and assended the steps. 

 There on the clothes-rack in the 

 upper hall hung a fur top-coapt 

 for him. 



"Ah," he thought, "mother 

 could not forego it." In his room 

 there was all the necessary para- 

 phernalia for painting. easel, 

 palette and everything in luxuri- 

 ous, tasteful perfection. On the 

 grand piano of the salon lay a pile 

 of new music and so on step for 

 step a surprise awaited Bruno. 



"And now see my Christmas 

 present," said the mothet, at last 

 waving with a radiant smile and 

 triumphant flourishing a bit of 

 paper. A caplegram from Am- 

 erica. And Bruno read: Born, a 

 son yesterday. Now I am com- 

 pletely happy. Amalie. 



"Hurrah mother!" 



"But seek father Bruno," urged 

 his mother. 



"Still more'?. But mother what 

 else can there be that you can. 

 give me?" 



"Oh there may be something 



