he opened a door at the end of the passage, took Emmy's hand under his arm, and entered with her.

It was a large room, with glass doors opening into a garden. Near one of these open doors stood a sofa, with a small table placed before it, at which Mrs Welters and her eldest daughter were sitting.

Mrs Welters was a large stout woman, who, if ever she had been pretty, retained little trace of it. A large nose, and small piercing eyes; about the mouth an expression of determination, and on her whole appearance a stamp of self-satisfaction, which made the first impression of her not agreeable.

She came forward two steps, whilst Otto, going up to her with Emmy, said, not without some emotion, 'Here is our Emmy, mamma.'

Emmy had frequently imagined this meeting. In her thoughts she had thrown her arms round her stepmother's neck, and, with a hearty kiss, had asked her for a mother's love, of which she felt so greatly the want. But, as is usually the case, the actual event was in no respect like the conception of it.

Herself of moderate height, Emmy looked up at the tall lady who impressed a cold kiss on her forehead, and the words which she had wished to say died on her lips, whilst, much as she tried, she could not keep back her tears.

This is your sister Mina, Emmy,' said Mrs Welters, turning to her eldest daughter, who was standing by the table with her work in her hand, and who now received in silence Emmy's kiss.

Elizabeth helped Emmy to take off her hat and cloak, and Mrs Welters made room for her on the sofa, whilst the rest sat down round the table.

In first meetings of this kind, even when between old and loved friends who meet with all possible joy, there

is still something forced. The heart is full; each has a thousand things to ask and to say, and yet on both sides a certain timidity is felt which makes the conversation turn at first on questions relating to the journey and the weather. In Emmy's peculiar position with respect to her new family this impression was still stronger. Mrs Welters alone was entirely at her ease, and kept the conversation going with the greatest calmness. She inquired of Emmy in the politest manner as to her health and her journey; spoke of the death of the old aunt, the warm weather, and the charming summer. But Emmy gave short and commonplace answers.

Her heart was so full. She saw, as in a dream, the same room, in which the sofa stood in the same place, and where her own mother was lying weak and ill. She remembered a fine day in June like this, when the sun shone as gaily on the flowers as now; when, just as now, the summer air came in through the with the same scent of mignonette which now filled the open doors, room; when Otto and she knelt by the sofa, and the last words of their dying mother were addressed to them.

These recollections overwhelmed her so that she could hardly listen to her step-mother, and could not half understand what was said to her; but all at once she heard Mrs Welters utter these words, There is your father, Emmy,' and when she looked up and saw him actually coming into the room, she started up out of her dream, ran to meet her father, threw her arms round his neck, and whispered, 'Papa, dear papa!' while she burst into tears.

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CHAPTER II.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS.

FEW hours later the family were at dinner. The ice of first acquaintance was broken. Emmy sat between her brother Otto and William de Graaff, who was introduced to her by her father, before dinner, with the words: Here is still another brother, Emmy.'

Emmy looked up surprised as she greeted William de Graaff, for, in the confusion of making so many new acquaintances, she had entirely forgotten the son of her stepmother, who was not present in the family circle when she arrived. On her first look at him, however, she immediately turned her eyes away; and certainly William de Graaff was not attractive at first sight. Tall and stout in figure like his mother, he had sharp features and thin lips, which he kept fast closed when he was not actually speaking. His light reddish hair was straight, and his pale grey eyes had something dreamy in their expression. Now and then he half closed them, and there seemed a strange, almost green light in them, changing the whole expression of his countenance, and giving it a look of slyness which had a repulsive effect on those who saw him.

William de Graaff was five-and-twenty. His father, who had been Director of the Post Office at Dilburg, had brought him up to the same employment; and the appointment which his father had formerly held having become vacant about a year before, fell to his lot. Like Otto Welters, he did not live at home; but they were both much there, and regularly appeared at the family dinner-table.

Compared with Otto, William had few friends; and although in Dilburg no one could say anything against him, yet he was not liked; no one could exactly say why, but he was never in request nor sought after; and yet he was polite and obliging to every one, and did not put a straw in anybody's way.

Was it because he was ugly? No, that could not be the reason, for it was just the same at school, where good looks are not the touchstone of popularity. There indeed opinions were more openly expressed, for if any of the boys had done anything wrong secretly, the master always knew it on the following day in a mysterious manner, and the whole school declared that William de Graaff was the informer--although no proof against him ever came to light. Thus, when the time came for him to leave school, he was without any friends, and since his return to Dilburg he had made no new ones.

Most of

He was silent and reserved in manner. his evening, after the post office was shut up, he spent at home; but he generally had a book before him, and seldom took part in the conversation. Such was the person who was introduced to Emmy as still another brother.

He was extremely polite to Emmy, and she soon felt very much at her ease, and took a lively part in the general conversation, the subject of which was chiefly the events and recollections of earlier days.

I feel somewhat to blame, in having passed over the master of the house in my description of the members of the family; but my excuse must be a wish to portray him sitting at his dinner-table in the happiest hour of his whole day, and I shall not have done him injustice if I present him to you at this advantageous

moment.

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As to his exterior, I can say but little, except that he was fat-fearfully fat. His body was fat, his broad cheeks were fat, and fat were his small white hands, which he folded complacently over his fat stomach.

It is assumed that all men have a definite character, and a narrator is required to reflect that character in all its peculiarities; but I must honestly confess that I am somewhat at a loss as to the character of Burgomaster Welters.

Properly speaking, the man's qualities were entirely of a negative kind. He had not a bad heart; he was not stupid; he had not a bad temper. He was by no means a bad husband or father, still less a careless or incapable Burgomaster of Dilburg, which town had entrusted its interests to him for more than five-andtwenty years, and had felt perfectly contented with his administration; but that the reverse of each of the above qualities was applicable to him in a positive sense I cannot take upon myself to state.

His rule of life was, to let God's water flow over God's field' to take the world as he found it—and, if the truth must be told, ' to howl with the wolves for the sake of peace and quietness.' Since he had married his present wife, or, to speak more correctly, since she had married him, he had given up into her hands the whole domestic administration, and it probably went on no worse for that. But besides the negative qualities of Burgomaster Welters, above mentioned, I have reserved for the last one that was positive, because it was the key to his whole character.

He had one idol which he worshipped with all the strength of his heart and soul, and on whose altar he would, in case of necessity, have sacrificed everything belonging to him. That idol was his belly. What a