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 which was bringing home her father had just driven up in front of the house. Mr. Maelinger was filled with astonishment, for his pupil, instead of jumping up happily and running away to greet her father, looked shyly through the window and did not budge.

“You can go, Cornelli; your father is here! We have finished our work,” he said, and with these words departed.

Cornelli had heard her father coming into the house and had heard the ladies’ joyful words of welcome. She crushed a tear that had begun to trickle down her cheek and went over to the room where her father had just entered.

“How are you, child? Have you come at last?” the father called gaily to her. “But how strange you look, Cornelli!” he went on with a changed voice. “What is it?” Cornelli had silently given him her hand and was shyly looking down.

What has happened to you? How odd you look! I hardly know you any more! Push away all that gypsy-like hair from your face! Why don’t you look at me pleasantly? Why do you keep looking away? For months I