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 tion only that his little daughter should have a voice in all matters, and that nothing should be done against her wish.

As Clara was putting her impatient question for the second time, Dete and Heidi arrived at the front door, and the former inquired of the coachman, who had just got down from his box, if it was too late to see Fräulein Rottenmeier.

“That’s not my business,” grumbled the coachman; “ring the bell in the hall for Sebastian.”

Dete did so, and Sebastian came downstairs; he looked astonished when he saw her, opening his eyes till they were nearly as big as the large round buttons on his coat.

“Is it too late for me to see Fräulein Rottenmeier?” Dete asked again.

“That’s not my business,” answered the man; “ring that other bell for the maid Tinette,” and without troubling him self any farther Sebastian disappeared.

Dete rang again. This time Tinette appeared with a spotless white cap perched on the top of her head and a mocking expression of face.

“What is it?” she called from the top of the stairs. Dete repeated her question. Tinette disappeared, but soon came back and called down again to Dete, “Come up, she is expecting you.”

Dete and Heidi went upstairs and into the study, Tinette following. Dete remained standing politely near the door, still holding Heidi tightly by the hand, for she did not know what the child might take it into her head to do amid these new surroundings.

Fräulein Rottenmeier rose slowly and went up to the little