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 there followed disgusting and scandalous stories, and the whole local Opposition stood in half an hour in soiled negligee. “This one thing may, however, console us,” ended the burgomistress, “our whole party is in this respect as pure as crystal”

She several times made attempts to penetrate the shell under which was hidden the mysterious kernel of the strange young lady, but all in vain,—so she betook herself once more to the turbid stream in which the local life flowed.

She remained two hours.

“So, Frau Räthin, I bid you good-bye. Good-bye, Miss Lucy, we shall see each other at some picnic. We will drum up something soon.”

Elated, as every person is, who has found a mote in his neighbor’s eye, the burgomistress went out of the door like a peacock in noisy conceit.

“You see, Lucy, what she is,” sighed the old lady. “Just watch: to-day or to-mor-