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Updated: June 11, 2025
And how could you or she be sure that I would not be as much of a hireling as any nurse she may have now?" Mrs. De Guenther answered the last two questions together. "Mrs. Harrington's idea is, and I think rightly, that a conscientious woman would feel the marriage tie, however nominal, a bond that would obligate her to a certain duty toward her husband.
By his vacillating conduct, Guenther had trifled away the good fortune of being appointed at the court of Augustus the Second, where, in addition to every other species of ostentation, they were also looking about for a court-poet, who could give elevation and grace to their festivities, and immortalize a transitory pomp.
Guenther resolves to try his fortune, and to win her or perish, and Siegfried accompanies him on condition that the hand of Chriemhild shall be his reward if they succeed. At the court of Brunhild, Siegfried presents himself as the vassal of Guenther, to increase her sense of his friend's power, and this falsehood is one cause of the subsequent calamities.
"Lots!" said Phyllis cheerfully. "You take special training in guesswork at library school. They call them 'teasers'. They say they're good for your intellect." "Ah yes," said Mr. De Guenther absently in the barside manner.
And instead his neat gray elderly back seemed to deny it he had left with her, the Liberry Teacher, her, dusty, tousled, shopworn Phyllis Braithwaite, an invitation to consider a Line of Work which was so mysteriously Different that she had to look up the spotless De Guenther reputation before she came!
De Guenther had wanted her to take some money in advance, but she had refused. She did not want it till she had earned it, and, anyway, it would have made the whole thing so real, she knew, that she would have backed out. "And it isn't as if I were going to a lover," she defended herself to Mrs. De Guenther with a little wistful smile. "Nobody will know what I have on, any more than they do now."
Guenther and Hagan are taken prisoners by Dietrich of Berne, and put to death by Chriemhild, who in turn suffers death at the hands of one of the followers of Dietrich. Such is an imperfect outline of this ancient poem, which, despite all its horrors and improbabilities, has many passages of touching beauty, and wonderful power.
It was such a small spot for such a long wolfhound that was the principal thing which impressed itself on Phyllis's frightened mind throughout her visit. Mrs. De Guenther convoyed her to the Harrington house for inspection a couple of days after she had accepted some one's proposal to marry Allan Harrington.
Mrs. De Guenther gave a scandalized little cry. Her attitude was determinedly that it was just an ordinary marriage, as good an excuse for sentiment and pretty frocks as any other. "My dear child," she replied firmly, "you are going to have one pretty frock and one really good street-suit now, or I will know why! The rest you may get yourself after the wedding, but you must obey me in this.
"Allan, before you finish that million-dollar conversation to Mr. De Guenther, please call me. I want to speak to him a minute, too." "I'll call you," he promised. They drifted off, Phyllis to attend to her housekeeping, Allan to his long-distance leases, and Philip to find Angela, whom he never forgot for long. She had breakfast with her nurse, and Philip felt it was time he looked her up.
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