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"But it may be another name; the initials only a coincidence," faltered Amy, looking frightened. "No, dear, it isn't; there is more to come. Little Roserl came crying through the hall an hour ago, and I asked what the trouble was. She showed me a prettily-bound prayer-book which she had taken from the Pole's room to play with, and had been ordered by her mother to carry back.
"It is pleasant to have one's hand kissed, as Amy said. Poor Karl, his fate is almost as hard as Casimer's." Some subtile power seemed to make the four young people shun one another carefully, though all longed to be together. The major appeared to share the secret disquiet that made the rest roam listlessly about, till little Roserl came to invite them to a fête in honor of the vintage.
"Who has said stupidities to you, that you doubt me?" and Casimer assumed an injured look, though his eyes danced with merriment. "I heard Hoffman singing a Polish song to little Roserl, the burden of which was, 'Ma drogha, Ma drogha, and when I asked him to translate it, those two words meant, 'My darling. How dare you, ungrateful creature that you are!"
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