“And it was then that you decided you would like to visit your child’s grave?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Graves such as that of your child which are never tended are naturally hard to find. In the cemetery you will see many small mounds which are almost obliterated by time.”

The ledger was brought in. The date . He turned it up.

“Ah yes.

Gretchen Swartz died in childbirth. The baby was adopted. “

“Your ledger is wrong, Dr. Kleine,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“Gretchen Swartz did not die.”

“How can you be sure of that?”

“I can be very sure. I have met her.”

“You have met her?”

“I have. She is now married to a Sergeant Franck and lives in Rochenburg.”

He swallowed; the silence seemed to go on for several seconds; he stammered: “That’s impossible.”

I rose.

“No,” I said.

“It’s true. I do wonder why you have recorded the death of Gretchen Swartz and the adoption of her child. What is your motive?”

“Motive? I don’t understand. There may have been some mistake.”

“There has been some mistake,” I said.

“Excuse me one moment. I have a friend whom I should like you to meet.”

Before he could protest I had gone into his waiting-room and come back with Gretchen.

“I want you and Dr. Kleine to meet,” I told Gretchen.

He stared at her.

“Who, he began.

“What?

This is Frau Franck,” I said.

“You remember her as Gretchen Swartz.

But you thought-or you told me you thought she was dead. You see, she is alive. “

“We both had children in your clinic, Dr. Kleine.”

“But I don’t understand. You and she here together. You ... planned this? “

“Oh yes, yes.

“You told me that Gretchen’s child lived and was adopted.”

“There has clearly been a misunderstanding. You did not tell me that Fraulein Swartz was here.”

“She is Frau Franck now, but you were so certain that she was dead.

Your records said so. “

“It is obviously a clerical error. I am glad Fraulein Swartz did not die, but as I say, it is so long ago.”

“How did you come to make such a record?”

He shrugged his shoulders, his composure almost regained.

“Mistakes happen. Miss Trant, as you must be aware. I’m ‘afraid I can’t help you further.”

“Perhaps you can,” I said.

“I wonder whether you can give me the address of Frau Gleiberg.”

He wrinkled his brows but he did not deceive me.

“wasn’`t she your friend?” he asked.

“I have lost touch with her.”

“I too. And now. Miss Trant, you will understand that I am a very busy man. I am sorry that I can be of no help to you.”

He ushered me out of his clinic with alacrity. I was excited because a sudden notion had come to me that just as he had deceived us into thinking that Gretchen’s child had lived, might he not have deceived me into thinking that mine had died?

He could give me no details. He could not tell me where my child was buried.

How I wished Maximilian would come back. There was so much to discuss with him.

A letter came from Anthony?

Things look a little unsettled over there,” he wrote, ” I don’t like the idea of your being there. The French are very bellicose, and they and the Prussians are such old enemies. If there was trouble-and opinion here seems that there might well bel shouldn’`t like to think of you there. If you send word, I’ll come out and bring you back . “

It sepmed unfair not to tell him that I had found Maximilian. I was so fond of Anthony that I wanted him to stop thinking of me. I hoped that the girl to whom his mother had referred would be all that he needed in a wife and I wholeheartedly wished that he might fall in love with her and forget me.

As soon as I possibly could I should tell him.

Frau Graben came into the schoolroom in a flutter of excitement. I was taking an English lesson and trying to-keep my attention on what we were doing. It was not easy. I kept thinking of my visit to Dr. Kleine’s clinic and asking myself what it meant. I was beginning to believe more and more that there was some mystery about my little girl’s death.

Every time I heard the sound of horses’ hoofs in the courtyard I started, desperately hoping it would be Maximilian. I yearned to talk to him, to sift the reason for Dr. Kleine’s strange behaviour from all the mass of mystery which surrounded me.

Frau Graben said: “It’s the Duchess. It’s Wilhelmina.” I heard myself say in a voice which sounded haughty but this of course was due to nervousness: “What does she want?”

“She’s come to see you.”

To see me! “

“That’s what she says. She’s over at the Rittersaal.”

Dagobert said: “Is the Duke with her?”

“No,” answered Frau Graben.

“She’s all alone at least she’s alone in the Rittersaal. She has two of her women waiting in the carriage.”

“I’ll go at once to her,” I said.

“I can’t imagine why she wants to see me.”

I told the children to go on reading from the book of fairy stories which we were studying.

As the door shut on us Frau Graben looked at me, her eyes dancing with excitement, and lifted her shoulders.

“What does this mean, I wonder,” she whispered.

“She did say she wanted to see meT ” She certainly did. And there’s a look in her eyes . “

“What sort of look?”

“Reminded me of icebergs,” said Frau Graben.

“Not that I’ve seen an iceberg. Cold. Very cold. Shivery cold, I’d say. And I’ve been told that there’s a lot more ice in icebergs than you see on the surface.”

“I wonder if She knows anything? Couldn’'t say. News leaks out particularly bad news and this could be bad news to her. Still, you’ll soon know.

Just go in and call her Your Grace and show the proper respect. You can’t go wrong then. “

I found that I was trembling. I had seen this woman on one or two occasions, but only from a distance. The fact that she believed herself to be Maximilian’s wife made her alarming, to say the least. I felt that I was wronging her, which was not so. It was neither her fault nor mine that we were in this position.

She was seated at the table when Frau Graben opened the door.

“Here’s Miss Trant, Your Grace,” she said, and I stepped into the room. I was aware that Frau Graben had not shut the door. She would be standing very close, listening. The eavesdropper in this case was rather a comfort.

“You are Miss Trant?” The coldest blue eyes I had ever seen were appraising me. They were expressionless and it was impossible to tell from them what she knew. She was beautiful in a certain style, I noticed with a pang of jealousy. How absurd to feel thati He loved me and he had never loved her.

She was beautiful as a statue is beautiful-remote and so cool. Her fair hair was swept up from a pale, rather long face, her nose was aquiline and patrician; her mouth matched her eyes unsmiling. Her velvet cloak fell back to display the lace ruffles at her wrists and neck. Diamonds sparkled on her fingers and in the lace at her throat.

They suited her. I could not imagine her ever glowing with passion; yet aloof as she was there was something deadly about her as there is about a snake.

But I believed she was feeling more interest in me than she would normally have for a teacher of English. She knows, I thought, if not all something.

“I hear you teach the children English.”

“That is so.”

“And are they good pupils?”

I replied that I was satisfied with them.

She said: “You may be seated.” She pointed to a chair close to hers and added: “There.”

“How long have you been in Klocksburg?” she went on.

I told her.

“Why did you come here?”

“Frau Graben came to England and we met. She thought I would be suitable to teach the children English.”

“Frau Graben! Why should she decide that the children should be taught English?”

“Perhaps she could tell you that.”

The eyebrows were imperceptibly raised. I hoped I did not sound impertinent. I did not mean to be. I was merely horribly nervous because she was in the position which should be mine, because she believed herself to be married to Maximilian and was not. I could not imagine what her reaction would be when she knew the truth. She was proud and haughty and I should think would be very humiliated. The loss of dignity would mean a great deal to her.

“We are living through difficult times. Miss Trant,” she said.

“It might be well if you returned to your country.”

I was sure there was an, even colder glitter in her eyes.

She knows! I thought. She is telling me to get out. I had the impression that she was offering me escape or the consequences of remaining here.

Go home! Leave Maximilian! As if I could! Was he not my husband? But I was sorry for her. I would be sorry for any woman in her position, be she proud princess or humble woodcutter’s daughter.

I knew in that moment that I was going to fight for what was mine.

Because my visit to Dr. Kleine was fresh in my memory, I thought of the children I should have; and it must be my son, not hers, who should be his father’s heir. For myself I did not seek great riches. I knew that I should have been happier if my husband had been in a less exalted position; but for my children I would fight as any other mother would.

“I have no wish to return to my country,” I said.