At last the sufferer said: "There is one more, but I have not the courage to--O my lost Catharina!" One of the old dames said: "Ah, I knew her well, poor soul.

A misfortune overtook her lover, and she died of sorrow nearly fifty years ago.

She lieth under the linden tree without the court." Conrad bowed his head and said: "Ah, why did I ever wake! And so she died of grief for me, poor child.
So young, so sweet, so good! She never wittingly did a hurtful thing in all the little summer of her life.

Her loving debt shall be repaid--for I will die of grief for her." His head drooped upon his breast.

In the moment there was a wild burst of joyous laughter, a pair of round young arms were flung about Conrad's neck and a sweet voice cried: "There, Conrad mine, thy kind words kill me--the farce shall go no further! Look up, and laugh with us--'twas all a jest!" And he did look up, and gazed, in a dazed wonderment--for the disguises were stripped away, and the aged men and women were bright and young and gay again.