CHAPTER IV.
CONCERNING WAeRLI AND MARIE.
WAeRLI, the little hunchback postman, a cheery soul, came whistling up the Kurhaus stairs, carrying with him that precious parcel of registered letters, which gave him the position of being the most important person in Petershof.

He was a linguist, too, was Waerli, and could speak broken English in a most fascinating way, agreeable to every one, but intelligible only to himself.

Well, he came whistling up the stairs when he heard Marie's blithe voice humming her favourite spinning-song.
"Ei, Ei!" he said to himself; "Marie is in a good temper to-day.

I will give her a call as I pass." He arranged his neckerchief and smoothed his curls; and when he reached the end of the landing, he paused outside a little glass-door, and, all unobserved, watched Marie in her pantry cleaning the candlesticks and lamps.
Marie heard a knock, and, looking up from her work, saw Waerli.
"Good day, Waerli," she said, glancing hurriedly at a tiny broken mirror suspended on the wall.

"I suppose you have a letter for me.