"
It was eight o'clock by this time, and Wilhelm really felt the want
of rest. But before going to his room he asked after his godson,
little Willy. Malvine was evidently expecting this, she ran to the
door and called into the next room: "Come here, Willy--come quick--
Uncle Eynhardt is here and wants to see you." Whereupon the boy came
bounding in, and threw himself with a shout of delight upon
Wilhelm's neck. Willy was still his mother's only child. He was
nearly six years old, not very tall for his age, but a fine,
handsome, thoroughly healthy child, with firm legs, a blooming
complexion, the dark eyes of his grandmother, and long fair curls.
He was charmingly dressed in a sailor suit with a broad turned-back
collar over a blue-and-white striped jersey, long black stockings,
and pretty little patent leather shoes with silk ties. Wilhelm
lifted up this young prince, kissing him, and asked, "Well, Willy,
do you remember me?" He had not seen, him for eighteen months.
"Of course, I do, uncle, we talk about you every day," cried the
child in his clear voice. "Are you going to stay with us now?"
"Yes, that he is!" his father answered for the friend.
"How jolly! how jolly!" cried Willy, clapping his hands with glee.
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