“In the German tradition, is it not?” said the American. “At least I have found it so during my years here.”

“Indeed,” laughed the baron. “We ate lightly this noon in anticipation of your coming. We will dine this evening at six, in the American tradition. Tomorrow, we shall dine at one, after the German custom.”

“It is you who should be the diplomat, Baron von Dortmann,” interjected Matthew.

“We try to make our guests feel comfortable and at home,” added their hostess.

“Do you have guests frequently?” asked McCallum.

“I do not know if frequently is the word, but certainly regularly,” answered Frau von Dortmann. “Yes, we have all kinds of guests here—personal friends, acquaintances, sometimes people we do not even know.”

“I know about German hospitality, but that seems curious even—”

He was interrupted by the entrance of two maids carrying trays—one containing pots of coffee and tea, the other containing several delicate cakes, a torte with several layers of cream and chocolate filling, and a smaller fruit-topped sponge cake. They set them down on an oak sideboard and proceeded to serve the hosts and their guests.

It was Baron von Dortmann who resumed the thread of the conversation a minute or two later.

“Perhaps you noticed the words in old script above the door of the house when you entered,” he said.

“Yes, I did, though to be honest I did not pause to be thorough in my attempted interpretation. Tell me again what they said.”

“The inscription reads Ein Landhaus Für Leben Und Zurückgezogenheit,” answered the baron.

“All but the last is clear enough.”

“Literally it would be translated: A country house for life and seclusion and solitude. I suppose the nearest English word to incorporate all that into it would be A Retreat, or perhaps A Country Hideaway, but translating such subtleties from one tongue to another is always difficult. So over the years our estate has simply come to be known as Lebenshaus, or House of Life. Technically it’s inaccurate German. It ought to be Haus des Lebens. But I wanted a single-word name, and since we are a multilingual family, I decided to take a liberty with my mother tongue.”

“I think I gather the meaning. Sort of a spa for the soul, you might call it.”

“Exactly! I like that, McCallum—a spa for the soul! Most well put!” The baron laughed heartily.

“What does it all mean?” asked Matthew. “You’ve explained the words, but not the whys behind them.”

“This is a perceptive young man you have here, Herr McCallum,” said Frau von Dortmann. “He knows just the right questions to ask.”

“I too am curious about the meaning of the inscription,” said Thaddeus. “The meaning behind the meaning.”