e. I thought then that
if obliged to ask for temporary help, I should come to you: so you see
if you have trusted me, I, too, have trusted you."

A smile passed over the Disagreeable Man's face, one of his rare,
beautiful smiles.

"Supposing you change your mind," he said quietly, "you will not find
that I have changed mine."

Then a few minutes brought them back to Petershof.

CHAPTER XVIII.

A BETROTHAL.

HE had loved her so patiently, and now he felt that he must have his
answer. It was only fair to her, and to himself too, that he should know
exactly where he stood in her affections. She had certainly given him
little signs here and there, which had made him believe that she was not
indifferent to his admiration. Little signs were all very well for a
short time; but meanwhile the season was coming to an end: she had told
him that she was going back to her work at home. And then perhaps he
would lose her altogether. It would not be safe now for him to delay a
single day longer. So the little postman armed himself with courage.

Waerli's brain was muddled that day. He who prided himself upon knowing
the names of all the guests in Petershof, made the most absurd mistakes
about people and letters too; and received in acknowledgment of his
stupidity a series of scoldings which would have unnerved a stronger
person than the little hunchback postman.

In fact, he ceased to care how he gave out the letters: all the
envelopes seemed to have the same name on them: _Marie Truog_. Every
word which he tried to decipher turned to that; so finally he tried no
more, leaving the destination of the letter to be decided by the
impulse of the moment. At last he arrived at that quarter of the
Kurhaus where Marie held sway. He heard her singing in her pantry.
Suddenly she was summoned downstairs by an impatient bellringer,
and on her return found Waerli waiting in the passage.

"What a goose you are!" she cried, throwing a letter at him; "you have
left the wrong letter at No. 82."

Then some one else rang, and Marie hurried off again. She came back with
another letter in her hand, and found Waerli sitting in her pantry.

"The wrong letter left at No. 54," she said, "and Madame in a horrid
temper in consequence. What a nuisance you are to-day, Waerli! Can't you
read? Here, give the remaining letters to me. I'll sort them."

Waerli took off his little round hat, and wiped his forehead.

"I can't read to-day, Marie," he