Valentin, cannot understand what fault
she can find in herself, except perhaps, her somewhat singular opinions
on religious subjects. But I see that it is secretly destroying her
peace of mind, and, as I cannot help her myself, I have had recourse to
you, Herr Doctor, and, just because you are no pedantic schoolmaster, I
think you will soon discover what is the matter with the dear child."

Meantime they had walked down Friedrichstrasse to the Spree, and now
turned the corner to the right. "My house is only a few hundred paces
farther," said the artist. "It would be very difficult for me to make
up my mind to live in any other part of the city. People are always
speaking so contemptuously of our good Spree, and, to be sure, it is by
no means the proudest of our German rivers, nor the poorest just here,
in the midst of Berlin. But, to an artist's eye--apart from the
impression it makes in the open country, and especially in a romantic
spot like the Spreewald--can there be anything more charming than this
view of the canal, bridges, places of lading, water steps, and the
honest old Spree boats, lying so sleepily in the noonday sun, like
great fat crocodiles on the banks of the Nile? Look; the sailors have
already eaten their dinners; only here and there a thin blue column of
smoke, circles upward from some cabin chimney; the husband is lying on
deck, under a piece of sail near his cargo of coal, and his wife
sits beside him holding the baby in her lap, and brushing away the
water-flies. Notice how the brown wood is relieved against the pale
surface of the water, and behind it all, the bright sunlight effect.
See, too, the white Pomeranian, standing on the cabin stairs barking at
the little grey cat in the other boat? Here, in the midst of our
elegant capital, you have a fragment of Holland, as complete as you
could desire."

"You have been in Holland?"

"No; I have never gone so far. But when one has seen their pictures and
the excellent photographs that we have now--but stop a moment if you
please, I must show you something else."

They had just passed some high houses and reached a place, where a
narrow, ditch-like canal, bridged where the street crossed it, emptied
into the Spree. On one side stood the blank wall of a three-story
factory. Opposite was a low hut, very narrow in front, but extending
along the canal to a considerable depth. It seemed to have formerly
opened upon the quay, by a door beside its single w