?"

"A bed-bug makes its way everywhere."

"You're right, Franzel!" replied Mohr with an angry laugh. Then
twisting his under lip awry, muttered: "Eternal Gods! I would not have
believed that a man could fall low enough to envy a bed-bug!"

BOOK II.

CHAPTER I.

He who undertakes to tell a "true story"--and ours is as fully attested
as any a novelist ever gathered from family archives--he who represents
life, as it is experienced, not imagined, must be prepared for all
sorts of objections and contradictions. The most improbable events, as
is well known, are those which most frequently happen, and on the other
hand nothing meets with less credence than that which nobody doubts;
though there are exceptions to the rule. Even on the stage we are not
accustomed to have a lover play a character part, any more than it will
be obvious to the readers of this entirely veracious history, when we
report the authentic fact that Edwin, faithful to his voluntary vow,
actually waited until the end of the week before he again entered the
dangerous house in Jaegerstrasse, nay that he even put his resolution to
a still harder test, by waiting until the afternoon and occupying
himself during the morning as usual. Our knowledge of the age he had
attained before being attacked by love, only renders the matter the
more incredible, as childish diseases are always more violent when
contracted in riper years. We have as yet seen too few tests of his
philosophy, of the influence of this stern science upon his character,
to be able to derive any explanation of his stoical abstinence. But
whatever share it may have had in his conduct, when on that Saturday
afternoon, he at last entered the memorable street, he found himself in
anything but a philosophical mood. The hand with which he stroked
Balder's hair trembled perceptibly; instead of the two little volumes
of Wilhelm Meister he intended to put in his pocket, he only took the
second, and the volume which with its mysterious beauties might almost
bear away the palm from her own Balzac. He answered Feyertag, who
endeavored to draw him into a learned conversation as he crossed the
courtyard, so confusedly, that the worthy man was greatly delighted and
told his wife the Herr Doctor, was beginning to feel a proper respect
for his intelligence; he had said things to him to-day so terribly
learned, that they were almost