ng slowly across the blue sky. He
became absorbed in the spectacle, as if he beheld the most wonderful
pictures, until his eyes ached from staring at the radiant heavens;
then he rose and walked slowly through the room, drawing the lame foot
after him almost as if he were dancing, and from time to time pressing
to his lips the last of the oranges Marquard had recently brought him,
to drink in the fragrance and juice at the same time. Sometimes he
thought of his brother, and how pleasantly the hours must be passing
with him, sometimes of Reginchen, whose voice was distinctly audible in
the front of the house, as she sat at the open windows of the kitchen
working and singing to herself; then he paused before Edwin's book
shelf, drew out at random one of the volumes, with all of which he was
familiar, and read half a page only to restore it to its place again to
meditate on what he had read. He even took up his tools as if to use
them, but remembered that he had promised Edwin to rest at least a
week. True, he considered this rest very unnecessary, for he had never
felt stronger and better, or breathed more freely.

When Reginchen brought up his dinner at noon, she noticed his unusual
gayety and cheerfulness. "Your sickness has done you good, Herr
Walter," said she.

"No," he answered smiling, "it was your nursing, Reginchen."

"Well, it's all the same," she answered. "But why didn't you go into
the country with the Herr Doctor? (she always gave Edwin this title.)
No one who's well would stay at home to-day."

"Are you going into the country too, Reginchen?"

"I indeed! I'm the house dog to-day. My parents went to a christening
at eleven o'clock, the journeymen of course all went off too, and
there's nobody in the house except the old couple; _she's_ sick, and
_he_ to keep her company is sick and cross, too. You may think I am
joking; but just ask their girl. If he even has a cold, she worries so
that she can neither eat nor drink, and is obliged to go to bed. It's
comical, isn't it, but very pleasant to see two old people still so
fond of each other."

"'Still?' I should think people would love each other more and more the
longer they knew each other."

"Certainly! The longer the dearer. But it isn't always so. Would you
like to grow old, Herr Walter?"

"If the people I love grow old with me, certainly."

"I shouldn't," she answered. "I used to think nothing could be worse
than to die. But now--you'll laugh at