down prejudices now, it's a sign at least that the light
will eventually conquer the darkness, 'and the day of the noble hearted
(that is to say, your dear brother) will dawn at last.'"

"Although it can't be done? But Edwin, I beg you--"

"My child, that's very evident. We can't strike our tent in winter and
travel fifty miles toward the south, with your poorly patched lungs,
especially as we don't know how the climate there will suit you. Ah! if
the tun could be packed up just as it stands, and sent as freight,
marked 'glass, this side up with care--!'"

They were both silent for a time. Balder held the letter from the
faculty in his hand and seemed to be reading it again. The prize essay
was mentioned in the most flattering terms, its special merits dwelt
upon, and a private letter added from the dean, in which he emphasized
the wish to obtain such promising young talent for the university.

Edwin had gone to his desk and was beginning to cut a pen.

"Are you still studying the letter, child?" he asked carelessly. "They
write in a very pleasant style in that neighborhood, don't they? Well,
we will do ourselves credit too."

"Does _she_ know it yet?" asked Balder, without looking up.

"She? What are you thinking about? I haven't seen her for a fortnight.
Besides, what interest would she take in it? It'll be time enough to
tell her when I make my next visit, and she won't even be curious about
the prize essay. Such a duchess!"

Balder quietly rose, laid the letter on the table and said: "You'll not
hurt my feelings by refusing this, Edwin. I can spend the winter here
if necessary and join you in the spring. You know what excellent care I
shall have in your absence, and I shall never be really well again. But
the most important thing is to first talk the matter over with her.
There's no obstacle in the way now."

"Child!" exclaimed Edwin, throwing aside his pen, "do you want to drive
me mad--that you represent as possible things, which once for all--But
no, it's folly to even speak of it seriously. Come, let's eat our
dinner, I hear them bringing it and since the knowledge has come to me
that we possess fifty ducats, I feel as hungry as a millionaire--or no,
millionaires are never hungry--I'm hungry as a man who has never seen
fifty ducats at once in his whole life."

The door opened. But instead of the maid-servant who usually brought
the dinner, little Jean entered, his round face with its staring blue
eye