nd things, and remain with them for
a time, in order to have the secret pleasure of thinking of the
treasure he concealed in his bosom; as in times of special happiness,
when the lofty joys we experience render our sleep full of dreams, we
wake, turn from one to another and reflect that the joy we feel on
awaking, is the only real and actual experience.

Mohr did not return home. When Edwin had ransacked his room, looked
through his books, and softly struck a few chords on Christiane's
piano, which Mohr had bought at the sale of her effects, he at last
resolved to go home. He was delighted to see Franzelius, but did not
tell him one word of the subject that was occupying his thoughts. But
as he fancied he read in his friend's honest countenance something like
a reproach that Edwin could be so cheerful, almost wantonly gay, when
Balder had scarcely been dead five months, he took his hand, and said
gravely: "Franzel, I know of what you're thinking. But have patience
with me a little while. Signs and wonders happen, and a dry stick which
seemed fit for nothing except to be hacked to pieces and cast into the
fire, suddenly puts forth green branches. If _he_ had lived to see
this, I really believe the joy and wonder would have prevented his
death, we should have kept him here."

Then the next morning, when he opened his eyes and saw the sunbeams
playing among the palms, he could not help thinking of a verse of
poetry he had read somewhere, and as Franzelius had long since risen
and gone to his printing office, he softly repeated it:

How pleasant to wake in the bright morning's glow
When one has lain down with a soul full of love.
And hear in our wonder the heart laughing low
And know not the music that maketh it move,
Till full soon the radiant light comes, and low
The purple veil is withdrawn from above,
Revealing the vision of love just dawning,
Nodding and murm'ring: "Good morning! Good morning!"

He started up and hurriedly threw on his clothes. All hesitation was
over, and he now reproached himself for having waited yesterday to see
whether other thoughts would come during the night. If it had been
admissible to make a call at nine o'clock in the morning, he would have
rushed off without his breakfast. But he allowed another hour to pass,
and then in the brightest of spring sunlight, turned his steps toward
the Schiffbauerdamm and the lagune.

"Where are you hurryi