hed by a
spring and approached his offended friend, who had seated herself on a
sofa and tried to look resolutely away.

"Dear lady," said he, "first hear how it all happened. It was precisely
because we all have so much respect for you, that we wanted to reflect
a little and discuss the matter among ourselves, before we asked your
consent. It came upon me like a thunder clap. And amid all the
happiness--you may believe me--the thought of what you would say to it
never left my mind a moment. You best know how I submit to your
authority, and how willingly I yield to the gentle yoke, though you
often treat me worse than my long years of love and loyalty deserve.
But this time--no! I could not ask you first. Tell me yourself: if your
child had fallen into the river and a man was ready to pull her out,
would you first ask what faith he had? Now you see, although I know you
don't like the doctor--"

"Doctor Marquard? That marriage-hater and Don Juan? That child of the
world in the worst meaning of the word--and our Leah?--"

"God forbid, my dear friend, this time your prophetic soul leaves you
in the lurch. But I scarcely know whether the right man will not seem
still more frightful to you. You see, I'm perhaps a weak Christian, at
any rate weaker than you, and as for the higher branches of theology,
you've more in your little finger than I in my whole artist skull. And
yet--I too felt a little alarmed when the children came to me and
confessed what had never entered my mind, that dear godless fellow of a
philosopher--"

"Edwin? Doctor Edwin? Oh! my presentiments!"

"Yes, indeed," said the little artist, "no other than the dismissed
teacher, who now wishes to continue the interrupted lessons all his
life. Do you think my poor daughter's rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes
consoled me at once for the destruction of my hopes in regard to her
religious life? But, as I said before, only a monster of a father would
have had the heart to say no, when the life of his only child was at
stake. Or if that word is too harsh--it would have inquired a martyr of
the dark ages, to prefer to see his child pine away and die, rather
than live and be happy with an unbeliever. And that her sickness was
only concealed love and that she would have wasted away without Edwin,
I saw plainly enough at dinner, when simply because he sat beside her
and looked tenderly into her face, she suddenly, in spite of her
happiness, felt an appetite she has not