eart or a wife?"

"Not at all," said Lothair, "although there is a great deal to be said
on the extensive question of how far humour is a feminine quality or
otherwise; and I hereby reserve the privilege of hereafter addressing
my worthy Serapion Brethren, at a suitable opportunity, on this
important question, with a fulness and wisdom with which no
psychologist has as yet discussed it. But, as a general query, let me
ask you, Theodore, if you consider it essentially necessary to think of
every superior woman, with whom one may have a little rational
conversation, in the light of a sweetheart or wife?"

"I think," said Theodore, "that any feminine being can only really
interest one if one, at all events, does not shrink from the idea of
her as a sweetheart or wife, and that, the more this idea finds
comfortable room in one's mind, the greater is the interest."

"That," said Ottmar, laughing, "is one of Theodore's most daring
theories, which I know well of old. He has always acted up to it, and
often coolly turned his back upon many a charming creature, because he
couldn't manage to fancy himself in love with her for an hour or two.
Even as a dancing student, he used to declare, earnestly, that he gave
his heart to every girl he danced with, at all events while the waltz
or quadrille lasted; and he used to try to express in his 'steps' what
his lips were forbidden to utter, and sigh as profoundly as his stock
of breath would let him."

"Allow me," said Theodore, "to interrupt this un-Serapiontish
conversation. It is late; and I should be sorry not to read you,
to-night, a tale which I finished yesterday. The spirit moved me to
treat, rather more fully than has been done previously, a well-known
_thema_ concerning a miner at Falun; and you must decide whether I have
done well to yield to the spirit's prompting, or not. I have had to
keep my colouring down to a melancholy tone, which may perhaps contrast
unfavourably with Cyprian's more cheerful picture. Forgive me this, and
lend me a favourable ear."

Theodore read:--

"THE MINES OF FALUN.

"One bright, sunny day in July the whole population of Goethaborg was
assembled at the harbour. A fine East-Indiaman, happily returned from
her long voyage, was lying at anchor, with her long, homeward-bound
pennant, and the Swedish flag fluttering gaily in the azure sky.
Hundreds of boats, skiffs, and other small craft, thronged with
rejoicing seafol