ed his friends at home. The manliness
over which Mrs Jo rejoiced was developing in unexpected ways, and quiet
Nat had plunged into the more harmless dissipations of the gay city
with all the ardour of an inexperienced youth taking his first sip of
pleasure. The entire freedom and sense of independence was delicious,
for many benefits began to burden him, and he longed to stand on his
own legs and make his own way. No one knew his past here; and with a
well-stocked wardrobe, a handsome sum at his banker's, and the best
teacher in Leipzig, he made his debut as a musical young gentleman,
presented by the much-respected Professor Bhaer and the wealthy Mr
Laurence, who had many friends glad to throw open their houses to
his protege. Thanks to these introductions, his fluent German, modest
manners, and undeniable talent, the stranger was cordially welcomed, and
launched at once into a circle which many an ambitious young man strove
in vain to enter.

All this rather turned Nat's head; and as he sat in the brilliant
opera-house, chatted among the ladies at some select coffee-party, or
whisked an eminent professor's amiable daughter down the room, trying to
imagine she was Daisy, he often asked himself if this gay fellow could
be the poor homeless little Street musician who once stood waiting in
the rain at the gates of Plumfield. His heart was true, his impulses
good, and his ambitions high; but the weak side of his nature came
uppermost here; vanity led him astray, pleasure intoxicated him, and for
a time he forgot everything but the delights of this new and charming
life. Without meaning to deceive, he allowed people to imagine him a
youth of good family and prospects; he boasted a little of Mr Laurie's
wealth and influence, of Professor Bhaer's eminence, and the flourishing
college at which he himself had been educated. Mrs Jo was introduced to
the sentimental Frauleins who read her books, and the charms and virtues
of his own dear Madchen confided to sympathetic mammas. All these boyish
boastings and innocent vanities were duly circulated among the
gossips, and his importance much increased thereby, to his surprise and
gratification, as well as some shame.

But they bore fruit that was bitter in the end; for, finding that he was
considered one of the upper class, it very soon became impossible
for him to live in the humble quarters he had chosen, or to lead the
studious, quiet life planned for him. He met other students,