nuine honesty
and simplicity of his character plainly shone, winning confidence and
affection from all who knew him.

Among these was a certain amiable old lady with a musical
daughter--well-born but poor, and very anxious to marry the aforesaid
daughter to some wealthy man. Nat's little fictions concerning his
prospects and friends charmed the gnadige Frau as much as his music and
devoted manners did the sentimental Minna. Their quiet parlour seemed
homelike and restful to Nat, when tired of gayer scenes; and the
motherly interest of the elder lady was sweet and comfortable to him;
while the tender blue eyes of the pretty girl were always so full of
welcome when he came, of regret when he left, and of admiration when
he played to her, that he found it impossible to keep away from this
attractive spot. He meant no harm, and feared no danger, having confided
to the Frau Mamma that he was betrothed; so he continued to call, little
dreaming what ambitious hopes the old lady cherished, nor the peril
there was in receiving the adoration of a romantic German girl, till it
was too late to spare her pain and himself great regret.

Of course some inkling of these new and agreeable experiences got into
the voluminous letters he never was too gay, too busy, or too tired
to write each week; and while Daisy rejoiced over his happiness and
success, and the boys laughed at the idea of 'old Chirper coming out as
a society man', the elders looked sober, and said among themselves:

'He is going too fast; he must have a word of warning, or trouble may
come.'

But Mr Laurie said: 'Oh, let him have his fling; he's been dependent and
repressed long enough. He can't go far with the money he has, and I've
no fear of his getting into debt. He's too timid and too honest to be
reckless. It is his first taste of freedom; let him enjoy it, and he'll
work the better by and by; I know--and I'm sure I'm right.'

So the warnings were very gentle, and the good people waited anxiously
to hear more of hard study, and less of 'splendid times'. Daisy
sometimes wondered, with a pang of her faithful heart, if one of the
charming Minnas, Hildegardes, and Lottchens mentioned were not stealing
her Nat away from her; but she never asked, always wrote calmly and
cheerfully, and looked in vain for any hint of change in the letters
that were worn out with much reading.

Month after month slipped away, till the holidays came with gifts, good
wishes, and brilli