is, and he added, "Give me thy hand upon it,
Friedel."

I held out my hand. We had risen, and stood looking steadfastly into
each other's eyes.

"I wish I were--what I might have been--to pay you for this," he said,
hesitatingly, wringing my hand and laying his left for a moment on my
shoulder; then, without another word, went into his room, shutting the
door after him.

I remained still--sadder, gladder than I had ever been before. Never had
I so intensely felt the deep, eternal sorrow of life--that sorrow which
can be avoided by none who rightly live; yet never had life towered
before me so rich and so well worth living out, so capable of high
exultation, pure purpose, full satisfaction, and sufficient reward. My
quarrel with existence was made up.

CHAPTER XVII.

"The merely great are, all in all,
No more than what the merely small
Esteem them. Man's opinion
Neither conferred nor can remove
_This_ man's dominion."

Three years passed--an even way. In three years there happened little of
importance--little, that is, of open importance--to either of us. I read
that sentence again, and can not help smiling; "to either of us." It
shows the progress that our friendship has made. Yes, it had grown every
day.

I had no past, painful or otherwise, which I could even wish to conceal;
I had no thought that I desired hidden from the man who had become my
other self. What there was of good in me, what of evil, he saw. It was
laid open to him, and he appeared to consider that the good predominated
over the bad; for, from that first day of meeting, our intimacy went on
steadily in one direction--increasing, deepening. He was six years
older than I was. At the end of this time of which I speak he was
one-and-thirty, I five-and-twenty; but we met on equal ground--not that
I had anything approaching his capacities in any way. I do not think
that had anything to do with it. Our happiness did not depend on
mental supremacy. I loved him--because I could not help it; he me,
because--upon my word, I can think of no good reason--probably because
he did.

And yet we were as unlike as possible. He had habits of reckless
extravagance, or what seemed to me reckless extravagance, and a lordly
manner (when he forgot himself) of speaking of things, which absolutely
appalled my economical burgher soul. I had certain habits, too, the
outcomes of my training, and my sparing, middle-class way of living,
which I saw puzz