ren sollst du; sollst entbehren."

It flitted rhythmically through my mind on this dreamful morning, when I
seemed a stranger to myself; or rather, when I seemed to stand outside
myself, and contemplate, calmly and judicially, the heart which had of
late beaten and throbbed with such vivid, and such unreasoning,
unconnected pangs. It is as painful and as humiliating a description of
self-vivisection as there is, and one not without its peculiar merits.

The end of my reflections was the same as that which is, I believe,
often arrived at by the talented class called philosophers, who spend
much learning and science in going into the questions about whose skirts
I skimmed; many of them, like me, after summing up, say, _Cui bono?_

So passed the morning, and the gray cloud still hung over my spirits. My
landlady brought me a slice of _kuchen_ at dinner-time, for Christmas,
and wished me _guten appetit_ to it, for which I thanked her with
gravity.

In the afternoon I turned to the piano. After all it was Christmas-day.
After beginning a bravura singing exercise, I suddenly stopped myself,
and found myself, before I knew what I was about, singing the "Adeste
Fidelis"--till I could not sing any more. Something rose in my
throat--ceasing abruptly, I burst into tears, and cried plentifully over
the piano keys.

"In tears, Fraeulein May! _Aber_--what does that mean?"

I looked up. Von Francius stood in the door-way, looking not unkindly at
me, with a bouquet in his hand of Christmas roses and ferns.

"It is only because it is Christmas," said I.

"Are you quite alone?"

"Yes."

"So am I."

"You! But you have so many friends."

"Have I? It is true, that if friends count by the number of invitations
that one has, I have many. Unfortunately I could not make up my mind to
accept any. As I passed through the flower-market this morning I thought
of you--naturally. It struck me that perhaps you had no one to come and
wish you the Merry Christmas and Happy New-year which belongs to you of
right, so I came, and have the pleasure to wish it you now, with these
flowers, though truly they are not _Maibluemchen_."

He raised my hand to his lips, and I was quite amazed at the sense of
strength, healthiness, and new life which his presence brought.

"I am very foolish," I remarked; "I ought to know better. But I am
unhappy about my sister, and also I have been foolishly thinking of old
times, when she and I were at home togeth