was heard, and the daughter could as little
produce an apology.

The Baron, who had observed every thing with anxiety and confusion,
said at last, when he saw himself alone with the Baroness; "This letter
has certainly done wonders! Of all that you proposed to yourself with
regard to this perverse girl, not a particle has been executed, you
are, on the contrary, kinder to her than ever. May I not be allowed to
know, from whom it comes, and what it contains?"

The Baroness reddened. "It comes from that Brandenstein," said she with
a tremulous voice: "but the conclusion contains the grossest calumny."

The Baron read: "In the event of your giving, as I firmly hope, a kind
reception to your noble, sorrowing daughter, teazing her under no
pretext whatever, and abandoning all thoughts of marrying her to Baron
Wallen, I promise you the sum which the Baron has to demand of you, and
a considerable loan besides, both without interest, for an indefinite
time. Do not force me into hostilities, or several things may take wind
which do not suit that model of virtue, which the world admires in you.
I may certainly subscribe myself

"Your friend,

"G. Brandenstein."

"This note intimates," said the Baron with a sneer; "that our heroic
Count has large sums at his disposal, and that his American friend or
ward, to whom he plays the part of tutor or steward, is probably a
sufficient simpleton; just according to my idea of the affair from the
beginning. The generous man, as circumstances require, will dip his
hand deep into the purse of his outlandish prodigy, and thus on closer
inspection does the gilding disappear from every puffed out Cato, and
change into copper."

The affair however assumed a different aspect, when the next day a
letter came from Brandenstein, in which he applied for Dorothea's hand
on behalf of his wealthy American. He had convinced himself, so he
wrote, that his friend, with whom he was intimately acquainted, could
be happy with no other being.

Dorothea, who was quite lost in her thoughts and feelings, was
terrified at this proposal; she declined it with vehemence, and it
filled her heart with despair, that the Count, who had seen her whole
soul, could make this proposition. "No feeling then," she sighed in
secret, "not the slightest, for me, that think and dream only of him."

Upon the mother's refusal, followed a s