rner and Frau Boltze put what had occurred
in the right light to my mother--nay, when she saw how I grieved over my
separation from the young girl whose charms still filled my heart and
mind, her displeasure was transformed into compassion. She also saw how
difficult it was for me to meet the friends and guardian who had expected
me to return as a graduate, and drew her darling, whom for the first time
she called her "poor boy," still closer to her heart.

Then we consulted about the future, and it was decided that I should
graduate from the gymnasium of beautiful Quedlinburg. Professor Schmidt's
house was warmly recommended, and was chosen for my home.

I set out for my new abode full of the best resolutions. But at Magdeburg
I saw in a show window a particularly tasteful bonnet trimmed with lilies
of the valley and moss-rose buds. The sight brought Clara's face framed
in it vividly be fore my eyes, and drew me into the shop. It was a Paris
pattern-hat and very expensive, but I spent the larger part of my
pocket-money in purchasing it and ordered it to be sent to the girl whose
image still filled my whole soul. Hitherto I had given her nothing except
a small locket and a great many flowers.

CHAPTER XX.

AT THE QUEDLINBURG GYMNASIUM

The atmosphere of Quedlinburg was far different from that of the Mark
factory town of Kottbus. How fresh, how healthful, how stimulating to
industry and out-door exercise it was!

Everything in the senior class was just as it should be.

In Kottbus the pupils addressed each other formally. There were at the
utmost, I think, not more than half a dozen with whom I was on terms of
intimacy. In Quedlinburg a beautiful relation of comradeship united all
the members of the school. During study hours we were serious, but in the
intervals we were merry enough.

Its head, Professor Richter, the learned editor of the fragments of
Sappho, did not equal Tzschirner in keenness of intellect and bewitching
powers of description, yet we gladly followed the worthy man's
interpretations.

Many a leisure day and hour we spent in the beautiful Hartz Mountains.
But, best of all, was my home in Quedlinburg, the house of my tutor,
Professor Adalbert Schmidt, an admirable man of forty, who seemed
extremely gentle and yielding, but when necessary could be very
peremptory, and allowed those under his charge to make no trespass on his
authority.

His wife was a model of amiable, almost timid womanl