up a charming vision--a pensive face, and
the turn of a graceful head resting on snowy shoulders, a pair of
admirably moulded arms, of that smooth pearly white, which art so
rarely renders, and is but too apt to turn the head of the artist who
attempts it.

Almost half the week had been spent in this desultory way, when one
morning the Meister called up Walter, and believing the ceiling of the
shell-gallery to be finished, all except the centre-piece, he gave him
an old engraving to sketch in with charcoal in the necessarily
increased proportions. The Meister proposed to be there before twelve
o'clock, to see if the sketch would do. It was an engraving after
Claude Lorraine, with some architecture in the foreground, set off by a
group of lofty trees. As for the sunrise in the background, that, the
Meister thought, he should like to do himself.

Walter set off with far more alacrity than usual. His task allured him;
frequent practice had made him quick at landscape-drawing, whereas he
always preferred to leave the figures to his comrades.

The ceiling had been originally planned with a centre-piece of
allegorical figures; but, of course, since Peter Lars' defection, that
was not to be thought of now.

Walter was just thinking of this disagreeable personage, and rejoicing
in his absence, when he heard a voice behind him, and looking round, he
saw the very man coming after him at a brisk pace. He stopped, and
waited for him with an instinct of vague curiosity. He wanted to
discover why he had been so suddenly turned off--he had heard no
particulars.

The black-faced little fellow, who was walking along in full travelling
trim, with staff and knapsack, appeared to be in his happiest mood; his
pursed-up lips wore their sliest sneer, with even more decided mischief
in it than usual. His eyebrows were drawn up to his cap, and as he
called after Walter, his voice sounded like the treble tones of a
chaffing boy.

"You are the very man I wanted to see;" he began, even before he had
come up with him. "Scheiden und meiden thut weh!--partings are
grievous, you know; and though I could have done all my partings with
my principal in writing, well enough, I wished to take leave of you,
for I had a thing or two to tell you, that would not have done quite so
well in a letter. So if your people did not forbid you to contaminate
yourself with an outlawed miscreant like myself, I will walk your way
with you a bit."

"As you please