p. But the first
glance at my small low room reconciled me quickly to the thought
that this was to be my last earthly habitation. That old fashioned
writing-table with the brass mountings looks like the twin-brother of
the one which stood in my dear mother's room. That arm-chair is just as
high and heavy, and as brown with age, as the one she used. A few bad
prints on the wall, which disturbed me, I immediately took down, and
hung up the portraits of my parents instead. It now seems to me as if I
had been at home here for years. In one of the comers on a black wooden
console stands a crucifix which though I have not been brought up to
it, causes me deep reflection. I have received all my books. My father
sent them after me and now I want nothing more. At the same time he
wrote me just such a letter as I expected from him. That trait of
conforming oneself to what is unalterable without further struggle, I
have inherited from him. Six lines from Ernest to tell me that he is
very happy at school with his little comrades, and a greeting from my
stepmother; at least, the letter contains one, but probably my father
has added it without asking. Now I will write home. How much more
freely could I do so, if I knew that my letters reached my father's
hands only.

The 10th--Evening.

What strange people one meets with! An hour ago I was sitting, quite
unsuspicious of any interruption, at my window reading, and enjoying
the mild evening breeze--the sun now sets at five o'clock behind the
Marlinger mountain, yet the air retains the mildness of a summer
evening, and the tips of the high mountains to the East, a ruddy glow,
for many hours longer--when there came a knock at the door, and a short
stout lady, quite unknown to me, entered coolly, and introduced herself
to me, expressing a most cordial desire to make my acquaintance. She
had seen me on the Wassermauer the only time I had walked there, and
had immediately taken a great interest in me, for I was evidently very
ill and very lonely, and she had resolved to speak to me the next time
we met, hoping to be of some use to me.

"For you must know, my dear child, that I, as I stand before you, am
fifty-nine years old, and have not been ill for one day, except during
my confinements. My two sons, and three daughters are also, thank
heaven, perfectly healthy, and are all of them married and settled in
life. But you see I have always