nd."

I have seen him again. I had avoided him those last days. Though I am
quite determined to go my own way; still they have succeeded in robbing
me of my first unconstraint. But to-day I met him at the bookseller's
shop, where I was looking out some music. He asked me if I had felt
unwell, as I had not appeared on the Wassermauer. I blushed and
replied, "no, but I had not felt inclined to walk there." Then we
talked about music which he greatly likes. "Once I was in possession of
a voice," he said, smiling; "but it has departed this life before me."
As we came out of the shop I at first wished to bid him adieu, and walk
home alone. Then I felt ashamed of my cowardice, and walked on with him
to the gate which leads on to the Wassermauer. The day was lovely, and
the promenaders walked about with their cloaks on their arms. Only a
few yellow leaves reminded one of October. As we followed the course of
the Passer and passed the benches occupied by the so-called good
society, I was pleased, and happy to feel so much at ease. I tried to
cheer him up and when I had succeeded in making him laugh I applauded
my own spirit which was not to be daunted. I said to myself, "Does it
please you my good people to put on disdainful looks, and to wrap
yourselves up in your own virtue, as much as it does me to see this
pale face, on which death has already cast its shadow, light up with
the serenity of an evening sky." We walked up and down for a whole hour,
and I did not feel in the least tired. This time I closely examined his
countenance. Whatever lies behind him, it can be nothing base or mean.
His features are neither regular nor can they be called expressive, but
when he speaks there is something refined and thoughtful about his face
which becomes him well. He cannot be more than twenty-six years old.
His manners are easy, and natural, and plainly show that he has mixed
in the best society. I, with my provincial style of dress, and little
knowledge of the world, must contrast strangely with him.

I have looked over the book of strangers trying to find out his name;
_before_, I only knew where he lived; I have now discovered that he can
be none other than a Mr. Morrik _Particulier_ from Vienna. What an odd
position! probably it means independent. Then I am a _Particuliere_
with more right to be so than he has. He is dependent on many things;
on his fortune, on his melancholy thoughts--on his servant, who carries
his cloak and furs