ans on your behalf."

"I thank you," he exclaimed joyously, taking her hand and kissing it.
"Now I am free from all anxiety. A true friend is certainly one of the
greatest blessings under heaven. I will go this moment to the landlord,
and order a carriage."

"Your wooer's wings must submit however to some delay. Or do you expect
me to perform the part you have forced upon me in my morning dress and
cap?"

"In truth," he replied, "I never noticed that. In my opinion you might
boldly drive to L---- in your present attire. The hair so pushed back
under your cap, shows your fair temples to advantage, I am enabled
again to admire those unruly meshes in your neck which in former days
ensnared my poor heart, like a fish struggling in a net."

She held up her finger threateningly, and then said, while a sudden
blush suffused her face: "Take care, else I will betray you to your
future bride. Your triple courtship, however, excuses the disregard
with which you treat the toilette of an old friend. Here are some
books; amuse yourself in the meantime; I will be back presently."

She disappeared into the adjoining room and closed the door behind her.

He approached the table on which the apple lay, and after pensively
gazing at it for a while, he suddenly gave it an angry push, which sent
it flying over the edge of the table, and rolling across the carpet. He
sighed, and as if to rouse himself struck his hand with his whip till
it smarted. He then mechanically took up one of the books which lay in
the corner of the sofa. It was a volume of Moerike's poems, and they
exercised on him their powerful charm. He forgot all around him, and
drawn on from page to page was soon completely absorbed in "The moonlit
path of love once sacred."

Suddenly the door from the passage opened and a lad of about ten years
rushed into the room.

"Mother," he cried, "will you allow me---- Why to be sure she is not
here," he then said to himself, and turned his sharp clear eyes
inquiringly on the stranger. "Come here, my boy," said Valentine
stretching out his hand to him. "Your mother is dressing in the next
room. What is your name?"

"Fred is my name."

"Won't you give me your hand, Fred?"

The lad hesitated. "Who are you?" he asked partly embarrassed, partly
defiant.

"I am an old acquaintance of your mother's. She will not object to your
giving me your hand. So, that is right. Will you come to see me some
day? I have four handsome horses