t vowed to agree to all my wishes, and are you justified in
refusing a kiss to your betrothed. Come now let us seal our engagement
as students seal their fellowship. We have not yet done so."

"That is right!" exclaimed their host. "This is only new wine, but in
the cellar...."

"Don't trouble yourself my dear friend; is not new wine sweet, turbid,
and intoxicating like first love. And you must know, Doctor, that the
fair charmer before you has been worshipped by me from the time I
entered college and though fate parted us in later days. 'Old love
fades not,' as the people say, and you know that 'the voice of the
people, is the voice of the gods.' So We will perform the sacred act
with none other but new wine. Fill your glass. Doctor!"

He had risen with these words and again turned towards Eugenie, with
two full glasses in his hand. She sat on the sofa suffused with
blushes, and her eyes fixed on the ground. Maidenly confusion sealed
her lips, she tried to speak, but could not utter a word, so she took
the glass mechanically. He then knelt before her, twined his arm within
hers after the fashion of the students and emptied his glass at one
draught. She took a sip from hers with half averted face. Valentine
then threw away his glass and kissed her lips.[6]

"That's right," said the doctor. "You need not blush fair lady, if an
old man like myself is present at so solemn an act. All I ask as a
reward for my good offices, is that I should be permitted to assist at
the wedding."

Valentine silently nodded, and remained standing for a while before
her, pensively gazing on her calm brow.

"My dear Doctor," he then began, "you must make some allowance for two
people who are nearly out of their senses with joy. It is no trifling
matter, I assure my dear friend, when one's betrothal is only of
a few hours standing; particularly as this cruel lady love of mine
tormented me so relentlessly with her wicked tricks, and her apparent
indifference struck me dumb, and made me feel as timorous as a bashful
youth. It was so years ago, when she was still in her mother's house,
and I used often to think that I should no longer be able to stand it,
but must plunge into the water to cool my smarting wounds. Then when we
again met after many years of separation she was just the same. How
often, by some jesting word has she not checked the confession which
hovered on my lips, that my feelings for her had remained unaltered;
and who knows