rise from the sofa, but
sank to the floor near his chair, the very picture of sorrowful
submission. "You do not deceive me," murmured she; "do with us what you
will."

A proud smile passed over Fink's face as he bent over her, wound his arm
round her head, pressed a kiss on her hair, and said, "My comrade, I
will that you should be free." Lenore's head fell on his breast; she
wept, softly supported by his arm; at last taking her hand, he pressed
it tenderly. "Henceforth let us understand each other. You shall be
free, Lenore, both as regards me and all others. You are losing one who
has shown you the self-sacrificing tenderness of a brother, and I am
glad that he is leaving you. I do not yet ask you whether you will share
my fate as my wife, for you are not now free to answer as your heart
dictates. Your pride shall not say me nay, and your 'yes' shall not
lessen your self-respect. When the curse that lies on your house is done
away with, and you are free to remain with or leave me, your decision
shall be made. Till then, an honorable friendship, comrade mine!"

And now Fink went on in another voice: "Let us think of nothing but our
property; dry up those tears, which I am not fond of seeing in your blue
eyes, and impart the business half of my proposal to your father and
mother. If not before, I request an answer by this time to-morrow."

Lenore went to the door, then returned, and silently offered him her
hand.

Slowly Fink returned to his friend's room. "Do you remember, Anton,"
asked he, "what you told me of your patriotism the day of my arrival
here?"

"We have often spoken on the subject since then."

"It made an impression on me," continued Fink. "This property shall not
fall again under a Bratzky's sceptre. I shall buy it if the baron
consents."

Anton started. "And Lenore?"

"She will share her parents' fate; we have just settled that." He then
told his friend the offer he had made.

"Now I hope that all will end well," cried Anton. "We shall see."

"What a purgatory for the sinner up stairs! I am glad I don't hear his
groans!" said Fink.

The following morning the servant brought each of the friends a letter
from the baron's room; the one of apology and thanks to Anton, the other
of acceptance to Fink. These they read, and then silently exchanged.

"So the matter is settled," cried Fink, at length. "I have run half over
the world, and every where found something to object to; and now I bury
my