find a resting-place to-day.
Again the fire crackled and the pendulum swung; but the fir-logs burned
right merrily, throwing out small <i>feux de joie</i> through the stove door,
and the clock kept constantly ticking to her ear, "He is come! he is
there!"

The door opened and the cousin came bustling in. "What do I hear?" cried
she. "Is it possible? Franz will have it that Wohlfart is with your
brother."

"He is," said Sabine, with averted face.

"What new mystery is this?" continued the cousin, in a tone of
discontent. "Why does not Traugott bring him here? and why is not his
room got ready? How can you stand there so quietly, Sabine? I declare I
don't understand you."

"I am waiting," whispered Sabine, pressing her wrists firmly, for her
hands trembled.

At that moment footsteps were heard nearing the room; the merchant cried
out at the door, "Here is our guest." And while Anton and the cousin
were exchanging friendly greetings, he went on to say, "Mr. Wohlfart
will spend a few weeks with us, till he has found such a situation as I
should wish for him." The cousin heard this announcement with intense
surprise, and Sabine shifted the cups and saucers to conceal her
emotion; but neither made any remark, and the lively conversation
carried on at the tea-table served to disguise the agitation which all
shared. Each had many questions to hear and answer, for it had been a
year rich in events. It is true that a certain constraint was visible
in Anton's manner while speaking of his foreign life, of Fink and the
German colony on the Polish estate, and that Sabine listened with
drooping head. But the merchant got more and more animated; and when
Anton rose to retire, the face of the former wore its good-humored smile
of old, and heartily shaking his guest's hand, he said in jest, "Sleep
well, and be sure to notice your first dream; they say it is sure to
come to pass."

And when Anton was gone, the merchant drew his sister into the unlighted
ante-room, kissed her brow, and whispered in her ear, "He has remained
uncorrupted, I hope so now with all my soul;" and when they both
returned to the lamp-light, his eyes were moist, and he began to rally
the cousin upon her secret partiality for Wohlfart, till the good lady
clasped her hands and exclaimed, "The man is fairly demented to-day!"

Weary and exhausted, Anton threw himself upon his bed. The future
appeared to him joyless, and he dreaded the inner conflict of the nex