and sister went into the
ante-room, a murmur of voices was heard, and a sound uncommonly like
suppressed sobs. When Sabine returned her eyes were very red, but she
looked happy and bashful. When the cousin went into the ante-room on
some pretext or other, the great parcel was lying on a chair; and as she
touched it--of course accidentally--and the paper was not tied up, it
came to pass that she beheld its contents--a variety of exquisite
dresses, and one thing that moved her to tears: it was that white robe
of thickest silk which a woman only wears once in her life--on one
solemn day of devout and trembling joy.

From that moment the cousin went about her avocations with the
comfortable confidence of a good housewife, who forgives people, even
though for a season they do behave themselves foolishly, knowing that
the end of it all will be great excitement in her own especial
province--hard work in the kitchen, a long bill of fare, great slaughter
of fowls, and immense consumption of preserved fruit. She, too, waxed
mysterious now. The store-room was subjected to a careful inspection,
and new dishes often appeared at dinner. On such days the cousin would
come from the kitchen with very red cheeks, and look at the merchant and
Sabine with an expression which plainly said, "I have found you out,"
and was met with a severe glance from the master of the house.

And yet he was no longer severe now. Sabine and Anton grew daily more
silent and reserved; he became more cheerful, far less silent than of
yore, was never weary of drawing Anton into conversation, and listened
with intense attention to each word he spoke. There was still a great
flatness in trade, but he did not appear to heed it. When Mr. Braun, the
agent, poured out his oppressed heart, he only laughed and returned a
dry jest.

Anton, however, did not observe the change. When in the office, he sat
silently opposite Mr. Baumann, and seemed to think of nothing but his
correspondence. The evenings he generally spent alone in his room,
burying himself in the books Fink had left, and trying to escape from
his own dark thoughts. He did not find the firm as he had left it:
several of its old mercantile connections were dissolved, several new
ones entered into. He found new agents, new descriptions of goods, and
new servants.

The clerks' apartments, too, had grown silent. With the exception of Mr.
Liebold and Mr. Purzel, who had never been exciting social elements, he