sible
subject, or makes a greater fool of himself when it comes to practice.
And, besides, a son of the worthy Ehrenthal! Don't be angry if I soon
run away."

On the evening appointed, Bernhard sat on Anton's sofa in anxious
expectation of the arrival of this well-known character, many wild
anecdotes of whom had found their way even into his study.

At first Anton feared that the two would never suit. Two greater
contrasts could hardly be imagined; the thin, transparent hand of
Bernhard, and the healthy, muscular development of Fink; the bent form
of the one, the elastic strength of the other; here, a deeply-lined
face, with dreamy eyes; there, a proud set of features, lighted up by a
glance like an eagle's--how could these possibly harmonize? But all
turned out better than he had expected. Bernhard listened with much
interest to what Fink had to say of foreign countries, and Anton did all
he could to turn the conversation to subjects likely to bring out
Bernhard.

The result was, that a few days later Bernhard found himself sitting in
one of Fink's easy-chairs, and even ventured to invite him, with Anton,
to spend an evening with him. Fink consented.

And now arose great excitement in the Ehrenthal circle.

Bernhard dusted his books and set them in order, and for the first time
in his life troubled himself about household matters. "We must have tea,
supper, wine, and cigars," said he.

"You need not be uneasy," replied his mother; "Herr von Fink shall find
every thing well arranged."

"I will buy you some of the very finest cigars, and see to the wine,"
added his father.

As the hour drew near, Bernhard grew increasingly anxious, nay,
irritable. "Where is the tea-kettle? The tea-kettle is not yet in my
room! Nothing is ready!" cried he to his mother.

"I will make the tea and send it in--that is the fashionable way,"
replied his mother, rustling up and down in a new silk.

"No," said Bernhard, decidedly, "I will make the tea myself. Anton makes
it, and so does Von Fink."

"Bernhard will make the tea himself!" cried the astonished mother to
Rosalie. "Wonderful! he will make his own tea!" exclaimed Ehrenthal, who
was in his room drawing on his boots. "He is going to make the tea!"
cried the cook in the kitchen, clapping her hands in amazement.

On their way, Anton said to Fink, "It is very kind of you, Fritz, to
come; Bernhard will be delighted."

"One must make sacrifices," replied Fink. "I have taken t