d not have been otherwise
arranged."

Meanwhile the traveler felt like a son returning to his home after a
long absence. At the nearest station to the capital his heart began to
beat with delight; the old house, his colleagues, the business, his
desk, his principal, and Sabine, all floated pleasantly before his
mind's eye. At last the drosky stopped before the open door, and Father
Sturm, calling out his name with a voice that sounded all over the
street, ran and lifted him out of the carriage like a child. Then up
came Mr. Pix, and shook his hand long, not remarking that his black
brush, during the up-and-down movement, was making all sorts of
hieroglyphics on his young friend's coat. Next Anton went into the
counting-house, where the lights were already burning, and heartily
cried out "Good-evening." His colleagues rose like one man, and with
loud expressions of pleasure crowded about him. Mr. Schroeter hurried out
of his own room, and his grave face beamed with satisfaction. These were
happy moments, indeed, and Anton was more moved than became such a
traveled man. And on his way from the counting-house to his room, old
Pluto sprang out impetuously, immoderately wagging his matted tail, so
that Anton could hardly escape from his caresses. Arrived at his own
door, a servant met him with a smile, and respectfully opened it. Anton
gazed in wonder at the way in which it was decorated.

"Our young lady herself arranged it as you see," imparted the servant.
Anton bent over the alabaster vase, and closely examined every flower as
though he had never seen such before. Then he took up the cushion, felt
it, stroked it, and, full of admiration, put it back in its place. He
now returned to the office, to give Mr. Schroeter the latest intelligence
as to his proceedings. The merchant took him into his own little room,
and they talked long and confidentially.

It was a serious conversation. Much was lost, much still endangered, and
it would require years of industry to make good what was forfeited, and
replace old connections by new. "To your judgment and energy," said Mr.
Schroeter, "I already owe much. I hope you will continue to assist me in
regaining lost ground. And now there is still some one else who wants to
thank you. I hope you will be my guest this evening."

Anton next went to his long-closed desk, and took out pens and paper.
But much could not be made of writing to-day. One of his colleagues
after the other left h