ould they meet
henceforth? Her pride rebelled against one whose influence she so
sensibly felt. She determined to treat him coldly; she made castles in
the air as to how he would speak, and how she would reply, and her fancy
kept flying round the image of the stranger as the scared mother-bird
does around the enemy of her nest.

"And what will you do, Oscar?" inquired the baroness.

"My father can not accept," cried Lenore, energetically.

"What is your opinion?" said the baron, turning to his wife.

"Choose what will soonest set you free from this estate--from the care,
the gloom, the insecurity which are secretly preying on you. Let us go
to some distant land, where men's passions are less hideously developed.
Let us go far away; we shall be more peaceful in the narrowest
circumstances than we are here."

"Thus, then, you advise the acceptance of his offer," said the baron.
"He who rents a part will soon undertake the whole."

"And pay us a pension!" cried Lenore.

"You are a foolish girl," said her father. "You both excite yourselves,
which is unnecessary. The offer is too important to be refused or
accepted offhand. I will weigh the matter more narrowly. Your Wohlfart
will have plenty of time to examine the conditions," added he, more
good-humoredly.

"Listen, dear father, to what Wohlfart has already spoken, and respect
what he keeps back."

"Yes, yes, he shall be listened to," said the baron. "And now
good-night, both of you. I will reconsider the matter."

"He will accept," said Lenore to her mother; "he will accept, because
Wohlfart has dissuaded him, and because the other offers him ready
money. Mother, why did you not say that we could never look the stranger
in the face if he gave us alms in our very house?"

"I have no longer any pride or any hope," replied her mother, in a low
voice.

As Anton slowly re-entered his room, Fink called out cheerfully, "How
goes it, man of business? Am I to be tenant, or will the baron himself
undertake the matter? He would like it dearly. In that case, I lay claim
to compensation--free room for myself and my horse as long as they play
at war hereabouts."

"He will accept your offer," replied Anton, "though I advised him not."

"You did!" cried Fink. "Yes, indeed, it's just like you. When a drowning
mouse clings to a raft, you make it a long speech on the imperative
nature of moral obligations, and hurl it back into the water."

"You are not so innocent as a