ll, in spite of all their old nurse used to say about
the Burgher, and how she pretended to detest him, as they must remember
well, Lorischen had finally agreed to an engagement with him, promising
to unite her fate with his when Herr Fritz and Master Eric came home.
"So now, dear boys both, you know how much depends on your return,"
concluded their mother in her quaint way, for she had a keen
appreciation of humour. "If only to hasten the happiness of old
Lorischen and her well-beloved little fat man, pray do not delay your
coming back as soon as ever you can conveniently manage it. I say
nothing about myself or of Madaleine, my new daughter; for, you must be
able to imagine without the aid of any words of mine, how we are both
longing and praying to see you again!"

"And now for sister Madaleine's letter," cried Eric, when he had kissed
the signature to that of his mother's which Fritz handed over to him as
soon as he had done reading it aloud. "It seems almost as big a one as
mutterchen's and I dare say there'll be lots more news in it!"

"Ah, I think I'll read this first to myself," said Fritz dryly; adding a
moment after when he noticed Eric's look of intense disgust: "you see,
she only writes to me, you know."

"Oh yes, that's very fine!" exclaimed the other, in a highly aggrieved
tone. "Never mind, though, I can pay you out sooner than you think,
Master Fritz! See this little note here!"

"No--yes--what is it?" said Fritz, looking up in an absent way from the
second of the home letters, which now lay open on his knee.

"Ah, wouldn't you like to know, Mr Selfish-keep-his-letters-to-himself
sort of a brother, eh? Well, then, this note here contains some of the
dearest words you ever saw penned! It was enclosed by Miss Celia Brown
in a letter of her father's to you--which you've taken such little
account of that you chucked it down on the floor in your ridiculous
hurry to read that letter which you won't tell me about. Now, I did
intend, Master Fritz, to give you this delightful little note, which I
would not part with for the world, for you to read it your own self;
but, now, I shan't let you once cast your eyes over it, there! It is
only a little tiny note; still, I think much more of it than all your
big letters from that Madaleine Vogelstein, who I don't believe is half
as handsome as Celia!"

"All right then, we're both satisfied if such is the case," rejoined
Fritz, in no way put out by this out