r Jan, that were I in your place I should not long
play St. Anthony's part. I would do everything on earth to deliver that
poor child from her purgatory--'

"'And to lead her into a Paradise where such an Adam--get off with
you,' said he, with a very unpolite gesture.

"But I knew how to take him; I drew nearer and placed my hand on his
shoulder.

"'If it is disagreeable to you, I will not say another word, but can
you suppose that a certain Hans Lutz--'

"He sprang from his low seat and ran distractedly up and down the
studio.

"'Don't make me mad,' he cried. 'If you have noticed that I am over
head and ears in love with the girl--as far as _that_ goes there is no
disgrace in it; but I am not such an insane idiotic ape as to imagine
for a moment that my respectable visage will drive the sweet child's
first love out of her heart, and that a mere settlement in life will
not decoy her you have yourself heard. Why then come and blow upon the
coals with the bellows of your common-place philosophy? Am I not
already wretched enough, in that I plainly see how hopeless the whole
matter is, and yet cannot leave off gazing at her by the hour, just to
burn in that cruel face of hers upon my memory? And now, forsooth,
you must come and prate of solid possibilities, and congratulate me,
and--the devil take it! It is just as if you were to hold the pin on
which a living cockchafer is impaled in a candle, and make it red-hot.'

"He threw himself down on a low ottoman in the corner with such
vehemence, that he broke off the neck of a costly Florentine lute lying
there, without even noticing it.

"I would now gladly have recalled my thoughtless words.

"'If the case is really so, Mynheer,' said I, 'I own there is nothing
to congratulate you upon. But I do not understand why a man like you
should so utterly despair. You have no tannery, but you are a famous
artist; you do not smell of scents, but as a man should, of strong
Porto Rico; and all the rest is mere matter of taste. Women are women,
and it is impossible to reckon upon their fancies. That she is not
exactly set upon an Adonis is evident--'

"I might have gone on for some time putting forth these platitudes,
with the best intentions, if he had not suddenly turned upon me with
a quite phlegmatic air, and asked me--not without a quiver in his
voice--what o'clock it was, and whether the 'Muette de Portici' was not
going to be performed that night. I then saw plainly how t