he deepest snow to the land of sunshine?"

"You make me laugh, dear baron, although I am truly in no mood for
laughter. I repeat, only have patience for a little while. I can't tell
you about it to-day. I hope to be able to put your mind at rest about
your daughter before I start. You will receive a few lines from me
tomorrow, and at the same time a letter to Irene's _fiance_, whose
address I don't know--for, the truth is, he has gone away because of an
affair in which his honor is at stake. Promise me, as a reward for what
I am going to do as your mediator with Herr Schoepf, to see that this
letter reaches Baron Felix's hands safely, at all costs. They must know
something about his whereabouts on his estates, and, if the worst comes
to the worst, we shall have to seek for him through the newspapers."

"Now I have it!" cried the baron, eagerly; "an affair of honor--a
_rencontre_--and that is why the girl was so beside herself that she
could not bear even my vicinity. Well, if that's the case, I don't feel
troubled. The boy has a sure hand, and won't be such a fool as to let
himself be shot dead now that he is engaged to be married. But only
tell me--_centre qui?_--overnight in this way--and all the while with
good comrades of his, and peaceable disciples of art to boot!"

Julie considered it her wisest course to make no other reply than a nod
of the head to this conjecture, which evidently completely allayed the
old gentleman's fears. He grew very jolly again, kissed her hand
repeatedly, and only begged her at parting to do her best to help him
fulfill his paternal duties.

"Tell the defiant little red-head," he cried after her, as she was
going down-stairs, "that I haven't the slightest desire to force my
tenderness upon her in person. We can get accustomed to one another by
letter, and familiarize ourselves with the thought that we have found
one another again. Life in Germany is too full of adventures for me. I
am going back to my quiet desert; and to you, my beautiful friend, I
will send the skin of the first lion I kill, as a reward for your
endeavors to help a father to a daughter who doesn't want to have
anything to do with him!"

CHAPTER XVII.

Jansen had gone home as if in a dream; and even the wild demonstrations
of joy with which he was received by his child did not succeed in
driving away the stupor that hung over him. He did not ask either
Frances or her foster-mot