to a person when one is
absolutely certain that one can never fall in love with him. I ought to
have been warned by this, and have taken better care of my heart. But,
just because such a relation was quite new to me, I fell into it
blindfold, and now I am plunged up to my ears in the most hopeless,
most undying, and most imprudent passion. There you have my confession.
I think you will dispense with my mentioning to you the name of the
person in question. But I won't detain you longer. I see you have your
palette ready to go to work. _Adieu!_"

He turned toward the door. But he had not crossed the threshold when
his name reached his ear--and his heart, too, because of the unusually
tender tone in which it was pronounced. He stood as if rooted to the
spot, and waited to hear what more the voice would say. But he had to
wait a good while, so he spent the intervening time in observing the
wall, which separated this room from his own, and which was large
enough to easily admit of a door being cut through.

"Dear Rosenbusch," the voice began again, at last, eyen a little more
tenderly than before. "What you have said is so new, so entirely
unexpected to me--and then, again, so confusing--come, let us talk
about it like a couple of sensible people and good comrades--"

He again made a movement as though he were going. The beginning did not
strike him as being particularly consoling. "Sensible discussion and
good-fellowship!"--if she had nothing better than that to offer him--

"No," she continued; "hear me out, first. You are always so hasty,
Rosenbusch! If you will only promise me not to be offended at anything
I say--for I would like to be perfectly frank. Will you promise me?"

He nodded rapidly three times in succession, and gave her an almost
timid look; and then hastily looked down again. In the midst of her own
confusion and embarrassment she could not help smiling at the shy,
penitent air of one who was usually such a self-confident lady-killer.

"I can't deny," she said, "that in the first part of our acquaintance
I really did not think much of you; you were--pardon me for saying
it--rather disagreeable than dangerous to me. The very name of
Rosenbusch sounds so perfumed and sentimental--"

"Well!" he ventured to interpose, "Minna Engelken is also a devilish
sweet name!"

"But, still, it doesn't sound so Jewish. I took you for a Jew in
disguise."

"We have been baptized these hundred years, and my grandmoth