ited by the
recital of his sorrows, he paced the room in a transport of anger;
"fellows that never rested till they got me in their books, and now gave
me no peace for payment. Out of three kreutzers a day, Kate,--a penny
English,--I was to discharge all the debts of my extravagance, and live
in style! A Dalton, well born and nurtured, in a position of ignominious
poverty!"

"Not one to aid you?"

"Walstein was away in Bohemia with his regiment; and, perhaps, it
were better so, for I had told him such narratives of our family, such
high-flown stories of our princely possessions, that I could not have
had the courage to face him with an avowal of the opposite. At last I
did make a friend, Kate; at least one poor fellow took an interest in
me, talked to me of home, of you and Nelly; mostly of her, and of her
curious carvings, which he prized almost as much as little Hans used. He
sat with me many an hour under the trees of the Prater, or we strolled
along in the shady alleys of the 'Augarten;' and his companionship
somehow always soothed and comforted me, for he was so stored with book
learning that he could ever bring out something from Uhland or Richter
or Wieland that suited the moment, just as if the poet had one in his
mind when he wrote it. How often have I wished that I was like him,
Kate, and had a mind like his, teeming with its own resources against
sorrow."

"Tell me more of him, Frank dearest; I feel an interest in him already."

"And yet you would scarcely have liked him, if you saw him," said the
boy, with a bashful and hesitating manner.

"Why not, Frank? His appearance might have been little promising, his
face and figure commonplace--"

"No, no; not that,--not that Adolf was good-looking, with a fine, clear
brow, and a manly, honest face; nor was his manner vulgar,--at least,
for his station. He was a pedler."

"A pedler, Frank," cried Kate, growing scarlet as she spoke.

"Ay, I knew well how you would hear the word," said the boy; "I often
used to fancy my high-bred sister's scorn if she could but have seen the
companion whose arm lay around my neck, and who spoke to me as 'thou.'"

Kate made no answer, but her cheek was crimson, and her lip trembled.

"You and Walstein were never out of my thoughts," continued Frank; "for
I could fancy how each of you would look down upon him."

"Not that, Frank," said she, in confusion; "if he were indeed kind to
you,--if he were a true friend in that time