'Caroline sprang to my side as I uttered these words, and as she wiped
the tears from her eyes she sobbed forth--

'"Let me but hear it! let me but hear it!"

'"Sit down," said I, taking her hand and pressing it to my lips--"sit
down, and you shall." With that I began my tale. I suppose,' continued
the Hofrath, 'you don't wish to have the story?'

'Gott bewahre (Heaven forbid)!' broke in the whole company in a breath.
'Leave the Mug and the Meerschaum, and go on with Caroline!'

'Well, from that hour her heart was mine. Ludwig might call all the
reptiles that ever crawled, every vegetable that ever grew, to his
aid--the victory was with me. He saw it, and, irritated by defeat,
returned to Berlin without bidding us even farewell; and we never heard
of him till we saw his new novel of _Fortunio_. But to go on. The day
after Tieck left us was my birthday, and they all arranged to give me a
little fete; and truly nothing could be prettier. The garden of the
inn was a sweet spot, and there was a large linden like this, where the
table was spread; and there was a chair all decked with roses and myrtle
for me--Caroline herself had done it; and they had composed a little
hymn in honour of me, wherein were sundry compliments to my distinction
in science and poesy, the gifts of my mind and the graces of my person.
Ach, ja! I was handsome then.

[Illustration: 272-392]

'Well, well, I must close my tale--I cannot bear to think of it even
now. Caroline came forward, dressed in white, with a crown of roses
and laurel leaves intertwined, and approached me gracefully, as I sat
waiting to receive her--all the rest ranged on either side of me.

'Auf seine Stirne, wo das Licht-----'

(Upon that brow where shines the light)

said Caroline, raising the chaplet.

'"Ach, Du Heiliger!" screamed Martha, who only that instant saw I was
bareheaded, "the dear man will catch his death of cold!" and with that
she snatched this confounded nightcap from her pocket, and rushing
forward clapped it on my head before I could know it was done. I
struggled and kicked like one possessed, but it was of no use; she had
tied the strings in a black knot, and they could neither be loosened nor
broken. "Be still there!" said she; "thou knowest well that at
fifty-three----" You can conceive,' said the Hofrath in a parenthesis,
'that her passion obliterated her memory. At fifty-three one can't play
the fool like at twenty.'

'Ach, ja! it