f nature, and could live between the
heavens and the sea! How soon then could he inspire her thoughts and
bring her to his own standpoint. Then the fear would take hold of him
that she could not do without theaters, frocks, soirees, and balls, and
under the recent impression of the New-Year's party he became
despondent, and said to himself, "No. The life of show and appearance
has too great a hold on her, and I shall never be able to give her what
she wants, and what seems necessary to her happiness." Paul's opinion,
which he gave on the way home, struck him sorrowfully. One of the
richest "parties" in Berlin! Would not people say he was marrying her
for her money? What people said was really nothing to him, and he
considered himself free to act as his innermost judgment counseled. But
might not Loulou herself believe that her father's money added
something to her attractions? He recognized that this feeling indicated
a weakness, a want of self-reliance, but the idea that she might be
capable of such a thought made him angry. Her money did not attract
him! On the contrary, it was an obstacle between them. Why was she not
a Moscow gypsy girl? Just as young, and pretty, and charming, but
uncultivated, and therefore ready for cultivation and capable of it;
poor as a beggar, and therefore free from pretensions, but without
knowledge of the world, and therefore without desire for it. How happy
they might both be then! Such thoughts ran riot in his brain, and he
fell asleep only when the late winter sun shone through the curtains on
his tired white face.

The winter went quickly by under amusements of all kinds. Loulou had
never known it so pleasant. The theater season was brilliant, the
weather for skating lasted longer than usual, and balls succeeded each
other in her father's and friends' houses in rapid succession. Wilhelm
only went once or twice, and then he firmly declined any more, to the
great astonishment of Frau Ellrich, and the vexation of Loulou, whose
pretty face always lit up with pleasure when she saw his dark eyes
watching her from the doorways or window recesses while she danced. He
said that the sight of social frivolity bored him, and she thought in
her naive way, "It is always like that. Men must have some fad." Paul
was just the other way. He accepted every invitation, and he had a
great many. He had always some new acquaintances to tell Wilhelm of,
and often spoke of Fraulein Malvine Marker, who appeared