would always be welcome."

Again he had to make a determined stand against having their
hospitality forced upon him, and kind, persistent Malvine would not
give up the struggle as easily as Paul. As Wilhelm, however, was
equally persistent in his refusal, and would not even divulge the name
of his hotel till they had sworn to leave him his independence, they
finally gave up the fight.

"And now tell us all that has happened to you," said Paul, patting him
on the shoulder. "You must have had a very good time, for you either
did not write at all or only in a flash--like this: 'Dear friend, am
quite well--how are you all? Best love--always yours.' Well, I don't
think any the worse of you. In gay Paris one has something better to do
than to think of dull old fogies on the Uhlenhorst."

"You don't think that seriously," answered Wilhelm, pressing his hand.

"I should rather be inclined to think that the doctor had been ill,"
said Malvine, whose woman's eye had instantly remarked the pallor and
weariness of Wilhelm's thin face.

"Really--have you been ill?" cried Paul, concerned.

"No, no, there is nothing the matter with me," Wilhelm hastened to
answer, with a forced smile.

The awakened anxiety of his friends would not be dispelled, however,
till he had repeated his assurance many times, and reinforced it by
additions and enlargements.

Paul then returned to his question as to Wilhelm's adventures, the
latter doing his best to get out of it by a few vague remarks on the
uneventful character of his life during the last few months, and then
hurried to descant on Paris, describing the town to them with the
volubility of a guide-book. On his inquiring in return about their
affairs, Paul and Malvine vied with one another in the redundancy of
their account. All was well, so far. At the last distribution of Orders
Paul had received the Order of the Red Eagle, and beside that, during
the course of the winter, two new foreign decorations. There were all
sorts of innovations on the estate, which he described in detail. At
present he was hard at work on an entirely new scheme: the founding of
a colony on the moor, composed of discharged prisoners, tramps, and
such like ne'er-do-wells; where, by supplying them with agricultural
labor, they might be brought back to a decent and remunerative way of
life.

Malvine had much to tell of the autumn and winter festivities, both at
her own and other houses, and also, that of the thre