et things; he never
gazed up into her eyes and sighed, although once or twice, perhaps by
accident, he did squeeze her hand. His demeanour towards her was that of
a friend and relative, and the subject of their talk for the most part
was the possibility of her father's deliverance from the dangers which
surrounded him, and other matters of the sort.

The time came at last when Adrian was allowed to leave his room, and
as it chanced it fell to Elsa's lot to attend him on this first journey
downstairs. In a Dutch home of the period and of the class of the Van
Goorl's, all the women-folk of whatever degree were expected to take
a share in the household work. At present Elsa's share was to nurse to
Adrian, who showed so much temper at every attempt which was made
to replace her by any other woman, that, in face of the doctor's
instructions, Lysbeth did not dare to cross his whim.

It was with no small delight, therefore, that Elsa hailed the prospect
of release, for the young man with his grandiose bearing and amorous
sighs wearied her almost beyond endurance. Adrian was not equally
pleased; indeed he had feigned symptoms which caused him to remain in
bed an extra week, merely in order that he might keep her near him. But
now the inevitable hour had come, and Adrian felt that it was incumbent
upon him to lift the veil and let Elsa see some of the secret of
his soul. He had prepared for the event; indeed the tedium of his
confinement had been much relieved by the composition of lofty and
heart-stirring addresses, in which he, the noble cavalier, laid his
precious self and fortune at the feet of this undistinguished, but rich
and attractive maid.

Yet now when the moment was with him, and when Elsa gave him her hand
to lead him from the room, behold! all these beautiful imaginings had
vanished, and his knees shook with no fancied weakness. Somehow Elsa did
not look as a girl ought to look who was about to be proposed to; she
was too cold and dignified, too utterly unconscious of anything unusual.
It was disconcerting--but--it must be done.

By a superb effort Adrian recovered himself and opened with one of the
fine speeches, not the best by any means, but the only specimen which he
could remember.

"Without," he began, "the free air waits to be pressed by my cramped
wings, but although my heart bounds wild as that of any haggard hawk, I
tell you, fairest Elsa, that in yonder gilded cage," and he pointed to
the bed, "I--