its are made;
and it is also true, that many poppy-goodies might be bought, a few at a
time, for a dollar; likewise I cannot deny that so much money had never
been in my hand, as my very own, to spend as I liked. I would not have
exchanged it for two other dollars, if it had not been given me before
Melanie. I felt that it degraded me in her eyes. I could not discover
what to do with that dollar. I scarce dared to look at Melanie when he
departed; still I remarked that she did not look at me either when I
left.

At the door Lorand seized my hand.

"Desi," said he severely, "that thing that the P. C. thrust into your
hand you must give to the butler, when he opens the carriage door."

I liked the idea. By that they would know who I was; and my eyes would
no longer be downcast before cousin Melanie.

But, when I thrust the dollar into the butler's hand, I was so
embarrassed by his matter-of-fact grandeur that any one who had seen us
might have thought the butler had presented me with something. I hoped
uncle would not exclude me from his house for that.

Long did that quadrille sound in my ears; long did that
phenomenon-pianist haunt me; how long I cannot tell!

She was the standard of my ambition, the prize of a long race, which
must be won. In my imagination the whole world thronged before her. I
saw the roads by which one might reach her.

I too wished to be a man like them. I would learn diligently; I would be
the first "eminence" in the school, my teacher would take pride in me,
and would say at the public examination: "This will be a great man some
day." I would pass my barrister's exams, with distinction; would serve
my time under a sheriff; would court the acquaintance of great men of
distinction; would win their favor by my gentle, humble conduct; I would
be ready to serve; any work intrusted to me I would punctually perform;
would not mix in evil company; would make my talent shine; would write
odes of encomium, panegyrics, on occasions of note; till finally, I
should myself, like my uncle, become "secretarius," "assessor,"
"septemvir," and "consiliarius."

Ha, ha, ha!

When we returned to Master Fromm's, the delicate attention of little
Miss Pugnose was indeed burdensome. She would prattle all kinds of
nonsense. She asked of what the fine dinner consisted; whether it was
true that the daughter of the "consiliarius" had a doll that danced,
played the guitar, and nodded its head. Ridiculous! As if peop