ound of itself. Take the air; walks; amusements; theatre; playing
_Sonntagskind, Schwestern von Prag_. Come round of itself."

"So eloquent I have seldom seen the Doctor," thought Conrector
Paulmann; "really talkative, I declare!"

Several days and weeks and months were gone; Anselmus had vanished;
but Registrator Heerbrand also did not make his appearance--not till
the fourth of February, when the Registrator, in a new fashionable
coat of the finest cloth, in shoes and silk stockings, notwithstanding
the keen frost, and with a large nosegay of fresh flowers in his hand,
did enter precisely at noon into the parlor of Conrector Paulmann, who
wondered not a little to see his friend so dizened. With a solemn air,
Registrator Heerbrand stepped forward to Conrector Paulmann; embraced
him with the finest elegance, and then said: "Now at last, on the
Saint's-day of your beloved and most honored Mam'sell Veronica, I will
tell you out, straightforward, what I have long had lying at my heart.
That evening, that unfortunate evening, when I put the ingredients of
that cursed punch in my pocket, I purposed imparting to you a piece of
good news, and celebrating the happy day in convivial joys. Already I
had learned that I was to be made Hofrat, for which promotion I have
now the patent, _cum nomine et sigillo Principis_, in my pocket."

"Ah! Herr Registr--Herr Hofrat Heerbrand, I meant to say," stammered
the Conrector.

"But it is you, most honored Conrector," continued the new Hofrat; "it
is you alone that can complete my happiness. For a long time I have in
secret loved your daughter, Mam'sell Veronica; and I can boast of many
a kind look which she has given me, evidently showing that she would
not cast me away. In one word, honored Conrector! I, Hofrat Heerbrand,
do now entreat of you the hand of your most amiable Mam'sell Veronica,
whom I, if you have nothing against it, purpose shortly to take home
as my wife."

Conrector Paulmann, full of astonishment, clapped his hands
repeatedly, crying: "Ey, Ey, Ey! Herr Registr--Herr Hofrat, I meant
to say--who would have thought it? Well, if Veronica does really
love you, I for my share cannot object; nay, perhaps, her present
melancholy is nothing but concealed love for you, most honored Hofrat!
You know what freaks they have!"

At this moment Veronica entered, pale and agitated as she now commonly
was. Then Hofrat Heerbrand stepped toward her; mentioned in a neat
speech her Saint'