ylight, behind those curtains--Oh! Good gracious!--is this a
way for an engaged young lady to go on?"
"Who's an engaged young lady?" Albertine cried out, in immense
indignation. "Whom are you talking about, Mr. Tussmann? Tell me, if you
will be so kind."
"Oh, thou, my Creator," cried Tussmann, in the fulness of his heart.
"You ask, dearest Miss Albertine, who is an engaged young lady, and of
whom I am talking? To whom else can I be alluding but to yourself? Are
you not my future bride, whom I have so long adored in secret? Did not
your dear papa ever so long ago promise me your beautiful, white, _so_
kissable little hand?"
"Mr. Tussmann," said Albertine; "either you have been to a wineshop,
early as it is in the day--(my father says you go to them a great deal
more than you ought),--or you've gone out of your mind in some
extraordinary way. My father can never have had the slightest idea of
_your_ marrying _me_."
"Dearest Miss Albertine," cried Tussmann; "consider for a moment. You
have known me for many long years. Have I not always been a man of the
strictest moderation and temperance? Have I ever been given to
dissipation? Can you suppose that I have taken to drinking and improper
conduct all at once? Dearest Miss Albertine, I shall be only too happy
to close my eyes to what I have seen going on here; not a syllable
concerning it shall ever pass my lips--we'll forget and forgive. But
remember, adored one, that you promised to marry me out of the tower
window of the Town-hall at twelve o'clock at night; and, although you
were waltzing in such a style with this young gentleman (whose
acquaintance, as I said, I have not the honour of), still I----"
"Don't you see?" interrupted Albertine; "don't you know, that you're
talking all sorts of incoherent nonsense, like some lunatic out of the
asylum? Please go away. I feel quite unwell; do go away, for goodness'
sake."
Tears started in Tussmann's eyes.
"Oh, heavens!" he cried. "Treatment like this from the beloved Miss
Albertine! No; I shall not go. I shall remain here till you have
arrived at a truer opinion concerning my unworthy person, dearest Miss
Albertine."
"Go; go!" reiterated Albertine, running into a corner of the room, and
covering her face with her handkerchief.
"No, dearest Miss Albertine," answered Tussmann; "I shall not go
until, in compliance with the sapient advice of Thomasius, I endeavour
to----" and he made as if he would follow her int
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