d jumping frantically to
reach it. The likenesses were unmistakable and the situation
sufficiently pointed to need no commentary. The Frau Professorin was
much impressed by it, and her interest, it is needless to say, was
enlisted in behalf of the goddesses. She resented the reserved
attitude of the shepherd, and was yet anxious to assist him in
arriving at a decision. Minchen, now, with her charming talent for
making counterfeit cucumbers in wax and sections of hard-boiled eggs,
would be just the wife for a practical man like him. She would invest
his home with an artistic flavor which he himself would be capable of
appreciating, though powerless to supply. And yet Roeschen, with her
beautiful verses, her nonchalant toilets and her poetic sympathy for
improprieties which, in practice, she was careful to shun, might be
even more fitted than her sister to lift and ennoble a sordid American
soul. It only remained to be considered whether Gretchen, who could
grow enthusiastic over the decline of one cent in the price of butter,
might not, after all, be a more kindred nature, and therefore suit him
best of all.

The Frau Professorin was deeply engaged in these meditations when the
maid handed her a small card, upon which was engraved the name,
Leonard Grover. To conceal her agitation she threw a glance into the
mirror and gave a few decorative touches to her person, before
admitting the visitor. Then she put on her company smile and seated
herself in a defensive attitude in the large, leather-covered
easy-chair. She gave her hand graciously, without rising, to Grover as
he entered.

"I hope your buffalo herds are prospering," she said, after the
exchange of a few preliminary civilities.

"My buffalo herds!" exclaimed the young man, laughing. Then, as it
suddenly struck him that it might be a joke, he continued with zest:
"Oh, yes, indeed, thank you; they are doing famously. They made quite
a sensation as they were driven through the streets of New York, the
other day, on their way from Chicago to the Kansas plains."

"Indeed," replied Mrs. Bornholm effusively; "allow me to congratulate
you."

"Thank you," he stammered helplessly.

She had been serious after all.

A minute or two elapsed, during which he did not muster courage to
make any further remarks.

"Are the young ladies at home?" he finally essayed, just as the pause
was threatening to become awkward.

"The young ladies," repeated the Frau Professorin, b