ugh
to see what the consequence will be if he should suspect that Brother
Loretz is like 'a wave of the sea, driven with the wind and tossed.'"

Yet as the minister said this his head drooped, his voice softened, and
he laid his hand on the shoulder of Mr. Loretz, as if he would fain
speak on and in a different strain. It was evident that the distressed
man did not understand him, and reproof or counsel was more than he
could now bear. He walked on a little faster, and as he approached his
gate voices from within were heard. They were singing a duet from _The
Messiah_.

"Come in," said Loretz, his face suddenly lighting up with almost hope.

Mr. Wenck seemed disposed to accept the invitation: then, as he was
about to pass through the gate, he was stayed by a recollection
apparently, for he turned back, saying, "Not to-night, Brother Loretz.
They will need all the time for practice. Let me tell you, I admire your
daughter Elise beyond expression. I wish that Mr. Spener could hear that
voice now: it is perfectly triumphant. You are happy, sir, in having
such a daughter."

As Mr. Wenck turned from the gate, Leonhard--our Leonhard
Marten--approached swiftly from the opposite side of the street. He had
been sitting under the trees half an hour listening to the singing, and,
full of enthusiasm, now presented himself before Mr. Loretz,
exclaiming, "Do tell me, sir, what singers are these?"

Mr. Loretz knew every man in Spenersberg. He looked at the stranger, and
answered dryly, "Very tolerable singers."

"I should think so! I never heard anything so glorious. I am a stranger
here, sir. Can you direct me to a public-house?"

To answer was easy. There was but the one inn, called the Brethren's
House, the sixth below the one before which they were standing. It was a
long house, painted white, with a deep wide porch, where half a dozen
young men probably sat smoking at this moment. Instead of giving this
direction, however, Loretz said, after a brief consultation with
himself, "I don't know as there's another house in Spenersberg that
ought to be as open as mine. I live here, sir. How long have you been
listening?"

"Not long enough," said Leonhard; and he passed through the gate, which
had been opened for the minister, and now was opened as widely for him.

* * * * *

CHAPTER III.

HIGH ART.

The room into which Mr. Loretz conducted Leonhard seemed to our young
friend, as he gl