the hand which her brother kissed again and again. Gabriele was
quite bashful before the tall student.

Henrik had a little _tete-a-tete_ with every sister, but it was somewhat
short and cold with Sara; after which he seated himself by his mother,
took her hand in his, and a lively and general conversation began,
whilst Eva handed about the confectionery.

"But what is amiss now?" asked Henrik, suddenly. "Why have the sisters
all left us to take council together there, with such important
judge-like faces? Is the nation in danger? May not I go, in order to
save the native land?--If one could only first of all have eaten one's
supper in peace," added he, speaking aside, after the manner of the
stage.

But it was precisely about the supper that they were talking. There was
a great danger that the pancakes would not succeed; and Louise could not
prevent Henrik and Jacobi running down into the kitchen, where, to the
greatest amusement of the young ladies, and to the tragi-comic despair
of the cook, they acted their parts as cooks so ridiculously that Louise
was obliged at length, with an imposing air, to put an end to the
laughter, to the joking, and to the burnt pancakes, in order that she
herself might put her hand to the work. Under her eye all went well; the
pancakes turned out excellently. Jacobi besought one from her own hand,
as wages for his work; graciously obtained it, and then swallowed the
hot gift with such rapture that it certainly must have burnt him
inwardly, had it not been for another species of warmth (which we
consider very probable)--a certain well-known spiritual fire, which
counteracted the material burning, and made it harmless. Have we not
here, in all simplicity, suggested something of a homoeopathic nature?

But we will leave the kitchen, that we may seat ourselves with the
family at the supper-table, where the mother's savoury, white pancakes,
and the thick ones for Henrik, were found to be most excellent, and
where the "angels' food" was devoured with the greatest earthly
enjoyment.

After this, they drank the health of the travellers, and sang a merry
little song, made by Petrea. The father was quite pleased with his
Petrea, who, quite electrified, sang too with all her might, although
not with a most harmonious voice, which, however, did not annoy her
father's somewhat unmusical ear.

"She sings louder than they all," said he to his wife, who was
considerably less charmed than he with P