Mrs. Gunilla's voice, manners, and bearing, a something
very imposing; her curtsey was usually very stately and low, and this
brings us again to her entrance into Elise's room. Elise, the moment she
entered, quickly rose and welcomed her, introducing Jacobi at the same
time.

At the first glance Jacobi uttered an exclamation of joyful surprise,
approached her with an appearance of the greatest cordiality, seized her
hand, which he kissed reverentially, and felicitated himself on the
happiness of seeing her again.

The little eyes of the Chamberlain's lady twinkled, and she exclaimed,
"Oh, heavens! my heart's dearest! Nay, that is very pleasant! He, he,
he, he!"

"How!" exclaimed Elise, in astonishment, "Mr. Jacobi, do you
know----Aunt W., do you know Mr. Jacobi?"

The Candidate appeared about to give an explanation of the acquaintance,
but this Mrs. Gunilla, with a faint crimson overspreading the pale
yellow cheek, and a twitch of the eyebrow, prevented, and with a quick
voice she said, "We once lived in the same house."

She then desired that the conversation which her entrance had
interrupted, and which appeared to have been very important, might
proceed. "At least," added she, with a penetrating glance on Elise and
the Candidate, "if I should not disturb you."

"Certainly not!"

The Candidate needed only the sixteenth of a hint to rush armed with
full fervour into the mysteries of his system. Mrs. Gunilla took up a
packet of old gold thread, which she set herself to unravel, whilst the
Candidate coughed and prepared himself.

CHAPTER IV.

MONADS AND NOMADS.

"All beings," commenced the Candidate, "have, as their most intrinsic
foundation and substance, a simple unity, a soul, a--in one word, a
monad."

"A--a what?" asked the Chamberlain's lady, fixing her eyes upon him.

"A monad, or a simple unity," continued he. "The monads have a common
resemblance in substance one with another; but in respect of qualities,
of power, and size, they are substantially unlike. There are the monads
of people; there are human monads, animal monads, vegetable monads; in
short, the world is full of monads--they compose the world----"

"Heart's dearest!" interrupted the old lady, in a tone of displeasure,
"I don't understand one word of all this! What stuff it is! What are
monads?--fill the world, do they?--I see no monads!"

"But you see me, dear lady," said Jacobi, "and yourself. You are
yourself a monad."