study.

The old man, who sat near the window in this study, was busily engaged
in reading, and paid him no attention; although Gellert coughed several
times, he did not appear to remark his presence, and continued to read.

"Conrad," said Gellert, at length, in a friendly, pleading tone.

"Professor," answered the old man, as he looked up unwillingly from his
book.

"Conrad, it seems to me that you might stand up when I enter; not,
perhaps, so much out of respect for your master, as because he is
delicate and weak, and needs your assistance."

"Professor," said the old man, with composure, "I only intended
finishing the chapter which I have just commenced, and then I should
have risen. You came a little too soon. It was your own fault if I was
compelled to read after you came."

Gellert smiled. "What book were you reading so earnestly, my old
friend?"

"The 'Swedish Countess,' professor. You know it is my favorite book. I
am reading it now for the twelfth time, and I still think it the most
beautiful and touching, as well as the most sensible book I ever read.
It is entirely beyond my comprehension, professor, how you made it, and
how you could have recollected all these charming histories. Who related
all that to you?"

"No one related it to me, it came from my own head and heart," said
Gellert, pleasantly. "But no, that is a very presumptuous thought; it
did not come from myself, but from the great spirit, who occasionally
sends a ray of his Godlike genius to quicken the hearts and imaginations
of poets."

"I do not understand you, professor," said Conrad, impatiently. "Why do
you not talk like the book--I understand all that the 'Swedish Countess'
says, for she speaks like other people. She is an altogether sensible
and lovely woman, and I have thought sometimes, professor--"

Old Conrad hesitated and looked embarrassed.

"Well, Conrad, what have you thought?"

"I have thought sometimes, sir, perhaps it would be best for you to
marry the 'Swedish Countess'."

Gellert started slightly, and a light flush mounted to his brow.

"I marry!" he exclaimed; "Heaven protect me from fastening such a yoke
upon myself, or putting my happiness in the power of any creature so
fickle, vain, capricious, haughty, obstinate, and heartless as a woman.
Conrad, where did you get this wild idea? you know that I hate women;
no, not hate, but fear them, as the lamb fears the wolf."

"Oh, sir," cried Conrad, angrily, "was