ed the threshold with a pure heart and a
pure eye. Yet he could not suppress all anxiety in regard to his first
meeting with Bella. She came with the Aunt, as far as the wood, to meet
them.

Bella embraced the Mother, and again thanked her for having subjected
herself to the self-denial of letting Aunt Claudine remain with her.
Extending her hand to Eric, she said, with a sort of chilled look:--

"You were his first thought to-day, my young friend."

She said nothing further, and did not mention her husband's name.

Rain began to fall before they reached Wolfsgarten, and it did not
cease during the whole day, so that they were confined in doors.

Clodwig was remarkably cheerful and happy, and the day passed off with
a joyousness that is possible only to persons in entire leisure, and
perhaps only on the banks of the Rhine.

Roland was the happiest of all; he seemed to be the life and connecting
link of the company, looking up at every one, as if he would ask:--

"Why are you not as glad as I am?"

He went from the Mother to the Aunt, from her to Bella and to Clodwig,
to and fro, as if he must let every one know how pleasant and home-like
a circle he had found. He was in such very good spirits, that at last
he said:--

"Ah! when sister Manna comes home, she will see at once that uncle,
aunt, grandfather and all are here, just as if they had grown upon
trees."

The inquiry was made where Pranken was.

They said he had gone to stay with an agriculturist devoted to the
church, the convent-farmer, as he was called; for there was nothing, at
the present day, to which an ecclesiastical coloring and characteristic
was not given. Pranken had the good fortune, by this means, to be near
the convent, whose lands were farmed by the agriculturist.

They assembled in the grand saloon, from which three doors opened upon
the covered piazza adorned with flowers and hanging-plants, and
furnished with comfortable seats.

As they were quietly sitting and chatting together, Clodwig suddenly
raised his hand as a signal for them to be silent; they understood his
meaning and ceased talking. He had taken out his watch, and now said:--

"This is the very moment Goethe was born. I beg," he added with a
kindly glance, "I, beg Bella and Fraeulein Dournay----"

The ladies understood what he meant, and seating themselves at the
piano, played Beethoven's Overture to Egmont, arranged as a duet.

Clodwig, leaning back in his chair, lis