enkamp was yet more and more delighted; and when Eric inquired,
"Which one of your family is musical?" he answered,--

"This saloon is intended for my daughter."

"Wonderful," said Eric; "yonder in the garden the upturned seat, and
here the music-saloon, is expecting her."

Sonnenkamp, as he often did, took his under-lip between his fore-finger
and thumb; he appeared to be either intending to say something, or
wishing to keep something back.

"As we are talking about my daughter, I will just show you her room,"
he said suddenly, opening a side-door.

They entered a little apartment, in which the Venetian blinds were
down. Sonnenkamp at once drew them entirely up. The prospect extended
over the long vine-arbor and beyond the Rhine. The room was plain, but
all was extremely pretty. A number of photographs, wreathed with blue
ribbon into a circle, in the centre of which was a large picture of the
pope, hung upon the wall. The white curtains of the white bed, now
drawn back, allowed a beautifully carved ivory crucifix on the wall to
be seen, while below it hung a neatly framed colored engraving, a sort
of diploma, admitting Hermanna, styled Manna Sonnenkamp, into the band
of good children.

A writing-table, a small book-shelf, tasteful chairs, everything showed
that here was the abode of a maiden who quietly lived within herself,
occupied chiefly with religious meditations. In the chamber itself
there seemed to be the hovering spirit of prayer, and one involuntarily
looked round to see the maiden herself come in, with those large
childlike eyes immediately cast down at beholding her sanctuary
intruded upon.

Eric's glance became fixed upon a handsome chimney-piece of green
marble, whose semi-circular edge was bordered with living ivy, while
the entire chimney-place was filled with flowers and growing plants. No
flower-pots were to be seen, for they were skilfully concealed; it was
all a mysterious growth of leaves and flowers.

"Does that please you?" Sonnenkamp asked. "Yes, my daughter always has
the chimney-place filled with flowers in summer, and I think that
Fraeulein Perini has continued the practice in memory of her."

Eric continued to stare at the plants; and he fancied that he could
read something of the character of the maiden who in summer kept the
fire-place covered with flowers. Here Sonnenkamp laid a heavy hand on
his shoulder, and said:--

"Are you entirely honest? You have not come here on my son