freely.

Clodwig went into the cabinet, where he kept the collection of objects
that had been excavated from the ground; but all here seemed changed.
The urns, the vases, the lachrymatories, swords, necklaces, and many
figures in relievo looked so very desolate, and a warrior, only half of
whose face in burnt clay could be dug out, wore to-day such a hideous
visage.

All looked so forlorn, as if these thousand things, brought out of the
darkness under ground into the light, were making their moan to
Clodwig: What then are we here for? There is something wanting to
us,--a piece to each. And if Clodwig had been able to exhibit his soul
with all its emotions, he, the well-regulated, would have had nothing
but potsherds to show. Something was wanting to him since Eric rode
off.

With closed lips, and restless eyes that seemed to be in search of
something, he went all day long through house and park. Bella succeeded
at last, in bringing him to say that the ideal of his whole life might
have been realized, but that he had strangely wanted the requisite
energy. He complained, for the first time, of feeling the hesitancy and
timidity of age. He made a pause, hoping that Bella would complete the
suggestion, but she kept silence; and in a very roundabout way, he
explained that people indulged in many luxuries, and yet not the right
ones. Finally he came directly to the point, that he considered it
wrong to have permitted Eric to depart, he had long wished for such a
man, and he might venture perhaps to say, that he would also contribute
to the advancement of the young scholar with the Apollo-form.

The upper lip of Bella quivered, and she said,--

"The captain"--she was going to say, the captain in Goethe's "Elective
Affinities," and stumbling over this thought, she continued:--"The
captain,--I mean, the doctor,--would certainly consider himself very
fortunate. But--we ought surely to speak openly. I have the happiness
of a firmly established good name, and we do not ask what people say--"

"Speak out direct," Clodwig said encouragingly, and Bella continued
after she had passed a fine pocket-handkerchief over her face:--

"Do you not think that this young man--would often--how shall I express
it?"

"Put us into an awkward position?" suggested Clodwig. Bella nodded, but
Clodwig had already thought that matter over, and he combated the
notion, dwelling upon the consideration of how great an enslavement it
would be of the