s anxiety was
groundless.

It had come to that--the thought of her did not awaken any of the old
hopes. When he looked down from the height he asked himself: "Shall I
succeed in becoming a brother to her who is now my sister?"

He has arrived at the door of the paternal home. In vain he has
scanned the windows, seeking for some familiar face. Now a thickset
man in a black coat comes rushing out. He dashes out so hastily,
embraces him so wildly, presses him so close to his white waistcoat,
lays his cheek so near his cheek and keeps it there so long that one
must choose to believe either that he loves his brother to the utmost
or--that he does not want him to look into his eyes. But at last he
has to let go of him; he takes him by the right arm and draws him into
the door.

"It's fine that you've come! It's grand that you've come! It really
wasn't necessary--simply an idea of the old man's, and he has nothing
more to say about the business. But it really is splendid of you; I'm
only sorry that you're making your betrothed's eyes red for nothing."
He said the words "your betrothed" so distinctly and in such a loud
tone that they could be heard and understood in the living room.
Apollonius searched his brother's face with moist eyes, as if to check
off, point by point, whether everything was still there that had been
so dear to him. His brother did nothing to help him; he looked only at
what lay between Apollonius' chin and toes.

"Father wanted it," said Apollonius easily; "and what you say of a
betrothed--"

His brother interrupted him; he laughed loudly in his old manner, so
that even if Apollonius had gone on speaking he could not have been
understood. "That's all right! That's all right! And once more, it's
splendid that you've come to visit us, and we won't let you go for a
fortnight at least, whether you want to or not. Don't mind her," he
added softly, pointing through the doorway with his right hand while
he opened the door with his left.

The young wife was standing at a cupboard with the contents of which
she was busy, her back toward the door. She turned, in an embarrassed
and not quite friendly manner, and only toward her husband. Her
brother-in-law could still see nothing but a part of her right cheek,
with a burning blush upon it. Whatever other criticism might be made
of her behavior, an unmistakable honesty showed itself in it, an
incapability of pretending to be otherwise than she was. She stood
t