f a glass of
wine. Frank saw how he endeavored not to exhibit his anger.

"Has Herr von Hamm departed?" asked Richard.

"Yes, he is off again," said the proprietor. "Angela, your mother has
something to say to you."

"Now guess what the assessor wanted?" said Siegwart, after his daughter
had left the arbor.

"Perhaps he wanted the Peter-pence collection," said Frank, smiling.

"No. Herr von Hamm wanted nothing more or less than to marry my
daughter!"

Frank was astonished. Although he long since saw through Hamm's
designs, he did not expect so sudden and hasty a step.

"And in what manner did he demand her?"

"It is revolting," said the proprietor, much offended. "Herr von Hamm
graciously condescends to us peasants. He showed that it would be a
great good fortune for us to give our daughter to the noble, the
official with brilliant prospects."

"Herr von Hamm does not think little of himself," said Richard drily.

"How did the man ever come to ask my daughter? He and Angela! What
opposites!"

"Which, of course, you made clear to him."

"I reminded the gentleman that identity of moral and religious
principles alone could render matrimonial happiness possible. I
reminded him that Angela was an ultramontane, whose opinions would
daily annoy him, while his modern opinions must deeply offend Angela.
This I set before him briefly. Then I told him frankly and freely that
I did not wish to make either him or Angela unhappy, and at this he
went away angrily."

"You have done your duty," said Frank. "I am also of opinion that
similar convictions in the great principles of life alone insure the
happiness of married life."

When Richard came home, he wrote in his diary:

"June 4.--Unconditional surrender. What I supposed only to exist in the
ideal world is realized in the daughter of an ultramontane. Angela,
compared to our crinolines, our flirts, our insipid coquettes--how
brilliant the light, how deep the shadow!

"My visits to that family have no longer a purpose. I feel they must be
discontinued for the sake of my peace. I dare not dream of a happiness
of which I am unworthy. But my future life will feel painfully the want
of a happiness the possibility of which I did not dream. This is a
punishment for presuming to penetrate the pure, glorious character of
the Angel of Salingen."

He buried his face in his hands, and leaned on the table. He remained
thus a long time; when he raised his head, his face