e pure soul
of my darling with such a confidence; and so I remained unshaken,
though I knew her too well not to know how much was at stake.

"On the next morning I received her parting letter--a letter that for
the first time showed me all that I was losing.

"But I had gone too far to turn back. I answered that I would wait
until she changed her opinions; that in the mean time I should look
upon myself as bound to her; but she was, of course, entirely free.

"That was a week ago. I reflected that of course it would be necessary
to leave at once those places where she might meet me. In putting my
house in order for an indefinite absence, I came upon a package of
visiting-cards in one of my mother's cupboards that had on them the
name of her brother, my godfather, Felix von Weiblingen. It occurred to
me as a good idea that, under this name, I might for a while
(_incognito_) breathe the same air with my oldest friend, and at the
same time attain the goal of my dearest wishes--to begin a new life.
There is nothing in me of the ordinary numbered and classified type of
'man with a calling,' and, even with the best wife in the world, I
never should have been able to busy myself quietly on my estate with
bringing up children, making brandy, and fox-hunting. It is better,
then, that I should use this involuntary opportunity to dispose of
myself as I choose, in trying whether I can't really make a life of my
own. If in time she should bring herself to my way of thinking, she
would then find a _fait accompli_ that she would have to accept.

"It will be no shame to me in your eyes if I don't at once find my
spirits so entirely in order that I can go rushing into a mastery of
the fine arts by lightning express. I have reached the door of your
studio but slowly, and by very short stages--but this very slowness has
done me good. You see before you a thoroughly sensible man, who is
determined to submit to fate without a grumble. If you will only take
me into _die Mache_, it will not be long before the wings of your
faithful Icarus will grow again, to lift him above all this wretched
world of Philistinism and its foolish love-affairs."

CHAPTER III.

The sculptor had listened to this long confession in silence. And even
now, when Felix ended, and began to pull to pieces a sprig of
mignonette as carefully as though he were trying to count the stamens
in the little blossoms, he betrayed neither