of excitement mingled with fear. It was
a tender and respectful declaration of affection, copied word for word
from a German novel. Of this fact, Lisa was, of course, ignorant.

The young girl was much impressed by the missive, but she felt that
the writer must not be encouraged. She therefore wrote a few lines of
explanation and, at the first opportunity, dropped it, with the letter,
out of the window. The officer hastily crossed the street, picked up the
papers and entered a shop to read them.

In no wise daunted by this rebuff, he found the opportunity to send
her another note in a few days. He received no reply, but, evidently
understanding the female heart, he presevered, begging for an interview.
He was rewarded at last by the following:

"To-night we go to the ambassador's ball. We shall remain until two
o'clock. I can arrange for a meeting in this way. After our departure,
the servants will probably all go out, or go to sleep. At half-past
eleven enter the vestibule boldly, and if you see any one, inquire for
the Countess; if not, ascend the stairs, turn to the left and go on
until you come to a door, which opens into her bedchamber. Enter
this room and behind a screen you will find another door leading to a
corridor; from this a spiral staircase leads to my sitting-room. I shall
expect to find you there on my return."

Herman trembled like a leaf as the appointed hour drew near. He obeyed
instructions fully, and, as he met no one, he reached the old lady's
bedchamber without difficulty. Instead of going out of the small door
behind the screen, however, he concealed himself in a closet to await
the return of the old Countess.

The hours dragged slowly by; at last he heard the sound of wheels.
Immediately lamps were lighted and servants began moving about. Finally
the old woman tottered into the room, completely exhausted. Her women
removed her wraps and proceeded to get her in readiness for the night.
Herman watched the proceedings with a curiosity not unmingled with
superstitious fear. When at last she was attired in cap and gown, the
old woman looked less uncanny than when she wore her ball-dress of blue
brocade.

She sat down in an easy chair beside a table, as she was in the habit
of doing before retiring, and her women withdrew. As the old lady sat
swaying to and fro, seemingly oblivious to her surroundings, Herman
crept out of his hiding-place.

At the slight noise the old woman opened her eyes, an