usual circumstance with him. He
was easy-going by nature, and never troubled himself beforehand about
vexations that might come to him. He was not in the habit of brooding
over his worries, but on the contrary always tried to forget them. He
was tall and strongly made, and his mischievous brown eyes had sometimes
a look of imperious audacity which was in perfect keeping with the scar
on his sunburnt cheek that bore witness that he had not devoted his
whole time and energy to the study of dogmatic theology. "Yes," he said
to himself as he sat there waiting for his cousin, "I must get myself
out of this difficulty! I could bear it as long as it was far off, for
there was always plenty of time to come to a decision, but two things
must be settled today beyond recall. My father is coming this afternoon.
I only hope that my mother won't take it into her head to come too, or I
should never have courage to do it. I'm as well suited to be a clergyman
as a donkey is to play the guitar, or as Godfrey is to be colonel of a
cavalry regiment. If Braesig were only here, he'd stand by me I know. And
then Mina--I wish it were all settled with her." At this moment Mina
appeared carrying a plate of bread and butter--Rudolph sprang up,
exclaiming: "What a dear good little girl you are, Mina!" and he threw
his arm round her waist as he spoke. Mina freed herself from him,
saying: "Don't do that. Ah, how could you have been so wicked? My mother
is very angry with you." "You mean about the sermon," he answered;
"well, yes, it was a stupid trick." "No," said Mina quickly, "it was a
wicked trick. You made game of holy things." "Not a bit of it," he
replied. "These trial sermons are not holy things, even when they are
preached by our pious cousin Godfrey." "But, Rudolph, it was in
_church!_" "Ah, Mina, I confess that it was a silly joke. I didn't think
sufficiently of what I was doing. I only thought of the sheepish look of
amazement Godfrey's face would wear, and that tickled me so much that I
was mad enough to play the trick. Now don't let us talk any more about
it, Mina," he said coaxingly, as he slipped his arm round her waist
again. "No, I won't allow that," said Mina. "And," she went on, "the
parson said that if he were to make the story known, you'd never get a
living all your life." "Then I hope that he'll tell every one what I did
and it'll end all the bother." "What do you mean?" asked Mina, pushing
him from her and staring at him in per