rough the green foliage. You now caught
sight of a high tower with a spire; and soon the whole of the old
mansion presented itself to view. The water was conveyed away from the
broad moats, where the weeping willows with bowed heads and uncovered
roots stood in the warm sunshine. A number of work-people were busily
employed in clearing the moats of mud, which was wheeled in barrows on
both sides.

They soon reached the principal court-yard. The barns and the
out-buildings lay on the opposite side. A crowd of dogs rushed forth
barking toward the carriage--all possible races, from the large Danish
hound, which is known to the Parisian, down to the steward's little
pug-dog, which had mixed with this company. Here stood the greyhound,
with his long legs, beside the turnspit. You saw all varieties, and each
had its peculiar and melodious bark. A couple of peacocks, with bright
outspread tails, raised at the same time a cry, which must have made an
impression. The whole court-yard had a striking air of cleanliness. The
grass was weeded from between the stones; all was swept and arranged
in its appointed order. Before the principal flight of steps grew four
large lime-trees; their tops, from youth bent together and then clipped
short, formed in spring and summer two large green triumphal arches. On
the right stood upon an upright beam, which was carved and formed into
a pillar, a prettily painted dove-cot; and its gay inhabitants fluttered
and cooed around. The peacock-pigeon emulated the peacock in spreading
its tail; and the cropper-pigeon elevated itself upon its long legs, and
drew itself up, as though it would welcome the strangers with the air of
a grand gentleman. The reddish-brown tiles and the bright window-panes
were the only things which had a modern air. The building itself, from
the stone window-seats to the old-fashioned tower through which you
entered, proclaimed its antiquity. In the vaulted entrance-hall stood
two immense presses: the quantity of wood which formed them, and the
artistical carving, testified to their great age. Above the door were
fastened a couple of antlers.

The Kammerjunker's sister, Miss Jakoba, a young lady of about thirty,
neither stout nor thin, but with a strange mixture of joviality and
indolence, approached them. She appeared to rejoice very much in the
visit.

"Well, you are come over, then!" said she to Wilhelm. "I thought you had
enough to do with your examination."

Wilhelm