dows does the game of life project, even unto us up
here!

*

This visit has satisfied me that there is a large share of vanity still
remaining in Walpurga. She could not help gradually directing the
conversation to the subject, and, at last, told the stranger that she
had been the crown prince's nurse, and had lived at the palace nearly a
year. There is something in her that reminds me of the man who has many
orders of merit, and who, like a general in citizen's dress, goes about
without his medals and decorations. He modestly deprecates being
addressed as "your excellency," but nevertheless enjoys it. The one
year spent in the atmosphere of the court, has not been without its
effect upon Walpurga.

Hansei, who felt kindly toward the stranger, and evinced great pity for
him, was evidently annoyed by his wife's ostentation; but, with his
usual great self-command, refrained from expressing his annoyance. But
to-day, when they were going to church, Hansei asked:

"Wouldn't you like to have a ribbon around your neck and wear a picture
of yourself and the crown prince, so that no one may ever forget what
you once were?"

I do not think that Walpurga will ever again allude to her brilliant
past.

*

The grandmother's death and funeral afforded me an opportunity to
become better acquainted with the village schoolmaster. He has a
tolerably fair education, but delights in making a display of it, and
is fond of using big words, in order to impress the listener and to
imply: "You don't quite understand me, after all." But the hearty
feeling with which he entered into our grief, has raised him in my
esteem, and I have frankly let him know as much. And so one day he said
to me: "Your skill in wood carving is as good as a marriage portion.
You can earn much money by it." I had no idea what he meant by the
remark.

Last Sunday, however, I was enlightened.

He came here, dressed in a black coat and white cotton gloves, and made
me a formal offer of marriage.

He could not be induced to believe that I would never marry, and he
urgently repeated his offer, saying that he would only desist if I
really loved another.

Walpurga fortunately came to the rescue. The good man seemed as if
utterly crushed by his rejection, and went away. Why must I fill yet
another heart with pain? Of my own, I do not care to speak.

*

I