distance whilst we approached nearer to at least admire the
grand old mansion, even if it were closed against us as a residence. The
village was full of marvelous old houses rich in frescoes, oriel
windows, gables and turrets, but this dwelling, standing in a dignified
situation on an eminence, was a prince amongst its compeers. The
architecture, which was Renaissance, might belong to a bad style, but
the long slopes of roof, the jutting balconies, the rich iron-work on
the oblong facade, the painted sun-dial and the coats-of-arms now fading
away into oblivion, the grotesque gargoyle which in the form of a
dragon's head frowned upon the world,--each detail, that had once been
carefully studied, helped to form a complete whole which it was a
pleasure to look upon. The grand entrance, no longer used, was guarded
by a group of magnificent trees, the kings of the region. Traces of an
old pleasure-garden and the dried-up basin of a fountain were visible
within.

At this point in the narrative Margaret exclaimed, "None other than my
would-be _pension_! I have known it from the first, so pray do not keep
me on tenterhooks. Were you or were you not successful? Yet all hope has
died within me already, for such a treasure-trove we never could get."

"Well, listen," said the mother. "As we were admiring the house, a
handsome, fair-haired young man, one's perfect ideal of a peasant, came
along the road, bowed to us, and when we expressed our interest in the
mansion said that he was the son of the house, and that we might see the
rooms if we liked. Grand old rooms they are, with a great lack of
furniture, but nevertheless perfectly charming. The young man, who is
named Anton, thought his father would probably have no objection to let
us rooms. At all events, we could all go over and see the Hofbauer at
ten o'clock to-morrow morning, when he would be in: he was in his fields
this afternoon. The whole, in fact, was a pastoral poem."

The next day we were as punctual as clock-work. A pleasant, comely young
peasant woman, who looked as if she had lived on fresh air all her life,
met us in the great stone entrance-hall. She told us that her father
would soon be at liberty, and that, with our permission, she would again
show us the rooms if we wished to see them. This promised well. Fetching
a huge bunch of handsome iron-wrought keys, she conducted us into the
great hall of the first floor, hung with large unframed pictures of the
Holy