m walked several times past Petrovitsch's table with
the evident desire of stopping at it. Four eyes looked at him
wonderingly. Bubby, sitting in his master's lap, stared and growled as
if he scented a beggar, while Petrovitsch's occasional glance up from
his paper said plainly: What is he after? He has not a forest to sell
too,--has he? None, certainly, but the one on his head, if he does not
owe for that.

Pilgrim frequently passed his hand through his long lank hair, but
found thereby no approach to Petrovitsch, who, so far from encouraging
him, got up now, paid his score, and departed. Pilgrim hurried after
him. "A couple of words with you, if you please, Mr. Lenz," he said,
when he overtook him in the street.

"Good day; that is just a couple of words."

"I want nothing for myself, Mr. Lenz; but I consider it my duty--"

"Your duties are nothing to me."

"Imagine that some one else is speaking my words. So that you hear
them, the rest is nothing."

"I am not curious."

"It concerns your nephew Lenz."

"I knew that."

"Yet more; you may make his happiness for life."

"Every man must make that for himself."

"It would only cost you a walk to the doctor's."

"Is Lenz ill?"

"No. The state of the case is this: he ought to marry and wants to
marry. Now the best wife for him is the doctor's daughter Amanda, as I
am convinced, after thinking the matter over on all sides. But he lacks
the necessary courage. He thinks, too,-he has not told me so, but I am
sure of it,--that he is not rich enough. Now, if the uncle makes the
proposal, and thereby promises--"

"So? I knew it would come to that. If my brother's son wants a wife,
let him get her himself. I am an old bachelor, and don't understand
such things."

"If his friends do not exert themselves, Amanda will marry some one
else. I know that an apothecary is paying his addresses to her."

"Good! she would be just the wife for him. I am not the disposer of the
world."

"But if your nephew should foolishly get into trouble in some other
quarter?"

"He must get out the best way he can."

"Mr. Lenz, you are not as hard-hearted as you set up for being."

"I am not setting at all, I am going. Good day, Mr. Pilgrim." And go he
did. Pilgrim drew his breath hard as he looked after him, but presently
turned homeward. In this gloomy weather, with no ray of sunshine, he
could at least be grinding his colors for brighter days.