t runs down.

She simply left unanswered the questions her lover interposed now and
then; and when he interrupted her to say that Count Colloredo had been
in the Palatine hussars, and not in the Thurn and Taxis dragoons, she
said crossly that he had better pay more attention the next time she
told him anything. Heppner, on the contrary, who appeared to listen
with interest, rose in her favour, and in answer to his questions she
launched still further into detail.

And now she looked at him more closely, and took his measure with those
bright eyes of hers. But having brought her story up to the present
date, she turned once more to Heimert, regarded him tenderly, and said,
"Shall I not be happy with him, after having had such hard times in the
past?"

A few newly-arrived guests now called her to her duties at the bar, and
the two non-commissioned officers remained behind alone at the table.
Heimert felt the sergeant-major looking at him, as he thought, with a
sneering, incredulous sort of expression. He was embarrassed, and began
describing figures on the table with a little beer that had been spilt.

"Well, well," he began at last, "women are always like that. She draws
the long bow, of course--as to her origin and so forth."

"Yes," answered Heppner; "girls love doing that."

"But," Heimert continued, "there is some truth in it. Her father is a
shoemaker--was, at least, for he is dead now--even if he wasn't a Court
shoemaker. And he must have been wealthy. He only left her what he was
obliged to, and yet she receives fifty crowns interest monthly. I know
that for certain."

"By Jove! that is over forty marks. You certainly are a lucky dog! Why,
she's almost rich."

"Well, not quite that. But it is very pleasant, naturally. However, I
didn't choose her for that reason. I first heard of it quite
indirectly, long after I had proposed."

Heppner was almost overcome with envy as he saw sitting opposite
to him this picture of hideousness, this perfect monster, who had
succeeded--how, Heaven alone knew!--in winning a beautiful and also a
rich woman. For he was obliged to believe that about her income. It was
plain that Heimert was not lying.

As a matter of fact the barmaid did receive fifty crowns every month.
The money, however, did not come as interest on capital inherited from
her father, but was an annuity which a former lover had settled on her:
a good-natured, fat tallow-chandler, who had been with great re